Lured of the Ring

The Tale of Tragic Beginnings

Jason J. Patteron THE PLAYERS _____________________________ Johann the Massive, Initiate, Halfling, played by Jason Patterson Lin-Arr the Power-Hungry, Ranger, Elf, played by James Jacob Konan/Vaaga the Granite-Headed, Squire, Human, played by Aaron Brown Darknor the Slaver, er, Trader, Human, played by Donald Brown II Edri-Mor, Priest of Ulric, Elf, played by James Armstrong Leif Briarwood, Baroness, Human, played by Angela Brown Gibriol the Pious, Monk, Human, played by Jason Patterson Wagahaba the Dwarf - *CODY* Gunny, Engineer, Dwarf, played by Wesley Armstrong

Darknor's Account As I was driving my cart on the trail, I heard sounds of fighting nearby. I turned to look, and saw a man fighting some goblins. Lying behind the goblins was a man whom they had already killed. I turned my cart a drove it toward the battle. when I got close enough, I got off and checked the body while the squire was distracted by the goblins. Then when a goblin noticed me and started toward me, I got my lasso ready and backed away from him. He advanced and clumsily swung his hand axe at me. I didn't even need to dodge as his axe cut the air far to my left. I then lassoed him with my rope and manacled him as an elf appeared in his small reed boat in the river and shot the other goblin while it was retreating. As I checked on the strangers, I noticed the more solidly built human (whom I later learned was a squire) secreting something away in his pack - apparently booty from the slain creatures or perhaps the unfortunate corpse. I talked to the squire and the elf learning their names, after I made sure my goblin prisoner was secure, Lin-Arr the Elf, and Konan the Squire were my companions. We both happened to be traveling to Middenheim, so I offered them a ride. After about a day we made it to the main road. Later that day we stumbled upon a pit trap in the middle of the road, fortunately we were all in the cart. Unfortunately the cart broke an axle. I started to jump down to examine the damage when we all noticed a beastman in the woods to the side of the road. I continued to dismount and check the axle, while for some reason the elf immediately readied his bow. The squire jumped down with me just as another beastman appeared on the other side of the road. By now the elf had his bow ready and he chose to fire on the first beastman, he missed. The beastman didn't even acknowledge the arrow flying past him and thudding into a tree. After I found that the axle was unable to be repaired I unhitched the draft horse from the cart, and led my riding horse to the front of the cart with me. The second beastman then blew a horn he had pulled out of his pouch, just then Lin-Arr shot at him and grazed his side. I mounted my riding horse as another beastman appeared with the first. And yet another beastman appeared (he seemed to be the leader of the group) and motioned the other beastmen forward.I grabbed the goblin I had taken prisoner and knocked him out and draped him across my horse. I then pulled Konan up on the horse behind me and Lin-Arr fired a shot at the leader, missed, then jumped on the draft horse. We started to ride away from the cart (and the beastmen) when the horse Lin-Arr was riding threw him and bolted. By then we were about 5 yards away. The beastmen started looting the cart as Lin-Arr picked himself up off the ground. I caught up with the other horse and calmed him down while Konan dismounted. Lin_Arr fired a shot at the beastmen then started running toward me and Konan. He stopped again, fired another shot (which appeared to hit the leader, to not much effect) then Lin-Arr caught up to us on foot, and we travelled on until happening upon a caravan heading the desired direction. After a few moments of conversation, the caravan, under the direction of the presiding noble, due to an agreement to take us on as extra guards, continued its trek to Middenheim, stopping only for supplies in Bergsburg - at least, that's how our next day began...

"I need to get this appraised", grumbled Konan as he sat in the wagon, admiring an intricately crafted signet ring as the wagon shook and rumbled along the road, occasionally unseating one of the caravan's passengers, which, after little parlaying, most of which were revealed to be Snotball Players on their way to the Emperor's Cup Snotball Tournament - THE most prestigious sport in the Kingdom. The Elf was leafing through some sort of arcane manuscript which I was unable to make out - quite intrigued apparently, though the loud, lavish colors on the binding set my mind spinning. Later that day, after we had chosen a spot for camp, I was talking to some of the guards on watch when we saw a short overweight halfling in the robes of a priest of Esmerelda making his way toward the caravan. After some talking and waving around an iron ladle he was accepted into the caravan as a cook. The snotball team's doctor who is a priest of _____ was watching the whole thing. Lin-Arr then got up and walked over to the team doctor and asked him a some kind of question which made him look questioningly at the elf and walk off grumbling under his breath. The elf, clueless as ever shook his head, smiled serenely and went somewhere else in the caravan. I went to the newcomer and introduced myself, identifying myself as Darknor the Trader and he replied saying he was Johann the Massive, Priest of Esmerelda and Chef Extraordinaire; he then offered everyone a tasty sandwich. As a side note, he kept doing this for days on end, never seeming to run out of food. Apparently, Esmerelda provides in spades. * * * * * * * *

Johann's Observations As I took in my would-be companions, I tried to make at least crude assessments of each, practicing my discernment, as an initiate of Esmerelda is supposed to do. The "trader" seemed standoffish but a fairly reliable sort, belying the air of... unsavoriness he carried with him. The Elf seemed to be deep in study, so I thought it best not to disturb him, though truth be known, even knowing he was of a good and beneficent lineage, I was not altogether comfortable with his prescence, for I could almost swear I recognized the symbol emblazoned upon the book he poured over with such fervor. The regally attired squire continued to be entranced by what was clearly a nobleman's ring "no good can come of this", I thought to myself. Finally the caravan arrived at Bergsburg proper. What I presumed to be a routine equipment stop turned out to be nothing of the sort, and in fact, far from it. But read on, and I shall relate the tale of the Two Follies... "I gotta get this checked OUT!" bellows the sturdy squire as he leaps from the caravan before it even comes to a complete stop. Looking one way and then the other, the Elf next bounds gracefully from the wagon and heads off toward an herbalist's shoppe as the Snotball team gets out to stretch its legs. I next disembark after gathering a goodly amount of culinary items and securing the rest. The noble and his retinue nod to myself and Darknor, then make their way to the city hall.

Darknor, who I now know is a slaver, drags his goblin hostage from the wagon by his manacles and disappears directly into the hear of the seamier part of town. I stride off to find the markets, making certain I am up to date on all the new recipes and cooking implements. None of us realize how this day will end. After a disappointing round of questions, the Elf finds that no one in the herbalist's shoppe has "magick" that he can gain outright - no arcane items, no big spellbooks - nothing. The store owner and a patron attempt to indicate to him that he is welcome as a customer, but they politlely but firmly make it known that they are in no means interested in being his friend. "This is a store" explains the shopkeep as he sweeps off his walkway. "You are more than welcome to look around and I'll be happy to sell you something, but to be blunt, I've got all the friends I need". The Elf eventually gets the hint, or at least seems to, and exits the store dejectedly and returns to the caravan. "Guard!" shrieks the foppish jeweller as Konan enters the jewelery store, so loaded with weapons and armor he looks like a caricature of an overly-muscular porcupine. "Whoah, whoa!", cautions the squire as he rearranges his equipment and props his spear in the corner. "I mean to cause you no alarm, good sir. I was simply hoping you could examine this curious ring for me". Still slightly intimidated but relieved, the jeweller nods and approaches the display case where Konan has placed the gem-encrusted ring. "Well," says the merchant, admiring the adornment with a critical eye and a magnifying eyeglass. "This is quite obviously a signet ring of a powerful noble family - you can see right here, the identifying crest -". Konan brusquely interrupts, nodding exaggeratedly. "Yes, yes, I know all that. I *DO* know a LITTLE something about heraldry after all - I *AM* a squire! How much is it worth? That's all I want to know." Casting a disdainful eye at someone so crude as to simply *sell* a noble's possession, the jeweller nonetheless wants to make his cutomers happy. Seeing the guard still nearby, eyeing Konan warily, the jeweller leans over, giving him the all-clear and sends him back to the back room. Seeing this and apparently seriously misinterpreting the meaning of this action, Konan, without warning, reaches over the counter, grabs the jeweller's fine silken shirt and lifts him onto his tiptoes, saying in a dangerous voice, "If you told him anything about this or sent him to tell anybody, I'll kill you". The store-owner, after being released, again shrieks and bolts to the back room and locks it from the inside, leaving the squire blinking in surprise. The squire examines the valuable contents of the display case, toying with the idea of simply sweeping the entirety into his rucksack and continuing on his way, but sudden footsteps outside the shoppe cause him to leave that for later. Perhaps just my natural Halfling intuition, perhaps a blessing from Esmerelda herself, I am overcome with a feeling of dread connected with the squire whom I had recently met. Hastily ending my dealings with the fine folk in the market, I hurried back to the main square and the jewelery shop, my trepidation growing with each step; finally I see that I am unfortunately justified as a handful of the city watch are advancing toward the jewelery shoppe. Not knowing what the situation is, I do the first thing that comes to mind, calling for "Vaaga". "Vaaga!" I yell as though searching for my long lost friend in a crowded street, capturing the attention of the guard as I had hoped. I draw as

close as I can to the shoppe before two guard intercept me, telling me there is a maniac inside. "Oh no sir!" I counter. "It is probably my friend Vaaga, a large-ish fellow, spear and armor and all that. He was a squire of some reknown - he was badly injured in the last battle he was in..." I grimace and point to my own quaff of hair. "Whacked in the skull you know. He has been... unpredictable...since. I must get through here to see if this is Vaga. I met him only a few days ago but could tell immediately he would need someone to help look after him". One guard furrowed his brow, pondering, then stepped aside and I rushed to the doorway. "He's really not dangerous but can have very ugly seizures when he gets like this!" I caution and thankfully Konan takes the hint and falls to the floor, but plays it a bit TOO WELL and flops violently, moaning and thrashing about like a trout out of water, alarming the guards. "You have til the count of three to come out!" yells the patrol captain and thankfully "Vaga" manages to throw his dagger and spear out the door, effectively indicating he has disarmed himself, though appearing to do it by accident. I run past the guards and place my cloak over Konan's head, pretending to calm him. By Esmerelda's grace, the noble in charge of the caravan shows up and speaks to the guards, motioning for us to hand to cough up some gold crowns. I place my last nine in his hand, and the elf chips in three. These make their way from the noble's hand to the guards' in short order; this, with a little more explanation and free sandwiches, apparently satisfy the guards to an extent. "Keep him IN LINE or next time..." they trail off and I have no doubt I don't WANT to hear how it could turn out. I help him back to the caravan. The noble shakes his head and walks off. "I have to get my ring back!" barks Konan before we even make it all the way back. I roll my eyes, realizing the jeweller must have kept the ring in his flight from immediate danger. "Drop it!" I order, not wanting to risk another run-in but judging from the look in Konan's eyes, I know my pleas fell on deaf ears. I try to talk to Konan and explain the gravity of the situation but he is hearing none of it, instead vowing revenge on the "thieves" who stole "his" ring, missing the point that it is a noble's ring and it should be returned to a proper authority and that the guard would see to it. "I'm going back to get my ring..." he begins, but I cut him off, taking an unusually bold stand as contrasted with my normal behavior. "NO, you are not. You are going to stay in the caravan and not step FOOT outside of it unless *I* say so. Do you understand?!" The squire turns his eyes down and mumbles his acquiescence. I should have known he wouldn't be thwarted so easily. I also should have known that, whilst I was engorossed in my gastronomical wizardry, both the squire and the Elf had disappeared. * * * * * * * *

Lin-Arr Recollects Earlier, Lin-Arr, the elven outrider strolls the streets, having observed the jewelerry shoppe fiasco then wandered off indifferently. Again seeing the men from the herbalist shoppe standing at the doorway taking in the commotion down the street at the jewelery shoppe, the Elf approaches them. "Are you certain you don't know where I can meet people?" he inquires bluntly of the storekeep and a patron, both of whom were speaking in hushed tones. Looking up in confusion, they both respond: "Wha?" The elf calmly restates his query and waits, taking them both in with his keen, unnerving elfin eyes. "Where can I meet people. I need to meet people". After an exhange of raised eyebrows, the shopkeeper and the patron query the elf about the kind of people he's wanting to meet, attempting to glean some sort of information about this stranger and the purpose for his odd behavior. As the elf is about to ask his next question, a ruckus outside draws all attention to a spot just up the wooden walkway of the square about a hundred yards, where a group of guards stand outside of the jewelery shoppe and a top-heavy halfling disappears inside. After a cursory glance, the elf, having apparently picked up some of the altercation with his delicate hearing, relates to his two listeners that some sort of insane lunatic is trying to kill the jeweller and rob him blind, which causes a great stir in the small tavern and more people rush to the door to watch the commotion. "So, where can I meet people?" again inquires the elf of the two men, attempting to draw their attention back to himself. Tiring of his annoying antics, the store owner smiles slightly and takes the elf aside. "Ahhh.... I'm so sorry! I know the PERFECT place for you to meet MANY fine folks. VERY friendly! This is EXACTLY the place you're looking for, my pusillanimous elven friend". The elf's ears perk up with interest, his eyebrows raising. "Where is this place? I was wanting to find a bar or inn..." The man pats him on the shoulder and nods. "Yes, yes, it will be PRECISELY what you're seeking! It is the Pink Boar, just across town. I'll give you directions so you can easily find it..." The elf listens with interest, glancing confusedly at the storekeeper's friend who smirks and chuckles occasionally as the barkeep gives Lin-Arr specific directions to the Pink Boar. "Perhaps I will go there", states the Elf and turns and walks out the door, returning to the caravan. * * * * * * * *

He leads me down an alleyway and, naturally, I am very cautious because these alleys are extremely confining. Then we come to a crossroads and he turns and says "We don't want any foreigners cutting in on our market you hear?", just then a crossbow bolt thuds into the ground to my right, as if punctuating his sentence. He then says "If you want to do business here you have to give us our cut, or, well you get the idea" as two large men appear behind me, looming massively. The man smiles seedily, says "come" and walks off down another alleyway. I follow, trying to put distance between me and the men behind me, all the while expecting an arrow from one of the many dark windows. We finally arrive in a square with a large stage dominating most of it and the rest of the square is filled with people of all occupations and types. A man dressed in leather a leather vest with a tattoo of manacles wrapped around a collar walks up to me and gives me a piece of parchment with the number 34 on it. He then takes the goblin, who is now just a ball of quivering fear, and walks off with him. An hour or two later a goblin wearing a burlap robe with the number 34 very recently painted on it is lead to the stand where a man shows his physical condition through a series of pokes, prods, and pinching of skin. The bidding starts and is soon over with a man wearing black robes with silver runes sewn all through the fabric paying five gold for him. I go get the money after the fee for selling him is deducted. Then the men that led me appear and I "choose" give them a share. After that is over I start my way back toward the caravan hoping I will be able to find some more "goods" for when we arrive in Middenheim. * * * * * * * *

"Have you seen the elf or the squire or the..."trader"?" Johann the halfling asked the nearest guard, who is still chuckling over Konan's foolhardy behavior. "Ur, no, not since everyone disappeared and the squire... the squ... HAHAHAH", the guard doubles over in laughter, still thinking about the confrontation with the guards. Johann the Massive glowers and scrunches his face up in consternation as he eyes the squire's blanket. "We need to find everyone and get settled in...it's getting late..." the Halfling sighs and takes a deep breath. "Before these maniacs get us all killed"... * * * * * * * *

Darknor on His "Trading" Venture We arrive in town and I think "The others should be able to take care of themselves for a time without my streetwise self to lead them." Little did I know how wrong I was. Fortunately for me this town is large enough to have a "rougher" side of town. I make my way toward this side of town with my "goods" in charge, goods which I am hoping to be paid a pretty penny for. I am walking down a street that has hovels on either side and piles of refuse filling the alleyways. I accost a wiry man that looks like he belongs here and talk to him in the language of thieves. He replies, telling me he will guide me to what I want.

Once again my intuition led me through the streets and apprehensively I approached the barracks which also contained jail cells for regular miscreants such as drunks and thieves and the like. Hoping against hope that they would not know where Konan was, I knocked upon the door and was immediately greeted with frowns of disapproval. "Finally - its about time one of you showed up to see where your pet dullard is!" Oh boy. Turns out Konan went to see the city guard in a misguided attempt to retrieve his ring - ending up accusing the shopkeeper of stealing it, not noticing that the shopkeeper's crossbow guard, who witnessed the entire event, was sitting at one of the table's in the very room wherein Konan was unwinding his tall tale.

Unsurprisingly, this resulted in a bump on the head and a night's stay in the pokey for the chaotic squire, who continued to insist the jeweller had his ring. I gave him some food from my jacket and attempted to talk reason to him, but the squire would have none of it, and in fact his logic was so spurious that even I, evenheaded Initiate of blessed Esmerelda herself, finally decided to take my leave of the numbskull, trusting that he would be safe behind bars that night. I later learned that he was NOT finished with his suicidal ways and through various means, managed to take a sound beating from the guards, resulting in a nice, relaxing, forced span of unconsciousness for some of the night but not the ENTIRE night... I was, however, already on my way back to the caravan. * * * * * * * *

Darknor's Return As the Elf had mentioned something about a Pink Boar Inn earlier in the night, I decided that since I now knew Konan's whereabouts, I needed to enlist the help of Darknor, who should be returning anytime soon, to find Lin-Arr the Elf. Happily, as I was approaching the caravan, I could make out Darknor's silhouette approaching from the west, sans his goblin "goods". I explained the situation to him and impressed upon him the need to find Lin-Arr. He agreed and the two of us set off to find the herbalist's shoppe in town - the shopkeeper, who was closing up, gave us directions to the Pink Boar and off we went to hopefully find our naive elfin companion. The Pink Boar was, it turned out, a fairly well-appointed place, if (as we learned later) rather disconcerting for those not familiar with its patrons' hobbies. I peered up at the wooden shingle with the Pink Boar logo but could gain no insight from it. A very large guard opened a small slat in the door at our knock. Swallowing our surprise and suspicion at the sight of lipstick and make-up on this gentleman's face, we requested entry into their establishment, explaining we were looking for our elven friend. After some consideration, we were bid enter, at which time we once again had to stay our faces after noting this was a VERY large, solidly built and well armoured man "prettied up" in so fine a fashion; the plate mail he wore was queerly colored and almost painfully bright, alternating between pink, yellow and blue. Again I racked my brain, trying to figure out why this seemed familiar, but came up with only a very real sense of unease about the situation, as though I had read of something similar once. After half an hour's queries and requests to be allowed to go upstairs and retrieve our friend (all of which met with unwavering failure), we persuaded the guard that we too would like to witness such a grand and beautiful ceremony as the one which he had been describing (which made us more anxious and fearful). Upstairs, the large guard knocked on the door and made our introductions for us to the other people in the dim, candle-lit and fragrant room, and we begged off joining right in by claiming, much to our personal distaste, to be more interested in voyeurism and witnessing the whole event; thankfully this was met with many approving and knowing looks from the room's occupants, all dressed in similarly festive and somewhat feminine fashion, some of whom, being chaotic Beastmen, vexed us greatly.

Suddenly, it came to me and I almost slapped myself on the forehead for my own ignorance as I related to Darknor that this was a Ceremony of Slaanash, a very debased and morally repugnant religion which values pleasure and self-gratification (usually carnal) above all else, regardless of the cost or the consequences. One of the main Chaotic deities, Slaanash is a popular cult among the rich nobles and merchants, some of whose tastes seem to run more to the decadent. Finally spying our friend, Lin-Arr slumped in a corner with white powder smudged across his upper lip and a serene, glassy-eyed look on his face, we arrived at a make-shift plan to rescue him and escape, making sure to stay out of earshot of any alert-looking cultists (as we now realized they were); again, happily, most of the people were "out on their feet" in ecstatic abandon, making our approach fairly straight-forward. Twice a small ornate chest of white powder was proferred us but we alternately refused with excuse of wanting to be sober to remember the entire ceremony, then that we already had some and wouldn't want to fall asleep. Lookin around the room, it looked very bad for our side, and there was a pall of despair as though someone were asking, "Does it look hopeless yet?" But armed with the knowledge that I am an initiate of the kind, plump and caring Esmerelda, I shook this feeling away and held firm to my faith. Subtly grabbing Lin-Arr, we proceeded with our spurof-the-moment plan which seemed unlikely to succeed but was better than simply running for the door in the midst of the four guards that WERE alert and keeping a fairly watchful eye on the proceedings. Darknor the Trader and myself, Johann the Initiate, waltzed Lin-Arr, wheeling and spinning around the room a handful of times, drawing near the door then dancing away, making sure the guards were not suspicious of us - they were not, which gave us hope. Finally we approached the closed door and made to move toward it, at the same time "accidentally" knocking over various candles and lamps which the cultists were using for "atmosphere", attempting to cause a diversion. Esmerelda appeared to not be smiling on us that day as the gaurds clumped together near the door, fixing us with solid stares as shouts and the sounds of steel on steel echoed from downstairs. Too close to the goal to surrender, we charged the door, attempting to knock the guards aside and/or to knock the drug-numbed cultists into the gaurds. Luckily as the commotion was about to get heated, the door splintered inward and the town guard poured into the room, some of whom we recognized as having been on watch during "Vaaga's" exploits. The captain of the guard stood directly in the doorway and ordered us out and down the stairs to safety - an entreatment he did not have to make twice as we dragged the mindless and drooling elf out into the street past the combat-filled pairs of cultists and town guard. Presently, the devil himself, Vaaga, strode past us to take his place directly beside the captain of the guard and helped fight the Pink Boar cultists; not noticing the mixed reaction on the face of the captain, who was almost murderously sick of the troublemaker, yet appreciate of the help and willingness to place himself at the forefront. Inside, Vaaga hefts and throws his spear into the room, missing but distracting a mage or priest of some important, who was in the back of the room gesturing and mumbling arcane phrases and chants - his concentration broken and spell interrupted, he is able to offer little resistance as the guard push forward and begin taking prisoners.

Outside, we wiped the sinful powder from under the elf's nose but knew it would be quite a while before he would stir into lucidity, and left him draped over his horse's back. With the battle finally subsiding and the town guard firmly dominant, the captain of the guard and Vaaga join us outside, both panting and bloody but not much more the worse for wear. "Well, that was a glorious victory! We've been trying to find and weed out this nefarious Slaanash sect for ages - you all infiltrated it and lead us right to them, catching them unawares. Excellent work, my brave travellers!" The guard glances at us meaningfully, squinting and widening his eyes in turn, attempting to convey to us the necessity of following along with his story. As we are about to mount up and head back to our caravan, Vaaga executes another of his totally unexpected maneuvers which seem to have no other purpose than to pitch us into the maw of catastrophe. "That merchant still has my ring. I'm not leaving until I get it back - that is MY ring! He stole it!" Too late, we remember Konan's obsession with the noble's ring; Darknor and myself tackle and subdue the squire, gagging him and even affixing manacles to him and draping him over the horse next to the sleeping elf. Struggling, Vaaga rides with us back to the caravan as the Captain of the Guard shakes his head and turns back to the Pink Boar to help finalize the raid. That night, general consensus between everyone on the caravan seems to indicate we leave town immediately as it is obvious by the looks on the guards' and townsfolk's faces that we have long overstayed our welcome. As we pull out of town, the snotball team, the cleric of Sigmar, the noble and the rest of our party blink in absolute disbelief as Vaaga struggles and strains and after chewing through the gag, demands to be released so he can retrieve his ring. Wanting no more part of his madness, we all agree and Darknor unlocks the manacles. No sooner are the chains off than Vaaga leaps from the moving wagon, landing with a shoulder roll in the dirt. He stands and charges back to the town as the watch and the Captain of the Guard await his approach, their already dour faces becoming black with hatred. After a short conversation with Vaaga, the Captain produces the ring from his vest pocket, grabs the squire's hand and slams it into his palm, then leans forward and quietly, dangerously, much as Vaaga did to the jeweler, states: "Do not return to my town. Do not come near my town. Do not remain in my county. I am officially ordering my men to kill you on sight. If you do anything else and show your face anywhere near Bergsburg again, I will personally hunt you down and remove your insane carcass from the earth. Leave now or I will order my men to fire". The Captain stepped back and raised his arm, index finger extended toward the departing caravan as the guardsmen raised their crossbows. Vaaga, having accomplished his mission and retrieved his ring, shrugs and turns and jogs toward the caravan, eventually catching up to it later that day. * * * * * * * *

The caravan pulls into the new town and its occupants disembark and begin scurrying around on their various chores and errands. The noble takes the small party of adventurer's aside and speaks to them before leaving the caravan. "I and my retinue will be attending the Snotball tournament now.

We are parting company as I have a reputation to uphold AND some of what I am trying to do here is reliant upon the perceptions of my travelling companions and guards and while I appreciate what you all have been through, not one of you will be able to pass for the kind of person you need to. So I thank you and wish you well but when we leave this caravan, I will be just another noble and you will be just more rabble. Do not speak or approach me or anyone with me - we do not know you and you do not know us. We will disavow any knowledge of you even to the ultimate result of your death. I bid you farewell." With that, the noble checks both ways outside the caravan and makes a hasty exit, followed by his detail of guards. The adventurers all shrug and gather up their possessions, knowing that they will no longer have the safety and refuge of the noble's caravan. Signs all over the place indicate openings for the town militia and town watch. Figuring they have nothing else to do, plus they might be able to make some profit, everyone signs up for the town watch, which is VERY large, owing to the sheer drawing power of the Snotball tournaments. Possibly 5,000 watchmen and a hundred militia patrol the streets for most of the day and some of the night, keeping order and trying to cut down on major crimes. The small group is introduced to their watch captain, Uther Gunderson, a grizzled, older veteran whose mannerisms and bearing indicate he is in a state of depression and most likely is also an alcoholic. After a briefing of what to expect and how to behave, the captain explains the first mission to the group. "There is an underground, racist terrorist group that has been making a lot of noise lately. The Brothers Militant is a group of humans concerned with racial and national purity vehemently opposed to any dealings with non-humans, considering any humans that are friendly with the other races to be 'bleeding heart sympathizers'. There is word that somewhere in the Blue Quarter in the less civilized areas of town, there is a safehouse for the Brothers. We will be delving into the darker districts to find that safehouse and capture the inhabitants - we need information on the Brothers Militant. So prepare yourselves and keep your eyes open, girls this is going to be a raid!" Two other guards that had been standing with him step forward and nod to the adventurers as they too fall in line behind the captain. After a trek through streets strewn with refuse, some of it trash and some of it people, we came to a derelict sitting on a broken-down wooden porch, stinking of alcohol. The captain approached him and spoke with him briefly, until the man, in a drunken and ill-advised spirit of rebelliousness, spit a large glob of saliva squarely in the middle of the captain's chest. The captain looked down, looked back at the vagrant, and without warning, drew back his arm and slammed the back of a gauntleted fist into the man's jaw, rendering him unconscious immediately. The captain leaned down and grabbed a handful of the man's shirt and wiped the spittle off his armor, then nodded to us and we continued on our way. Finally the captain stopped after a long hour of walking, the stench of urine and decay cloying our nostrils. He pointed to a small ramshackle two-story building ahead of us, saying only, "That's it". We spread out and surrounded each side of the building, with the captain and Vaaga charging the front door, reducing it to wood chips in mere moments, leaving the main room occupants startled and temporarily paralyzed with confusion.

<DESCRIBE BATTLES, AARON TAKING GUNS> Moving upstairs next, three rooms dared the adventurer's to enter. <FIND CHEST OF ELVENHAIR; ATTACK NUDE LADY> Loaded down with Elvenhair, the drug so illegal that in some places, its more possession results in being hanged by the neck until dead, the adventurers drag their prisoners back through the dark alleys and twisty, scum-ridden streets and back into the more civilized areas of the city, where they are to be interrogated. The captain of the guard basically gives his charges free reign, noting only that they need the prisoners alive and relatively unharmed and that they need to know as much as possible about the activities, leaders and locations of the Brothers Militant. "We will be doing more than that tomorrow," he mentions offhandedly. "The guard is satisfied with raids but if we can get to the bottom of the Brothers, this would crack the whole thing wide open and I would be able to retire and we would all be heroes. I think we could all do with some extra coins and fame, don't you? Meet me tomorrow and I'll tell you the plan." He takes his leave and disappears into the city, followed a short time later by myself, owing to a self-imposed duty to offer couseling and consolation to the lost. After about an hour of the captain drinking and trying to work through his pain with my help, he seemed a little less glum and thanked me for my kind concern. "Its about time for everybody to be headin' back to the barracks, son" the captain said as he took another swallow of his ale and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "We've got things to do in the morning and the watch can't afford to be sleepy. You go get some rest. I'm gonna stay here for a bit and talk to the barkeep and then I'm going to do the same. I'll see you all nice and early in the mornin'". I nodded and wished the captain goodnight, not knowing that was the last time I would see him alive. <INTERROGATE SUSPECTS - Write this out> As Johann had disappeared to find the Sergeant, Darknor and Lin-Arr had elected themselves for the position of interrogation. The Watch Commander, eyeing the motley group of adventurers who are blinking and yawning as they are forced to stand at attention instead of turn in, skips preamble and jumps right into the shocking announcement. "Well, I'm not one to mince words. The captain of your watch patrol is dead. He was found less than half an hour ago - stabbed in the back. Does anyone know anything?" He looks at each in turn then motions for them to follow him to the tavern where I left the Sergeant only a short while ago. In the tavern, guards stand by the door, allowing only the Commander and the group to pass. I check the body and find a very large wound, most likely made by a heavy sword, directly in the kidney area of the lower back. An ale tankard lies on its side on the table, the last vestiges of ale soaking into the rough hewn surface.

"I'm going to find the bastard that did this" mutters the Commander as he looks around the room at the scant few patrons, then at the guards and then the group. I shift my attention from the body and approach the Commander with this advice. "We need a weapons check now, Commander. Right this very second", I look around at everyone in the room, raising my voice. "Everyone stand and present weapons. This is a full weapons inspection". Everyone grumbles but agrees and the guard, the Commander and I inspect everyone's scabbard and sidearm, whether knife, sword, spear or ax, for blood - the adventurers are also severely analyzed. "I still can't believe somebody just walked in here and killed the Sergeant" ventured Konan as he replaced his sword in its scabbard after inspection. I nodded, "I know. I was the last one to see him, I had just left him". Furrowing my brow in concentration, the diminutive guardsman tried to recall who he had seen enter the tavern last but to my recollection, no one had; I shook his head and looked at the Commander, who sighed and called everyone to attention. "Well men, we've found nothing this night. I will set people right on this tomorrow but for now we all need to sleep. There is nothing more we can do for the Sergeant". Nodding silent agreement, the adventurers filed out of the tavern. Johann, perhaps being privvy to the legality of elvenhair, then again perhaps not, bakes up a nice batch of Moonflower Biscuits that night, making certain that none of the other cooks are in the mess hall when he does so. He waits for them to cool then stashes them in his pouch and heads off to bed. <BARRACKS, INN - RATMAN ATTACK, MANACLED CODY> In the morning, the group reports to their normal station to find the Commander of the Watch standing, waiting to address them. "Good, now that you're all here, I have another announcement. Due to the murder of the Sergeant, your patrol is hereby disbanded. You may either rejoin another patrol or take your leave of the watch - it is your decision, but because of the circumstances last night, the original watch patrol cannot be maintained. If anyone has any questions or comments, please direct them to a ranking watch captain. That is all". With that, the Commander nods to everyone curtly and turns and leaves, followed by two guardsmen, leaving the small group staring at each other questioningly. After wandering around and discussing their various options, the group of adventurers agree upon a trip to the tavern. Entering the tavern, the trader, squire, halfling and elf gain little notice as there are worse sorts nursing drinks in the corners. Darknor looks down at his side as he feels a very gentle tugging; a small, slender hand with a firm grip on his belt pouch is attempting to rob him. Darknor spins around to face the woodbe thief, who freezes for a moment in surprise - the trader seizes the opportunity and grabs the youth roughly in a crushing headlock. Darknor's eyebrows arch in surprise as the youth attempts to pull his dagger from its sheath. WHOMP! Darknor drives his fist directly into the young rogue's face, being careful not to break his nose. The thief slumps into unconsciousness, remaining upright only by Darknor's restraining hold.

The group scans the room, taking in the most prominent figures. A man with a garish hat, complete with feather, sits at a table in the center of the room. VAAGA MEETS WITH CONTACT, GAINS SWORD HEAD OF BROTHERS IS KILLED LIN-ARR MEETS WITH SOMEONE CODY ATTEMPTS TO STEAL, THEN KILL DARKNOR DARKNOR MEETS WITH SOMEONE PARTY FOLLOWS RUMORS TOWARD FARMHOUSE PARTY CAMPS HALFLING IS RECALLED PARTY FIGHTS RATMEN ON ROAD, MEET WITH FUTURE SHERIFF'S PARTY PARTY ENTERS TOWN Gibriol Recalls: "Why did I stay at this place," I wondered to myself as the sound of metal on metal woke me FAR too early in the morning. I knew of course, that the rumours of potent magickal artifacts was my reason for being here, and I would make the same choice again if given the chance. "CLANG!" Probably that damnable blacksmith or some other craftsman who don't know that you never start work until well after dawn. I rub my eyes and peer out the inn window and are frozen in shock at what I see: large, mangy, man-sized creatures with the heads of sewer rats, dressed in red and black cloaks are EVERYWHERE! They are overrunning the town! The local farmers and merchants fight back with pitchforks, hoes and whatever else they have. The town militia, such as it is, is making a valiant effort but falling to the squaking horde, who scream inane double talk, their favorite seeming to be "Die! Die! We kill! Kill!" Well, probably not much on debating, I'd guess. I gather my things together and open the door a crack to make sure I'm not caught unawares. Whew! There's a rat-man standing with his back to me. How fortunate I brought this hammer with me... "WHOCK!" Hmm, they're heavier than they look. I drag him inside my room and *phew* do they stink! I garb myself in his filthy robe and don the hood, letting it overhang my face quite a bit, perhaps I'll be able to sneak out of town... no, wait! The artifacts, the items, the books! Damn! I peer out the door again and see a hardy group of people giving the rats a run for their money. They appear to be strangers - I'll bet they're here for MY artifacts! Well, if they hold off the rats, more power to them. I creep outside and don't appear to be drawing any attention so I turn and attempt to escape behind the inn. Ah! A ratman, hood down over his face, is headed straight for me! I'm not much on fighting but I won't stand here and let him fell me! Have at you! My hammer misses and the creature jumps backward in shock. He throws back his rat-cloak hood. A human! Like me! His wild eyes warn of mental instability. We eye each other uncertainly then go our seperate ways, replacing our hoods. Good lord, if he lives through this, I'm sure I'll be hearing of him again. I search my brain for any tidbits I've heard in the last few days I've stayed at the inn and the only thing I can come up with is the mill.

I make my way there, avoiding dueling rats and farmers. Once there, I find the miller collapsed in a fetal position in the corner; I then remember to remove my hood - poor cowardly fellow. I shrug and search the mill, hoping for a trap door or hidden compartment. There it is, in the floor under the mill wheel! I hear voices as I am about to open it so I remain still and silent, hoping they will go away, whoever it is. A woman steps into view, armed as well as any man. Damn - she's talking to the miller. "You in here. Come out now, show yourself!" Argh, I've been made! I join the woman in the room, proclaiming, "I am Gibriol the Pious, non-denominational monk. I was in the inn when the fighting started and I chased a rat-man in here, but he disappeared". I glance over at the miller to see if he will contradict my story, but I can tell by the puddle on the floor under him that he is thinking of other things. After deflecting a few questions best left unanswered, I bid Leif Briarwood, the too-curious woman, good luck, telling her I will stay here and protect the mill and miller. Hahaha. Fool. The goody-goodies are just SO gullible! I turn to go back to the trap door and ANOTHER voice catches my attention. Sighing, I stand and wait as the new person enters the mill. Its almost as though I'm drawing people here! A fairly tall, tough-looking muscular man dressed in too-small rat-robes nods at me, a slight sneer permanently affixed to his face. After exchanging "pleasantries", I learn that I am conversing with Darknor the Trader, who suspiciously deflects MY questions as to what exactly it is that he trades and where his goods are, leading me to believe he is something ELSE besides what he makes himself out to be. Hmmm, so, MORE ulterior motives. This could get interesting if we live through it... Thinking it safer to have a second person, figuring I can kill him at an opportune moment, I tell Darknor of the trap door I found. We quickly open it and make our way down the stairs into a long, dark tunnel, which to my knowledge, should not be here. It looks huge. As we make our way down it, rapid footsteps can be heard coming toward us, accompanied by the clanking of metal. Unable to hide, we stand our ground to meet the threat. It is a solidly-built man wearing half-plate and a majestic white wolf cloak and headpiece. I had never seen a fullfledged Elder of Ulric before - he is MOST imposing, especially with that very large, rune-covered silver hammer he is carrying in one hand. We back up and kneel, introducing ourselves, on the off-chance he is not looking to smash us into tiny bits. We learn, as he runs by, that he is the town elder and is on his way to defend the town. Darknor and I look at each other and an unspoken agreement of "If we can help him out, we might be rewarded - and if he dies, then we can get his stuff" passes between us. We run to catch up to the elder, who is already laying into rat-men left and right. PARTY FIGHTS RATMEN IN TOWN DARKNOR AND GIBRIOL TRAVEL TOGETHER, FIND ELDER, FOLLOW HIM LIN-ARR MURDERS PRIEST LEIF DISCOVERS FARMWIVES IS FARMHOUSE LEIF AND FUTURE PRIEST INVESTIGATE TUNNELS, FIND ITEMS GIBRIOL READS HAMMER AND SCROLL AND BUYS SCROLL

PARTY AND ELDER ENCOUNTERS RAT-MAGE, CHAOS GAS GIBRIOL TAKES SWORD AND HEAD OF RAT MAGE, DRINKS FUTURE SHERIFF'S POTION (LEIF) VAAGA/LIN-ARR KILL ELDER DARKNOR GOES INTO FOREST, GAINS CHAOS ATTRIBUTE INVESTIGATION OF TUNNELS UNDER MILL/FARMHOUSE DARKNOR AND GIBRIOL SNEAK PAST RAT SERVICE MEANDERINGS IN TUNNELS RAT-FIGHT, GIBRIOL USES VAMPIRE SWORD RAT SURRENDERS TO LIN-ARR RETURN TO INN GIBRIOL FEEDS SKAVEN FLESH TO SPIKE DARKNOR FINDS CHILD IN GRASS GIBRIOL FINDS ABBEY GIBRIOL TRADES SWORDS WITH VAAGA NEW PRIEST REBUILDS CHURCH GIBRIOL DISAPPEARS, GAINS FOLLOWERS MERCHANTS ARRIVE VAAGA SHOWS RING TO MERCHANTS SHERIFF PAYS MERCHANT OFF INVESTIGATION OF TUNNELS DARKNOR DESECRATES RAT-GOD TEMPLE UNDERGROUND RETURN TO INN GIBRIOL REAPPEARS VAAGA ATTEMPT TO ASSASSINATE HIGH MERCHANT VAAGA CAPTURED, HEALED, STRIPPED OF ITEMS, RELEASED VAAGA CAPTURED BY BEASTMAN LIN-ARR STUMBLES UPON VAAGA AND THE BEASTMAN AND USES THE HAMMER GIBRIOL AND DARKNOR ARRIVE AT SCENE DARKNOR AND GIBRIOL RETURN TO TOWN W/ VAAGA AND SHERIFF ARGUMENT W/ SHERRIFF OVER POSSESSION OF VAAGA LEAVING TOWN W/ VAAGA DARKNOR AND GIBRIOL RUN INTO SLAANASH LIN-ARR RITUAL OF HAMMER VAAGA IS SOLD TO THE ASSASSINS GUILD OF MIDDENHEIM A MONTH PASSES SHERRIFF BUILDS UP TOWN'S DEFENSE PRIEST STARTS REBUILDING TEMPLE GIBRIOL BEGINS REPAIRING AND FURNISHING ABBEY DARKNOR FINDS RIVERHOUSE AND 4 GOBLINS VAAGA HOLDS MAN HOSTAGE (1) CONVERSION ATTEMPTS THEN WALKING

RAT CLEARING RAT ARMY FOUND DARKNOR WARNS TOWN GIBRIOL GOES TO TOWN TOO DARKNOR AND LIN-ARR JOINS ARMY ARMY MARCHES ATTACK IS MADE IN THE CONFUSION DARKNOR'S GROUP ATTACKS NARGS CAVALRY ATTACKS FROM WOODS AND RAT ARMY RETREATS DARKNOR STAYS AND COLLECTS WIZARD HAND THEN LEAVES GIBRIOL COLLECTS WIZARD STUFF AND ALSO LEAVES A month passes........ ITS BIGGER THAN A BREAD TRUCK first sightings of the horror in the skies THE NEW BARON ARRIVES WITH CAVALCADE POMP AND CIRCUMSTANCE new rules discontent among some of the citizenry New shop keepers analysts are bullish on shire economy SPEECH given by the GRAND DUKE of Middenland PEOPLE unmoved continue drinking. VAGA THE LEGEND CONTINUES 1000gc bounty MORE MYSTERIOUS KILLINGS A theft of jeweled necklace by vaga the uncareing no crime to heinus! TERROR IN THE SKYS PEOPLE SKEERT (Dismembered bodies, raining fingers/toes/bidness, local troops put up a good scrap)

Gibriol and a small group, consisting of Roy, a gravedigger, Karl, a footpad, and three Arabyan miner/sappers, patrols the woods, finding an overgrown cave entrance with two bodies, fully clothed and equipped, lying before it. He sends two of his boys in to grab the bodies and they barely escape, as the two large plants suddenly spring to life and awful tendrils grab at them. After looting the bodies a safe distance away, Gibriol has his Arabyan sapper/miners toss a couple of bombs up to the plant-creatures. A few seconds and two deafening explosions later, one of the creatures is a charred stump while the other is on fire. Instructing his men to strip one of the bodies and save the clothing, Gibriol indicates the other's clothes should be thrown on the remaining creature to speed its immolation. After watching the thing's death throws in fascination, Gibriol's party proceeds through the entrance and finds a fork in the cave. Gibriol sends out Spike, his flying chaos hound familiar, who telepathically reports eerie whisperings and raspings come from the south tunnel, telling Gibriol that straight west is the best course, and the zgroup finds an old cave full of tattered remains of what once had been fine clothing. Following another tunnel south-west, the group finds a large room containing books, scrolls and a chest; not one to pass up a good book, Gibriol leafs through each of them, a sly grin spreading across his face as he recognizes a few dark spells and ways to identify different types

of undead - his look turns to disgust as he leafs through another book depicting horrendous torture. A dark, narrow tunnel leads down to the west, and the rasping grows louder in the previous chamber, now clearly audible moans also accompany the unsettling whispering echoing throughout the cave. Karl, a footpad, and Ashur, one of the Arabyans, blanches as their torches and helmet lamps reveal an amphasbaena, a two headed snake almost twenty feet in length, slithering up the west tunnel toward them. The footpad breaks and retreats into the room, now wishing he hadn't, as a handful of zombies shamble into sight in the previous tunnel far to the east. The remaining five people and Spike, the Chaos familiar, charge the snake, fending it off with fire. One fateful strike later and one of the Arabyans stumbles backward and slumps against the wall, ichor oozing from the large fang-mark in his leg. Finding nothing else of value in the snake's home, the group drops a torch at the back of the offshoot, using the serpent's fear of fire to hold it in place as they return to the larger chamber to face the new threat. Knowing they will need all the help they can get, Gibriol unsheathes a wicked-looking two-handed sword with a grisly bone-handle and cross-piece. The artifact known as a Necromancer's Blade, was a very lucky trade the wizard made to Vaaga the Uncaring, a man who grows more dangerous by the minute. Gibriol reads the inscription on the sword and waits as three skeletons step out from the shadows behind the group. Gibriol smiles and nods to the rest of the boys. Wasting no time, Gibriol steps directly in front of the undead and raises a small leather pouch, chanting softly, his brow furrowed in concentration. He unties the pouch and flings the contents at the approaching abominations, pelting them with grave dust - grave dust charged with the arcane power of Gibriol's magical chant. Three zombies collaps into heaps of dust immediately. Gibriol and his party simply charge the remaining two zombies, eventually dispatching them. Dragging their injured and poisoned companion back to the mouth of the cave, Gibriol and party decide it necessary to now check out the remaining branch, after healing the injured Arabyan through magickal means. Entering the south tunnel, the group sees it opens into a larger room ahead. Determined to face the horror, they continue on. Gibriol has only enough time to open his mouth and yell in shock and warning as the power-filled, animated mage-corpse ahead finishes his spell, pointing a finger at the group. A great orange ball of flame zips forward, smashing into the center of the party, searing flesh and knocking Gibriol and the footpad unconscious. The rest of the group, to their credit and Gibriol's gratitude, pull their injured comrades from the cave, cover and conceal it, and return to the abbey, where the men can recover and Gibriol can go through the items they found, and plan the second attack. A week later, the party returns, having restocked their supplies, healed up and steeled themselves with vengeance, now also taking three more men with them, just in case. Unsettled by the fact that the once-covered and disguised cave is layed open without care does not deter Gibriol from the task at hand; holding the Necromancer's Blade aloft, Gibriol sends a summons directly to the plane of death - disappointingly, only one skeleton appears

due to Gib's still-poor condition. The group charges headlong into the cavern now, Gibriol flinging more grave dirt into the room, annihilating all but one zombie and the Lich himself, who again seems to be preparing a spell. Gibriol turns and nods to Keder, one of the Arabyans, who places a large metal bomb in the skeleton's bony hands and lights the fuse. The skeleton, under Gibriol's command, dutifully walks up to the Lich and grabs hold of his cloak as the rest of the humans retreat. The skeleton turns to walk back toward the group, now under the Lich's influence, but the fuse sputters down into the body of the explosive and the cave is rocked as chunks of undead rain down. The remaining zombie and what is left of the Lich, both now on fire, stumble around and are eventually felled by the large group of dark adventurers. Expressing dismay at the widespread destruction the bomb caused as he looks at the flaming tapestries, Gibrol decides to cut his losses and has his men grab the Lich's corpse and carries it back to the abbey, making certain to carry the skull himself. Gibriol returns to the cave, a "pit/door" is constructed to house the amphasbaena. The group repairs and cleans up the cave, sealing up the original entrance (making sure to steer clear of the remaining carnivorous plants) and making a new one on the opposite side of the cave. Gibriol sets the Arabyans to work mining under the town, abbey and cave. Gibriol meets with the visiting dignitary from Cathay, Princess "Amadalia"