OOC:
Game thread continues here.

Elboc looks out over the sands, shielding his eyes with his hand.

"It feels good to have sky above my head once more. Does anyone know which way our destination lay, before we lost the caravan?"

The Cynidicean squinted at the brightness as the light poured into the chamber when the final door was opened. Beyond was what these strange newcomers called 'The World Above' or something like that. It was with no small amount of trepidation that he edged closer to peer forth into this wondrous new realm which he really hadn't believed to exist. He held up a hand to shield the lenses of his odd mask in order to behold the amazing beauty of...

The journey to this point had been rather uneventful save for the various triflings of goatsmanship. He'd listened to stories of this room and that where such and so forth happened. His favorites of these fantastical tales were the ones which included a colorful water-finding dwarf character. Hamburg wished he'd have had the chance to meet such a fellow, if indeed the odd chap really existed, but the others claimed he'd been lost in the maze-like catacombs below the city. The wizard found himself thoroughly enjoying the expedition upward...

Hamburg reached absently into a pocket, expecting to withdraw a handful of dried mushrooms, but was dismayed to find his supply nearly exhausted. He stuffed a few crumbs and broken stems beneath his mask, but the euphoric and hallucinogenic effect wasn't quite strong enough to help him deal with the shock of what he beheld beyond the door...

Finally screwing up enough courage to step through the portal, Hamburg felt the instant heat hit him, the dry air choke him, and the burning sand beneath his worn boots, not to mention the excruciating brightness coming from some awesome orb above! He took a few more steps, feeling a sense of... whatever the opposite of vertigo would be... as, for the first time in his life, he had sky above him instead of infinite tons of stone.

"Wh-what? By the Three, I don't believe it!" He stood for many long moments, staring around him in awe at the endless sea of sand, burning hot and empty. He made several more attempts to behold the glowing orb, but its intensity was such that the wizard finally gave up any hope of ever seeing it without blinding himself in the process. Beneath his strange mask and cheaply fashioned costume, his body was having a strange reaction. Hamburg was alarmed to feel suddenly wet as he seemed to be excreting water from his skin!

But even the new sensation of sweating could not distract him long from the wonder of the vista around him, and regardless of the discomfort, Hamburg was thrilled to experience his emergence!

He took a deep breath of air that was not stale nor stagnant. It was moving and clean and smelled so very, very good.

Giddily he scampered across the top of a dune, losing his balance and falling upon the baking sand, but quickly jumping right back up laughing. Even the very dead raven wired to his should seemed to be enjoying itself, and the disembodied hand stepped gingerly sideways not unlike a cat crossing mud. It did not look nearly as enthused as its master...

"Look how far it goes! Almost forever! Wonderful!"

Lanliss feels the warm sand sift through their hands as they taste the dry wind, stumbling about in the daylight almost like one of the mushroom addled townsfolk below. In the first time that anyone can remember he smiles and laughs.

"Be the first to praise the sun, first to praise the moon..."

Lanliss sings a song of thanks he learned from two desert elves that played around the campfire as they journeyed with the caravan.

"First to hold a lone coyote, and last to set it free..."

He pets one of the goats.

"If only this was a herd of deer...and the dunes a thicket of trees....but now at least, closer to home...."

The journey to the west takes almost three days, traveling as much in the morning and evening as possible, and trying to keep out of the punishing sun during the day.  The last of the water is running out just as you top one more dune to find a glimmering river a handful of miles before you, bordered by lush vegetation for a mile or so on either side.  Farms are interspersed with squat, square structures here and there, and you can see people and livestock moving about in the distance.

There is no sign of major habitation anywhere, but there does look to be a strange boat with greatly curved bow and stern docked at the limit of your vision to the north, on this north-south running river.

Voran took to his new role as goatherd pretty calmly, guiding his charges patiently up the winding path. When the party breaks out into the open, he beams openly, singing a short song to the sun.



Voran smiles and wanders over to Hamburg. "Welcome to the rest of the world, my good man. Welcome to the rest of the world."

He then drives his goats forward!

Roak is first one out of the door and whoops when he sees the desert. He does a handstand and a little shimmying dance. He even hugs a goat. "Let's go, guys! Back to civilization!"



By this point, Roak's enthusiasm has worn off and he's back to his normal gruff self. At the sight of the river, he perks up. He points to the closest part of the river. "Let's go there, well away from the boat, to water the goats. We can see how the locals react to us from there."

Elboc helps to herd the goats, keeping a close eye on the villagers and not wanting any goat to run away with a king's fortune strapped to it.

"Perhaps we should send someone to talk to the villagers. And find out who's on that boat. I don't want them stealing our ill-gotten goods."

Some half an hour later the party have made their way down to the river.  The bank is steep here, but the drop to the water is only about five feet, and several paths can be found to have been cut, allowing easy access for livestock to the water.  It is notable just how wide the river actually is here.  It is even wider than a long bow shot.  This is a huge river.

Obvious notice of our heroes is taken, with people running and pointing, but none approach immediately.

The elf waves at them, indicating we mean no harm.

Roak doesn't reply much to these, mostly focusing on keeping the goats from bolting. He's begun getting attached to the goats; he's even named them all. He seems particularly fond of the goat he's named "Dopey."

Voran, meanwhile, smiles without showing his teeth and waves at the natives. He doesn't lose track of the goats and the others, but he does pay more attention to these local people and will move slowly to meet them if some begin to engage.

Elboc keeps a wary eye on the boat, but he'll join Voran in moving to meet the locals.

Hamburg's steps had been faltering and his shoddy robes were soaked through with sweat. The thrill of this new world had nearly worn off with the strenuous trek. But all of that was about to change when he beheld the river and the village! His voice cracked terribly as he tried to rasp out something intelligible. Finally, he strode directly into the water, scooping it with one hand and lifting his mask slightly with the other in order to drink greedily. Finally, satisfied, he looked around and took in the new scenery once more.

"We've made it to your city? Is this from whence you all hail?" These seemed to be the questions he was most able to form amongst quite a lot of gibberish. It could be that the odd wizard was simply dehydrated, but in fact, that was only part of his ills...

...he'd consumed the last crumbs of his mushrooms a day ago, and the combination of chemical withdrawal and clear-headedness was a situation he was not handling very well.

"D-do any of you have anything to eat?" he asked desperately, meaning of course the psychedelic fungi he'd eaten daily since a child.

"Maybe those people have some..." he surmised, lunging from the water and heading toward the village.

"This? No. My homeland is far far away. Much more shade and not nearly as hot."

"Who are you?" comes the cautious call as a small group of the locals some within shouting distance.  They are dressed in heavily-worn and fairly minimal clothing, none of it very clean, and they look nervous.  Only men have approached you, all of them with skin of a deep brown shade, likely as much due to much hard work outside as their own natural coloring.  Two of the four look to be carrying wooden hoes, and the other two have short wooden spears in their hands, without metal heads.

"We were with a caravan but got lost," says Elboc. "What is this place. Is there a city nearby?"

Voran nods and adds an introduction to each member of the party. "We seek a city to rest in," he adds.

Approaching the armed men, dripping with water, the odd wizard made a gesture of greeting, or whatever approximation thereof he thought appropriate. From what he'd read, this could be dangerous, as often something simple as an upturned hand could have many very different meanings amongst several cultures.

"Hail! I am..." he paused. "I am..." The masked face cocked to one side in confusion. He began again another time or two, but wasn't able to express his identity for some reason. It was quite curious to be sure, as if there were more than one personality vying to the fore.

His head felt leaden and light at the same time.

"Ham...burg, yes, Hamburg."

The bedraggled-looking stuffed raven on his shoulder seemed to be just as confused as the mage.

"F-food, mushrooms! Have you any?"

"Xeriops is that way," one of the men says, gesturing upriver, toward where the boat is.

"It will be your best bet for accommodation, for you and your..." another starts, then blanches when seeing the exceedingly heavy packs on the goats, "your livestock."

"We definitely can't help you here," another says in an overly-harsh tone, then he's elbowed hard by another of his companions who is holding his hoe overly-tightly and looks fairly frightened.

A fourth looks confused, then asks Hamburg, "What are mush-rooms?"

Voran nods sagely but frowns slightly. "Are you folks having some kind of trouble here?" he asks off-handedly.

The odd wizard paused, surely blinking behind his mask, "Mushrooms. You know... Food. Not meats. They, they're grown and harvested for eating, or sometimes for smoking, occasionally for making shampoo and perfume... or for stuffing mattresses even."

He seemed to be at a loss that anyone would not know what a mushroom was. It was such a staple part of the Cynidicean lifestyle that he could scarcely fathom the man's question.

"What's your word for mushrooms?" he asked his companions, thinking that perhaps this poor fellow just didn't understand the nomenclature.

The sand seemed to be shifting beneath his feet, making him feel queasy as if he might tip over.

"Perhaps he meant fungus. It seems he'd like to eat some fungus. On the other hand, if you have some meats and wines, I think that would be more to my tastes."

"Please forgive my companions here," the first speaker explains, visibly relaxing a bit, "but no one comes out of the desert from the direction which you came.  They are unnerved, and a bit frightened by stories they heard while still in their cradles.  My name is Nemeter, and this is the village of Artenofre.  Our homes are meager, and you truly will be able to find better accommodation in Xeriops.  The barge is being loaded with the early harvest now, and I suspect that the captain would be glad of even what little coin he could extort from you."  The man's face forms into a half-smile at this last pronouncement.

Voran bows. "Thank you, Nemeter; well-met. Is this barge headed for Xeriops down this river?"

"Indeed it is, and it is due to put off in the next hour," he explains.  "It will take a bit less than half of that to get to it, if you intend to travel with the good captain."

Voran nods and quickly turns to his companions. "I propose we seek passage. The worst he can say is no."

Elboc agrees, and strikes a goat or two to get them moving in the direction of the boat.

Cajoling the goats to travel toward the boat proves to be more difficult than originally anticipated.  They want to stop and eat some of everything, and it is only with the assistance of the locals that the party makes their appointment with the captain before he shoves off.

Passage upriver is shortly obtained, at the exorbitant sum of three pieces of gold for the group and their livestock, and they are crowded into the boat, along with a large amount of local vegetables and a couple of other passengers.

The boat might be called a barge only in euphemism.  It measures a mere fifteen feet from side to side at its widest point, and perhaps fifty feet from curving stern to curving prow.  With the exception of an exceedingly small cabin in the prow, the whole of the inside is open, and all parts of the vessel show signs of long use, but good repair.

Elboc will check how low the boat lies in the water. It presumably wasn't designed to carry as much gold as it currently is.

Roak, meanwhile, organizes the party into a perimeter around the goats, keeping them toward the center of the barge.

Elboc checks how the boat sits in the water, and while he finds that it seems quite heavily laden, it's at no risk of capsizing, short of a sudden and violent storm.  He scans the sky and finds no indication of such a storm.

The sky is an unrelieved blue above, but the heat here on the river is noticeably less than the punishing heat of the desert.  Palm trees grow on the banks of the waterway, shading both the water and lower-growing plants.  A light breeze moves along and carries the worst of the heat away with it, while adding a faint mist that refreshes more than soaks.

Two hours later Xeriops comes into view.  The land around here gives a brief glimpse before a low hill obscures it again.  When rounding the hill the much larger settlement opens out before our heroes.  Xeriops is no metropolis, but looks to house several thousand souls, and has a low wall encircling what most be the oldest part of the small city.  Flat-roofed, clay brick structures squat in haphazard rows, often one atop another, in a city bustling, but obviously winding down.  The sun is starting to set, and temperatures are dropping fairly swiftly.

In the distance, to the north, are purple gray smudges that the captain tells you are part of a mountain range.  More desert can be seen to the south, west, and east (from whence you all came).

As the boat slides up to the docks, you estimate that you have about an hour until dark.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:01, Wed 28 July 2021.

Roak works with the others to herd the goats off the boat and waits for someone to tell him where to go with them.

During the journey, Voran asks the crew of the boat discreetly for a good place to water and watch their little flock of goats for the night. He spends some silver on them (from his coin purse, never ever opening the sacks and chests on the goats) if it loosens their tongues.

Once they reach the city, Elboc will try to find a wizard who could make or locate a bag of holding. That has to be easier than using goat to transport their riches.

Elder Voran gets directions to a local stable that regularly houses livestock from up and down the river.  The captain himself delivers this information, obviously well pleased with the money he already received from the party.

Once the goats and their packs are settled, nearby lodgings are fairly easily found, and the sun has completely set by the time the party is ready to rest from the day's journey.

Elboc will need to take some time to see if there is a wizard of any sort here, likely starting in the morning.

"Are we leaving the bags with the goats?" asks Elboc. "If so, we should set up a guard here. I can take first watch."

Roak nods. "Yeah, we totally are, and we should watch in pairs. Voran, why don't you watch with Elboc; Vsaati and me can take second watch and then Hamburg and Lanliss can take the third watch."

OOC:
I think you guys have forgotten about Sherborne.

OOC: Well to be honest I haven't actually been very active so I'm not offended by that or anything.  I am finding that this medium lately doesn't really work for me so I was considering having Sherborne perhaps just stay at the next town and maybe do what cleric's do while everyone moves on.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:51, Tue 03 Aug 2021.

Part of the way through their watch, Roak and Vsaati both notice a pair of human-seeming eyes looking in on them, then scrambling away before they can be followed.  No other disturbances mark the evening, and the next day dawns, cold and bright.

The day will surely be heating up, here in the desert.

Roak pulls everyone together. "I say we still keep watch over the goats while some of us go find somewhere we can buy something else to carry our stuff besides goats. Who wants to go mule- or camel-shopping?"

Elboc volunteers to keep an eye on the goats. He doesn't want to leave the treasure if he can help it.

Sherborne decides to stay with the goats as well while others find transportation.

Roak and those going with him soon find local sellers of riding horses, camels, and mules.  No draft horses are available here, and not many riding horses.  None of them look up to the task of carrying heavy burdens over long distances.

After some haggling and implied insults to heritage and ancestry, prices are arrived at.

OOC:
Camels:  100gp each
Mules:    30gp each

Riding saddles and tack:  25gp each
Saddlebags:                5gp each  (50# capacity each)
Pack saddles and tack:    15gp each  (300# capacity each)

Hamburg had become very ill. The effects of the hallucinogenic mushrooms he'd grown up eating had finally ended entirely. The heat had caused him to sweat considerably and his dark robes and leather mask were soaked. He drank constantly from whatever waterskin he could find and at one point members of the party found him licking the insides of pouches and pockets which had once held dried bits of subterranean fungi.

His mind, so accustomed to being in a perpetual state of cloudiness, was now clear and sharp for the first time in his life. Thoughts surged at the speed of light and the clarity of unobstructed contemplation was terrifying. He slipped in and out of residual hallucinations as his brain began the painful and chaotic process of rebuilding pathways even as his body dealt with the physical effects of withdrawal.

"Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua." he muttered, meaninglessly.

The stimulus of the new world in which he found himself would have been nearly overwhelming without the chemical suffering... it was a testimony to his fortitude that he could even walk!

Despite there being thousands of humans in this town, Elboc finds that he is unable to locate a dealer in magical devices, aside from the run-of-the-mill charms and talismans used to ensure that evil does not enter a home, or that prevent goat milk from souring.

The locals tell our heroes of richer settlements to the north, beyond the purple mountains which can been seen in the distance.  The route is well-traveled, and should only take two to three weeks.  Perhaps some of what Elboc seeks can be found there, and perhaps the party will be able to find some use for their excess coin in the same location.

Voran, very eager to move on with things, goes out and hires:

5 camels for the party plus saddles and tack
6 guards
4 drovers
6 horses and tack for guards
4 horses and tack for drovers

Meanwhile, Elboc will set about buying enough food and water for the journey.

It takes the bulk of the day to assemble purchases and get the men hired.  One of the drovers also works as a guide, a he relates that travel in the evening and morning are the best times to do so, due to the extreme heat of the day.

Wit that in mind, he suggests that the party either leave immediately, or arise and get moving about an hour before sunrise.

Elboc will suggest starting now, unless one of the others disagrees.

Voran agrees!

Roak, looking every part the caravan-master that he now is, gets this party underway!

The heat is much easier to bear, especially with advice from the locals regarding how to dress, and travel only in the mornings and evenings.  Days are punishingly hot, but are spent under cover.  Nights are cruelly cold, but are spent wrapped in blankets and backed up against the warmth of the camels and horses.

Midway through the third day, sign of other travelers is seen, but instead of them being on what passes, more or less, for a road, they are coming toward the party at right angles.

"This is not good," the guide/drover announces to the party.  "There are no settlements in that direction, and whoever they are, there are a lot of them.  See how much dust they are kicking up?"

Voran will try to use his keen Elvish vision to see what he can of the newcomers.

Elboc squints into the distance, eventually able to make out humanoid forms with strange, overly-large heads and hunched shoulders.  They appear to be dressed in some sort of mottled yellow-and-brown hides, and they have similarly-colored quadrupeds with them.

As they come closer is become clear that they are not dressed in the skins, but that they are their hides.  A band of six gnolls and five hyenas is approaching at a jog.

OOC:
I assume that you meant that Elboc looks, and not Voran.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:58, Fri 03 Sept 2021.

Roak stops everyone and turns to Elboc. "Well, what do you see?" he says impatiently.

OOC: Yes, I did mean Elboc. No idea why I wrote Voran

"A group of gnolls," says Elboc as he readies his bow. "We should prepare for combat."

Voran looks alarmed. "Oh, dear. Well, since we have a bit of time, I propose the guards stay with our treasures and we head out as a group to intercept the gnolls. I can offer a blessing for us before they reach us."

The gnolls and their hyenas advance, but there's plenty of distance and our heroes are able to act first.

OOC:
07:27, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 2 using 1d6.  Monsters' Initiative.
07:27, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d6.  Players' Initiative.

Lanliss readies his Wand of Paralyzation for when they get in range.

Elboc will cast sleep at them.

Elboc casts his spell at its extreme range, and all five hyenas drop, deeply asleep.  Their gnoll companions are too busy rushing forward to realize that this has happened until they are too far past where the sleeping animals are to do anything about this.

Lanliss points his wand and one of the six remaining gnolls falls, frozen in place.

OOC:
Hamburg, Roak, and Elder Voran, we'll go on to the enemy's actions when you've posted.

Elder Voran utters a prayer and the party is empowered!

Cast Bless--all members of the party have +1 to hit and +1 to damage for 6 turns!

Roak prepares his bow and fires at one of the still-moving gnolls!

Hit easily (AC -2) for 4 hp on one non-sleeping, non-paralyzed gnoll.

13:17, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 4 using 1d6+1 with rolls of 3.  Damage.
13:17, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 19 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 17.  Shortbow on non-paralyzed, non-sleeping gnoll.

Hamburg finds himself befuddled, and with no way to affect the situation, which is still quite a long way from the party.

The enemy, finally noticing that their numbers have dwindled, race toward the party, trying to get to them before any more major mishaps can befall them.

OOC:
I didn't get a response from Hamburg, but he doesn't have anything that will be effective at that range anyway.

The enemy are at 150 feet from the party as the next round starts, and I'll just keep the prior initiative order.  It's your turn, guys, since all they could do was run this last round.

Elboc sends an arrow at the nearest gnoll.

OOC:
20:47, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 16 using 1d20+1.  To hit (bow +1). – 16
That hits AC 1, unless there's a range penalty

OOC:
That does hit, and I'm going to need the damage it does.

Even at that distance, with help from the blessing, Lanliss shoots a long arc and makes a perfect shot in a charging gnoll's neck.

10:16, Today: Lanliss rolled 22,2 using d20+2,d6+1 ((20,1)).

OOC:
Lanliss, can I have you roll damage again, to add to the existing damage?  You rolled a natural 20, and I've got that down as a critical hit in the "Rules and Rulings" thread (post #4), for double damage (rolled twice, bonuses doubled).
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:22, Wed 15 Sept 2021.

10:23, Today: Lanliss rolled 5 using 1d6+2 ((3)).

The gnoll that Lanilss targeted drops, an arrow transfixing its next in exactly the wrong spot, from a gnoll's perspective.  Only three of the creatures remain, running toward the party.

OOC:
I still needs damage from Elboc, along with actions for Hamburg, Roak, and Elder Voran.

Roak keeps firing at the gnoll that he hit before...

I forgot to add Bless--hits AC -2 again for 7 hp damage!

11:34, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 6 using 1d6+1 with rolls of 5.  Damage! (add +1 for Bless)
11:34, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 18 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 16.  Shortbow on same gnoll he hit before.

Voran shouts at the gnolls, "FLEE OR BE DESTROYED," he says in a booming voice.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 68):

OOC:

Not sure how I forgot the damage from my shot.

22:00, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 4 using 1d6+1 ((3)).

The three remaining gnolls skid to a stop after Elboc and Roak drop another of their number.  They turn on their heels and break back the way they came, ignoring their two dead fellows, the one that is paralyzed, and all of the sleeping hyenas as they dash for the horizon.

OOC:
19:08, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 9 using 1d12.  Morale.

Elboc puts his bow away. "We should be on our way in case they bring friends back with them."

"Should we not dispatch these gnolls and their pets first? Or trust the desert sands to do it for us?"

Roak puts his bow back on his back. "I'm getting back to our caravan. Let the sand take 'em, I say." And he does just that!

Voran looks at the creatures. "If you want to put the animals down, that's fine. I will not condone actively killing a helpless sentient, even as savage a one as a gnoll."

He also rejoins the caravan.

Hamburg stood panting and sweating beneath his cheap robes and the odd mask he insisted on continuing to wear despite the obvious discomfort. The group had neutralized the attack so quickly and efficiently that the wizard was still sorting out what was taking place whilst his companions were returning weapons to their places of convenient carry.

"What are those creatures?" he asked, his voice raspy. It was one of the only times he'd spoken in the last several days. The gnolls and hyenas reminded him vaguely of blink dogs he'd once come across in the dark depths of his homeland of Cynidicea, only these looked much more feral and much more dangerous.

At the hem of his robes, there was a movement of some sort, no doubt the macabre dismembered hand which seemed to have been acting rather petulant of late.

Hamburg took several steps toward the paralyzed gnoll and its dead companions. The grim scene held no repugnance for the wizard, whose fascination with death and undeath was well known to the group. After a moment's hesitation, he knelt and placed his hand upon the sand. From beneath the mask came a slow and steady hissing sound with an odd cadence. Suddenly a shiny black scorpion emerged and swayed back and forth before him.

Casting Summon Vermin cantrip...

"Go see to that one, little friend..." Hamburg commanded the dangerous looking creature, pointing to the paralyzed gnoll. The scorpion's tail dipped in acknowledgement and it turned and skittered away.

Hamburg returned and joined his companions in rejoining the caravan. The ruby eyes of the stuffed raven wired to his shoulder glistened in the sunlight.

After Hamburg returns to the caravan it gets moving again.  No sign of pursuit shows up for the remainder of that day or those that follow it, and by the sixth day out of Xeriops the party find themselves following a thin but usable stream that flows down from the mountains.  The extremely sparse scrub and flowing sands have given way to still-sparse - but far more common and varied - scrub grasses and tough, gnarled bushes.  The Purple Mountains in the distance are no longer so distant, and the rolling dunes have been replaced by rolling foothills, which are beginning to get a bit steeper.

The party has passed two groups of well-armed merchants since the encounter with the gnolls, both heading south to Xeriops and points beyond.  The news that they bring is of a hazardous way, and one of the groups speaks of having driven off groups of bandits at least twice.  The other is a full day behind the first, and they speak of a roadway that they barely managed to pass, four or five days ago.  The road had partially collapsed and fallen down into a ravine, and two of their wagons were almost lost as they struggled to haul them past the slide.

Voran chats with these merchants at length, learning more about the land that they came from...

Elboc will inquire about alternative routes that miss the bad roadway.

The merchants are glad of some conversation after so many days on the road with only their immediate companions as conversational partners.  Both groups come from the mountainous region to the north, with the first hailing from softer, wetter valleys on the other side of the chain of mountains, and the second coming from mountainous pasture land not particularly far from here.  The region is full of a variety of small villages, with only a few larger settlements.  Regardless of their scarcity, those larger settlements are quite large, and universally located on the larger bodies of water in the region.

As is common in most areas, those who live further from highly settled areas tend to revere nature spirits and local demigods, but the gods of Law and Neutrality are well-represented in the few cities.

The caravan masters and guides say that they know of no other routes through with they could take their wagons, but also note that the party is mounted, with no wheeled conveyances, and that they might be able to find other routes through the area.  Both admit to a certain apprehension at the thought, one of the groups having been attacked by bandits, and the other having heard reports of such on an increasing basis over the last year.

Roak hangs back and listens to this information. There's a part of him that really wants to go bandit-hunting--but not at the cost of being able to get back to a city with their new fortune and live large for a while!

Voran, too, enjoys the conversation and thanks the merchants for the company and the news. Before the merchants leave, he offers his blessing to them.

Turning back to the others after the merchants move on, Voran says, "I recommend we stick to the roads. The fastest route is the best, here. We can just stop before any valleys or easy ambush spots and scout out the territory in advance to stave off any bandit ambushes."

"That makes sense. Let's move as fast as we can to get back to the security of civilisation."

Hamburg was often lost deep in his own thoughts. He'd been weaned from the psychedelic mushrooms for a while now, and seemed to finally be past the worst of the withdrawals. To say his world had expanded would be the grossest of understatements. Everything was new to him, like a child's first venture out the door, down the steps and into the yard.

"What sort of creatures are bandits again? I seem to remember reading of them, but my mind's been a little muddled lately. Aren't they huge shaggy creatures, beasts of burden or some such, ridden by desert nomads?"

"I'm content to trust the rest of you in your judgement. This is all like some... great adventure... to me..." His voice trailed off, thoughtful, as if something was occurring to him.

Voran pats Hamburg on the back. "When we speak of bandits, we speak of men, Hamburg. These are the type who hide in the wilderness and rob others."

He attempts to explain this further to the former underground-dweller as they continue their travel.

"Yes, yes, I remember now. Ambushes, questionable tattoos and ill-gotten gain. I do believe the bandit scenario would be quite enjoyable. It gets my vote!" Now plenty hydrated and under minimal withdrawal effects, the masked wizard still spoke in displaced and riddled tones.

Roak snorts as the group heads out. "Oh, goody! Hamburg the Bandit. That means I get to hunt you down and throw you in a prison cell, Hamburg, 'cos that's what I do. Hunt bandits. Or at least I was going to, until I got stuck in a freakin' pyramid."

The next three days are without major incident, although smaller predators and scavengers are seen several times.  The terrain has gotten steeper and more varied, often requiring that the party keep to what passes for a road, going around out-thrusts in the hills here, traveling through a valley there.  The guide has assured you all, repeatedly, that this is the correct route, but de does spend more time looking around at the surrounding terrain, obviously not entirely happy with the news of increased bandit activity.

About two hours before you would normally stop for the evening, the animals begin to act nervous, and the next turning of the path around the shoulder of a hill reveals a horrific sight.

One horse lays dead on the ground, its eyes wide and bloody foam caked around its nostrils.  It's still in its traces, and there's an obviously empty place for a second horse next to it.  The wagon behind it looks to have been dragged for at least a couple of hundred yards, with one wheel broken.  A lone humanoid figure is slumped in an inelegant pile, about fifty feet back from the wagon, a trio of arrow shafts sticking up at an angle from its side.

Elboc will scan the surrounding hills for sign of bandits. If he sees nothing, he'll make his way to the humanoid.

Roak nods to Elboc. "We've gotta do better than that. Let's go scout the hills. Together, starting with the left side."

Keeping the animas a bit back from the carnage, Roak--and anyone who will go with him--go to investigate the hills to the left.

Elboc scans around the area and finds no signs of other beings, aside from a couple of buzzards circling in the sky above.

Roak carefully makes his way up the dry hill to the left of the track.  The ground is hard and rocky, but there is adequate scrub of a particularly tough and gnarled character to keep him hidden almost as well as he would like.  After acquiring the crest of the small hill, he is able to survey the area.   The roadway, such as it is, cuts through low points between hills for quite some distance, twisting to match the terrain.  He loses sight of it a few times as it passes behind or around spurs here and there, but is able to make out its path for a good couple of miles.

No other creatures are moving that he can see, aside from the buzzards noted by Elboc.

Seeing no danger, Elboc will check on the humanoid. With the buzzards not landing, he or she may well still be alive.

Roak comes back and then goes up the other side, checking it out as well.

Elboc moves forward and finds that the body appears to be fairly recently dead, from the bright red color of the large amount of blood pooled around it.  After nudging it over, it is revealed to be a bearded male in rough and poorly-patched clothing.  The fletching on one of the two arrow shafts appears to be made of peacock feathers.  The man is unarmored.

Roak ascends the hill on the right side of the road and initially believes that this area is equally clear.  Just as he is preparing to move back down to the road, however, he catches what appears to be sunlight glinting off of metal in the distance, some couple of miles away, up the twisting path.

Hamburg walked over to stand next to Elboc, watching as the body was turned over an the blood revealed. The masked wizard gasped, "He's dead! He's truly dead! Those arrows are... real!" He seemed truly shocked and surprised, as if he'd never seen a dead body before... which was quite odd for someone dressed as - and previously claiming to be - a powerful necromancer!

There was a shuffle beneath the hem of his robe, the the skeletal hand didn't make so much as a peek.

Roak comes back down and debriefs the party on what he's found. "I say that some of us--Elboc, Voran, Hamburg, Lanliss--we go into the hills and ambush the ambushers. Everyone else stays here until we get back."

"Yes, he's dead," Elboc agrees with Hamburg. He also agrees with Roak's plan of action.

Hamburg shuddered and looked upwards to the sky, shielding the lenses of his mask a bit with one gloved hand to see the buzzards flying overhead. "So large. Will they... will they eat the man?"

He moved to stand nearer Elder Voran who seemed less disturbed by the grisly scene. "I-I suppose that's a good idea Roak."

Moving carefully and slowly, Roak and crew make their way toward where the other armed group had been spotted.  It takes long minutes to get into position, and as luck would have it, the other group is found to have moved in the interim.  They now occupy a narrow valley, and look to think themselves quite sneaky, approaching the site of the wrecked wagon in a very loose skirmish line, and not from the direction of the main road.

Our heroes manage to arrange themselves on opposite sides of the six poorly-equiped opponents, who make no move to show whether or not they have seen the deaths that await them.

OOC:
You guys have surprise.  There are six of them.  Take your attacks, then I'll roll for initiative.

Elboc holds up a hand and makes urgent gestures. Are we sure that they are the ambushers?

Voran flings what is effectively a warning shot at the would-be ambushers!

Fling of the sling and a miss.

16:58, Today: Elder Voran rolled 4 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 2.  Sling!

Roak fires a slightly more accurate shot at them...

Hits AC 4 for 2 hp damage.

17:02, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 2 using 1d6 with rolls of 2.  Damage.
17:02, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 13 using 1d20+1 with rolls of 12.  Shortbow on bandits.

OOC:
Roak and Elder Voran have attacked.  This might be the answer to Elboc's question.  I also need actions from Lanliss and Hamburg, even if it's to stop and stare in mute amazement.

Lanliss assists in a volley of arrow against the bandits. He is not used to the the rippling of heat in the air after being in underground for so long, which interferes with his aim.
15:45, Today: Lanliss rolled 4,4 using d20+1,d6 ((3,4)).

Seeing the others attack, Elboc also fires off a "warning" shot.

OOC:
21:26, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 8 using 1d20+1.  To hit (bow +1). – 8

Hamburg swallowed hard. His tongue seemed too large for his mouth and his gums were suddenly very dry. His hand reached into an empty pocket out of habit, just as he'd done thousands of times since leaving the city of Xeriops, but any traces of fungi were long ago consumed. He looked down upon the apparent bandits and realized the arrows and stones being flung at them originated from his companions! He looked down in surprise to see a silver dagger in his hand! How did that get there?

Suddenly Hamburg felt a pain in his shoulder as if it was being pierced! He beheld the stuffed raven and met the gaze of its sparkling ruby eyes...

~~~

"Attack you fool!" a voice boomed.

~~~

Hamburg felt the bird's talons dig further into his flesh and heard a powerful command blasting within his skull. He felt a bony digit pressing into the soft spot just above where his collar bones came together. He tore his gaze away from the stuffed raven and saw the skeletal hand like a giant spider upon his chest! A burning sensation then surged from his hand, upwards through the wrist and forearm. His lantern was glowing powerfully with its sickly, yellow-green light.

~~~

"Unleash your power!"

~~~

Hamburg lifted the lantern and pointed it in the direction of the half-dozen bandits. Words came to mind which he began to utter as the raven's grip became stronger still and the disembodied hand pressed dangerously at his throat. He gasped words which seemed to yearn for their escape...

The wagon burst into flame! The dead horse twitched and scrambled to its feet! The slain wagoneer stood and turned to face the bandits, a look of vengeance twisting his face!


Casting Phantasmal Force. to create the illusions above and hopefully distract or frighten the bandits!

Having taken damaged from an unexpected direction, while thinking themselves to have the advantage of the party, and being confronted by horrifying image of the burning wagon, horse, and driver, along with the movement of the supposedly dead pair, they group of bandits break and run, screaming!

OOC:
18:15, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d6.  Monsters' Initiative.
18:15, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 2 using 1d6.  Players' Initiative.

Parting shots, anyone?

Elboc sends an arrow far over their heads.

"That should keep them running."

OOC: 20:46, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 9 using 1d20+1 ((8)).

Now that the severity of the moment has reduced, Voran's nerves calm and he unerringly beans one of the fleeing bandits on the back!

Of course, now I get a natural 20 :-) 4 hp.

17:11, Today: Elder Voran rolled 4 using 1d4+2 with rolls of 2.  Damage!
17:10, Today: Elder Voran rolled 22 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 20.  Sling at fleeing bandit.

Roak lets them flee, saving his arrows for later.

Elder Voran manages to hit the bandit which Roak had previously injured, sending the dirty human to the ground, unmoving.  The rest of the group continue running for the hills, dropping their poorly-crafted, ill-maintained weapons in their frightened attempt to get away from the burning, yet-still-moving, carcasses.

Elboc will see if any of the bandits left behind are alive enough to answer questions.

Roak likewise goes to see the fallen bandits, seeing if any of them are alive to interrogate. He waves Voran over if he thinks the cleric can revive one.

Elboc and Roak move forward to check on the single bandit who didn't escape with the rest of the group.  His body is sprawled, face down, in the dirt, an arrow standing out of his back, and the back of his skull caved in by Elder Voran's sling stone.

It's quite obvious that he's beyond help, and making an account of his life before whichever divine or infernal power will receive him.

Elboc will search the body for anything interesting. If there isn't, he'll suggest moving on.

Hamburg was still gripped a moment longer by the raven and claw while his lantern flared and then sputtered out. He sank to his knees and gasped for air behind the strange mask he wore. His own gloved hand tore at his breast, but there was nothing there but cheap cloth.

Below, the horrific scene of the flaming wagon, the risen horse and driver... were instantly gone save for the latter giving Hamburg a slow and knowing nod before evaporating into nothingness.

After a moment of recovery, the Cynidicean got to his feet again and made his way toward the others where they were examining the would-be attacker.

Having little to say that would not evoke discussion he was not prepared to have, the wizard kept quiet.

As did the stuffed bird on his shoulder.

Elboc, Hamburg, and anyone else who care to, quickly finds that the man who fell as he fled from them is dressed in somewhat newer clothing than they would have expected, but more than a little ill-fitting.  His appearance is rough and unkempt, but his clothing is that of a moderately well-to-do merchant.  A small belt pouch at his side reveals the remains of some fairly crude food, no small amount of it crumbled, and there is no small amount of dirt and grease on the flap and closure of the pouch.  The clothing is also dirtier than most merchants would allow.

His weapon, laying beside him, is a crude and mangled length of metal that looks to have most recently been sharpened by scraping it against rocks.  It's poorly-fitting grip is roughly wrapped in some sort of rag.

Roak goes about collecting the rest of the bandits' "weapons," if they deserve to be called that, and brings them back to the caravan.

The party checks in with their hired guards to make sure everything is in order and then the caravan sets on its way!

Roak checks, locating two spears, one normal sword, and one shortsword, all in usable condition.  Nothing else of apparent value can be located.

The guards, guide, and droves are all still in good shape, with the guards on sharp lookout.  They are quite ready to be on their way.

Another day up the track and the crumbling path that was referenced is found.  It's wide enough for camels and horses to pass, but only just.  It's quite evident why the merchants with wagons had trouble with it.

Two long and boring days further on and the caravan pulls into a small village of just a couple of hundred people.  The locals readily identify the group and travelers and not bandits, lowering a variety of ranged weapons that they evidently keep readily to hand.

"Welcome to Arakat, my friends," one man calls out as he approaches our heroes.  "Are you here to trade, or simply to buy a place to stay for the night?"

Since the village doesn't appear to be a good place to trade their treasures or buy magic goods, Elboc suggests just staying overnight and inquiring about nearby larger settlements.

Voran strides forward, smiling. "Greetings! We are weary travelers in need of a place to stay and to refresh ourselves. Please show us the way, if you would be so kind," he adds, bowing deeply.

Arakat is obviously just a small farming enclave that has capitalized on their location on the major north-south trade router.  The man in question shows you all to surprisingly luxurious stables and lodging, and for the paltry sum of 10 pieces of gold, you soon find yourselves well-fed, bathed, and bedded down for the night.

As you prepare to depart, the locals all tell of the city of Khedia, about four days  to the north, speaking of the wonders of its markets, its size, and the fact that it is the southernmost trading city in the kingdom of Floreau.

Roak's eyes shine at the mention of a city. "Folks, that sounds like opportunity to me. Let's head that way."

He makes sure that his group of guards are good to sign on for a trip up to the big city.

After a night of chemically-deprived and nightmare fueled sleep, Hamburg joined his companions. He said nothing in front of the townsfolk, but would speak privately with his companions when the opportunity presented itself...

"I don't trust these people for some reason. They seem... I can't explain it. We should be careful we're not walking into another ambush nor that we be harrowed from the rear..."]

"Roak, perhaps you should scout ahead?" He said to the halfling. "Elboc, the rear?"

The wizard's new companionship with cognizance, due to a dearth of fungi, had introduced a creeping paranoia.

The guards, drovers, and guide are all quite willing to continue on, at standard rates.  Before departing, the townsfolk direct you to a deep well, a bit off-center in the middle of the village, to resupply yourselves.  You've watched them drawing from it throughout the morning, and it looks quite safe.

"I'll take the rear," agrees Elboc. He'll also have a look around for any other wells - he gets a bad feeling about this one.

Roak shrugs. "Front is fine for me. Let's go!"

An uncharacteristic thunderstorm is followed by a brief-yet-intense downpour, two days further down the road toward Khedia.  The party are drenched to the skin, as is your gear, as you could not find shelter.  The drovers and guide all advise you to stop early and make a fire to dry out key pieces of clothing, hours before you would normally stop in the evening.

It's amazing how flowers and new growth are visible the following morning, in a landscape that had been harsh and dry the day before.

A few days after that you find yourselves having climbed over a ridge and look down on the edge of cultivated fields.  The ridge appears to be part of the edge of a natural bowl, and the shelter provided has left its interior with far more moisture than the surrounding area.  The road winds down through the fields below you, and you can see barns, farmhouses, and what appears to be a larger cluster of buildings in the distance.  A haze in the air prevents getting a good look at objects further out than about a mile or two, but as you move on a small city is revealed to you.  There must easily be ten thousand people living here, and it could be quite a bit more.

Hamburg was continually enchanted by the nature and beauty of this exotic new world into which he'd been introduced by these strange companions. At one point, he'd gathered an entire armload of flowers. He tucked them into the creases of his mask, beneath the wired talons of his stuffed raven, and braided them into adornment for his lantern. He breathed their scent and, for the first time any of them could recall... laughed, true and sincere.

"Behold!" he exclaimed breathlessly as they finally arrived at the city. It was so different than his birthplace, though there were similarities. He could pick out homes, fields, and places of exchange of goods. These all existed in Cynidicea, but the perpetually fungus addled people there had little to no order like he observed here.

"We should see where the jewellers are. We might be able to exchange some of our coin for something more easily carried."

Voran nods. "I love that idea," he affirms. The party moves in toward the city and, once there, Voran begins asking about in a friendly fashion for a jeweler's shop.

OOC:
I hadn't planned role-play here, much.  You can find exchange services of all sorts here, and artisans of good quality.  Pretty much everything in the Basic and Expert books, in terms of mundane goods, are available here, and shops where you can exchange heavy coins for more portable wealth are equally in evidence.

Let me know what you want to do, we'll manage it behind the scenes, and we can get on to the next leg of our adventure.

The party, first and foremost, tries to find a way to convert almost all its coins to gems to allow the party to carry their own wealth without a caravan!

Local guides are quickly found, and several goldsmiths, silversmiths, and jewelers are found in the little town.  There are even certified trade gems, usable anywhere in the Kingdom of Floreau, available for purchase at face value, and exchangeable for face value all over.

Pieces of jewelry, gold neck chains of established weight for individual links, and silver ingots are all highly available here.

As they wandered about the city looking for merchants willing to trade with them, Hamburg took notice of a man showcasing a unique type of throwing weapon. Like a child at a fair, the wizard was drawn to the exhibition of such skill and accuracy. It wasn't long before he was digging through his pockets looking for whatever coinage he could muster in order to buy a bandoleer of purple-plumed steel darts! The vendor, seeing a willing customer, even threw in a set of silvered darts at, what he claimed to be, a tremendous discount! Hamburg was very pleased with himself, and having hardly any idea about the prices of goods and services in this strange overworld, he didn't even realized he'd likely been ripped off!

Darts 5sp each x 20 = 10gp
Darts (Silvered) 15gp x 3 = 45gp

Hamburg was feeling rather proud of the new improvements to his costume and was about to show them off to his companions when another thought crossed his mind...

"Would either of you allow me to copy spells from your spellbooks, I'm afraid I know very little of the sorts of magic you occasionally employ," he asked Elboc and Lanliss.

"Or perhaps we could ask around for a scroll or two, something we might all learn from..."

"Certainly," replies Elboc, "if I can copy from yours."

OOC:
Elboc knows all first level spells
At second level, he knows: Continual Light, Levitation, Invisibility, Knock

Roak appears a few minutes later wearing very, very shiny platemail armor. He looks very pleased with himself. He has also bought a few more belt pouches for carrying their new gems.

"So, where to, fellas? Further in toward civilization?"

Hamburg was thrilled to find a vendor selling talismans and similar accouterments for his costume. He cleaned out the stand and eagerly handed over a handful of coins that Elboc and Voran supplied to him. He then began to arrange them about his person, dangling and jingling and otherwise displayed rather conspicuously. He even draped one over his stuffed raven's neck, and after much coaxing, was able to coerce the skeletal hand to wear one!

Patting himself proudly, Hamburg announced he was ready to advance... whatever that meant.


OOC: Yep, buying them all!

41gp 2sp 4cp

As the party gears up, much lighter now that they have exchanged most of their heavier coins for more portable types of wealth, it becomes obvious that there are several roads which lead out from Khedia.

The main road north leads further up through the tangle of mountains, eventually leading to the capitol of the Kingdom of Floreau.  Two less-traveled, but still well maintained, roads lead north at western and eastern angles.  The western branch, or so the locals tell you, leads into a series of mountain valleys in which sheep and goats are grazed.  The eastern branch leads to a fortress which defends against monstrous incursions.

Roak scratches his chin as he considers.

What do we know about the Kingom of Floreau?

Hamburg wandered about the crossroads as he waited for his companions to make a decision. For him it mattered very little one way was as good as the other. It all promised adventure, discovery, and the chance to experience the new and wonderful things of this incredible overworld! Dangling from various parts of his body were the several talismans he'd purchased from a vendor in Khedia. He wondered if there might be any hidden messages in the area as were sometimes described in stories he'd heard, wanderers leaving wisdom as they traveled through an area...

The Kingdom of Floreau is mostly mountainous, with some larger forested areas in its northern and western reaches.  Most of its products are from farming of hardier livestock that can survive in these regions, hunting, some vegetable gardening, and wildcrafting of other foodstuffs.  Mining is limited, but there are some copper and silver mines.  Floreau is bordered on its southern and southeastern edges by The Great Desert, by wide and rolling plains on its northeastern and some of its northern edge, by further mountains and rolling forested hills to the north and northwest, and by arid scrubland to the west and southwest.

Much of the durable goods that involve metals in Floreau come from trade, as do most of the precious metals and gems.  Floreau is a favorite of reclusive wizards and religious orders that have trouble finding homes outside of remote areas.  Products made of wood, made by weaving, and which keep well through long and hard winters are their principle exports, and they have well-marked routes through the mountains and forests, which give traders from the lands around them access to the peoples beyond their borders.

Hamburg stopped momentarily and fished around beneath his robes. An observer might have thought the act could not get more bizarre, but then it could. The odd wizard pulled forth a skeletal hand, wriggling and seemingly defiant. Several times in got loose and then disappeared back under the hem of Hamburg's cheap vestments, but eventually he won out. He held it high and dropped it to the ground!

The hand landed less than gracefully, digits splaying in all directions... but not quite... for upon closer inspection Hamburg saw a pattern in the hand's impression made into the soft dirt.

"Eastward!" he declared to his companions.

Then he picked up the macabre appendage and allowed it to crawl back up his sleeve, "See, that wasn't so hard was it?"

Voran is intrigued by Hamburg's enthusiasm and enquires further about the fortress to the east.

The locals are able to tell Elder Voran that the fortress guards a narrow and rarely used mountain pass that separates Floreau from occasional raiders.  It isn't large, but it is quite well-placed to repel the forces which have thrown themselves at it over the decades.

"So the other side of the fortress is raiders? That doesn't sound ideal for a small group overburdened with riches. Are there any large cities around?"

After some asking around, Elboc learns that the central route eventually leads to Esbach, the capitol city of Floreau.

Voran nods. "That settles it, then. Let's head to Floreau."

Elboc agrees. Esbach sounds like a good destination.

Hamburg glanced over his shoulder at his hesitant companions. Seeing their gaze fixed upon the central path, he seemed to readjust his inner compass.  "Like I said, Eas-bac...ly."

He gathered his things and headed off in that direction.

OOC:
Action continues here.

Prior action here.

The members of the party slowly and groggily awaken to find themselves back in their camp, just one day's journey outside of Khedia.  There is no sign of the strange mansion and its encircling mists.

A quick check of bodies and equipment shows that all treasure taken between waking in that strange place and blacking out to come conscious back in camp is with you.

OOC:
You each get 2,275 XP for treasure taken and monsters defeated in your little interlude.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:17, Sat 25 Mar 2023.

Hamburg shook his bemasked head. Such experiences were not new to him wherein he suddenly found himself in a new reality or alter-reality such as the case might be. Since his departure from the city of his birth, and perhaps more significantly, the alteration of his diet, these lapses into strange realms had become less and less. This one had been particularly realistic, and his hands strayed to many pockets of his cheap robes in hopes of finding more fungi. Alas, every crumb and sore had been long-since consumed.

"Did I say Easterly? I meant Westerly, yes, that's what I meant... I'm sure of it. I think."

He gathered his things and headed off in that direction.

Voran sits up and blinks. "That was...novel..." he mutters to himself before gathering himself.

He rushes after Hamburg and ensures that he is on the road to Floreau, where the party was headed before!

Meanwhile, Roak triple-checks himself, cursing like a sailor. "Fragging black magic," he mutters over and over again, before leading the party toward Floreau.

The odd wizard had a spring in his step and a healthful exuberance about him as he strode in the direction indicated by Roak and Elder Voran. He seemed to be almost himself again, as if the nightmare of a ghostly encounter had never happened... The discordant notes he whistled beneath his strange mask would have been a pleasant hiking tune had they not been in a minor key...

OOC: Yay! Back to 4th Level!

Two more days of travel see the going getting steeper, and the vegetation getting more dense, if not more lush.  The area remains fairly dry, but small streams can be found more often, and flocks of sheep and herds of goats can be seen in the distance, on the slops of other hills.

After this, the road begins to descend again, and small watchtowers become visible, dotting the landscape all around.  The road enters a series of switchbacks, and as the party is preparing to settle in for the night it becomes obvious that their destination is at the bottom of the slope.

The city of Esbach, capital city of the Kingdom of Floreau, sits spread-out at the bottom of the slope, on the edge of a mountain lake.  It's still another day-and-a-half off, and it's impressive that the party can see it from this distance.

The wonderful world above ground continued to unfold before the goggled eyes of the odd cleric from the depths underground. Over very hill there was another, and yet another, framed by trees, crossed with streams in between and draped with skies full of clouds and sunshine, and at night stars... millions and millions of stars. Just walking along, looking around and seeing the countless things he'd only ever read about in the tattered books to be found in Cynedicea - which were few - was an adventure in itself! Hamburg was constantly fascinated by some new thing and, without constant monitoring by the rest of his party, would have wandered off, victim to his own curiosity.

His recovery from the mind-altering fungi of the deeps seemed to improve every day. The odd relapses wherein he would mutter strangely in the alternate personality from his days in which the party had found him, seemed to come only when he slept. During the daytime he was quite lucid. He insisted in wearing his odd costume garb without exception, rarely removing a glove for some delicate task, and never his mask or hood. The skeletal hand seemed to have withdrawn within the worn robes, apparently not much of a fan of sunlight.

The size of the city ahead impressed the wizard greatly. Having trouble dealing with distances in such an above-ground expanse, he could not comprehend how far away it still was, nor the true breadth of what they were looking for, but he was excited to see what he could. His anticipation grew by the hour as they drew nearer.

"What are the towers for?" he asked no one in particular. He could understand farms and suchlike as they traveled, but the outposts were baffling to him.

"They are watchtowers, for...watching. Usually for invading forces, though I have no idea if this land was invaded in recent history. As for the hills themselves, they almost seem alive..."

The humming and whistling seemed to make Lanliss wistful.

"Yes," Hamburg agreed with a similar tone of wistfulness. He could spend hours watching the birds, beasts and bugs of this strange world the others came from.

"Do such invasions happen frequently?" He asked. He was obviously an intelligent man, but he lacked understanding and comprehension and the wisdom to pull together what he'd read and deduced on his own into a reasonable paradigm.

"In Cynidecea we don't have invasions. The factions grate and quarrel with each other from time to time, but outside of the occasional incursion by subterranean horrors, things are peaceful there. Edifices like those towers would be as protection against something trying to hunt my people rather than from ourselves. I've read histories, ballads, and so forth, but I'll admit that the concept of war is quite difficult for me to consider."

Voran looks back at Hamburg. "May you never have to experience it first-hand. War is not pleasant, nor desirable."

Roak snorts, rolls his eyes, and says, "Come on, let's get into the city. I'm dying to sit in a tavern and have a pint of something strong for the first time in forever!"

He leads the party toward the city gate!

The descent from the initial camp takes slightly longer than a day and a half, and you find yourselves meeting armed and armored guards at the stone-and-brick blockhouses to either side of the gates into Esbach in the mid-afternoon, on your second day traveling down to it.

"Halt!  Identify yourselves and your business here!" one of the group of guards wearing better looking armor calls to you.  He's wearing chainmail armor and a peaked helm, both accented in gold here and there, and carries a metal-banded catchpole, as do many of the others with him.

The rest of the guards alternate between shortsword-buckler-and-shortbow and those armed with crossbows.  Most of the rest wear leather armor of fairly similar styles, but a couple of well-worn suits of chain.

There seemed to be a brief internal struggle behind the mask and within the robes of the strange wizard from the subterranean realm. It ended after a brief moment and he held up his battered lantern, its sickly green glow was as visible in daylight as it was in darkness.

"Hamburg... the... uh... We've come to see the wonders of your city and to relish in the riches to be found here!" It was honest, even though the introduction was halted with a bit of stammer.

"Is there some sort of entry fee?" Still wrapping his mind around the concept of wealth and exchange in the overworld, he fell back upon his knowledge obtained from books he'd read. Oft times attractions like fairs and parks required a payment or ticket for entry. To the oddly masked companion, the city was certainly a similar place of entertainment and exploration!

He fished out a gold coin to give to the guardsman.

"We are a small band of travellers, looking for a place to rest and eat after our travels. The fine reputation of your fair city has enticed us from afar, and we are eager to share our coin with your establishments."

It may well have sounded like fine words, and perhaps they were even meant (to some degree), but Lanliss knew from experience that common city guards could make life difficult for anyone if not treated with respect.

The man unceremoniously snatches the gold piece from Hamburg's hand, while cocking a critical eye at him and his companions, and perhaps a critical ear at their words.

"Fine.  Whatever.  Move along!" he demands, while gesturing the group through the entrance to the city.

Beyond the fortified blockhouse entrance, Esbach fairly bustles with people, wagons, and carts.  It seems that almost everyone in sight is going somewhere, and many of them are moving larger amounts of goods with them.  It's difficult to tell where they're going, as they all seem to be moving in different directions.

The main avenue zigs and zags as it passes through the city, with short guard towers on some of the inner corners, armed and armored men atop them.

Hamburg joined in with the crowd being carried as a log upon a slow-moving river of the busy masses. He was in danger of injury to his neck for all the looking about he was doing...

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he seemed to have thoughts about places of study and seats of power. But how was he to concentrate on such whispering within when a vibrant, bustling world was drawing him hither and yon?

"What shall we do first?" Spake he with all the giddy enthusiasm of a child attending his first country fair.

Voran's face beams as he finds himself finally surrounded by civilization. "Well, find an inn, of course!"

He proceeds to look for a merchant, a guardsman or some other similar person to ask for directions to an inn.

"An excellent notion! Surely this godforsaken hellho...I mean, this capital of culture...has an excellent vintage or two to slake the throat of a thirsty elf! And his companions, of course."

Surely, Lanliss thought, there would be an inn of quality this close to the entrance gate, rather than some seedy back-alley dive where they might lose their lives for the sake of a few coppers.

It takes but a moment's attention for Elder Voran to find what appears to be a wealthier merchant making his way quickly down the street.  His fine clothing is accessorized by the presence of an obvious guard trailing him, brass-studded cudgel at his waist, eyes scanning the crowd around them.

The man appears to be startled when suddenly approached by somewhat-rough-looking travelers regarding a higher quality inn, but waves the guard back upon noticing Elder Voran's holy symbol.

"Likely the best inn in town is The Peacock's Rest, about seven blocks up, just beyond the market, near the town square," he says, gesturing up a road that looks a bit wider than the others.  "Tell Cybele, the proprietress, that Hariman sent you, and you'll likely be given the option of rooms that overlook Turumya Park.  The views are quite stunning."

Hamburg was assuredly all about wonderful, breathtaking views. He thanked the man and then went with the party toward the Peacock.

"Wonder if we could take in a tournament or maze or something fun after dinner?" It was the child-like demeanor, so different than the one they'd originally met deep within the bowels of the desert pyramid.

"You are most kind, sir," offers Lanliss to the merchant, speaking before Voran. "We shall be sure to tell Cybele that you sang her praises most highly."

With that the elf led the way to the town square, and hopefully the market, then The Peacock's Rest would surely follow...

The group find themselves moving through a moderately-sized open air market, with all of the usual fare being hawked by vendors furiously trying to catch the attention of passers-by.  Some do this with displays of their wares, which is quite effective with examples of succulent fruits and vegetables or freshly-baked items.  Others do this with loud voices and colorful clothing.  Still others try to stop travelers by the sheer force of their presence, demanding that people stop and examine their offerings, shoving them into faces or attempting to lead others toward their stalls and carts.

It's more than a bit of figurative riot of people, sounds, colors, smells, and money changing hands, and while still in the midst of it the town square just barely becomes visible beyond.  The Peacock's Rest is easily identified by its gloriously-painted sign, showing a peacock with his tail fully fanned out, and accented by gold leaf on the edges of brilliant blues and greens.

It would have taken every bit of effort on the part of Hamburg's companions to drag the overwhelmed wizard through a maze far more wonderful and arguably more dangerous than the subterranean depths he'd come from. Thankfully the peacock placard came into view when it did, catching his attention utterly.

"Let's go there!" he said breathlessly. He was already taking steps against his restraining companions.

It was quite a sight to behold, the streets and markets of Esbach in full flow. All the colours of a rainbow and all the sights and smells one could imagine, most of them pleasant. Lanliss smiled easily while avoiding eye contact with anyone who approached him, being careful to look out for any surreptitious hands about his person.

As the town square suddenly appeared through the mass of bodies all around Lanliss did nothing to hold Hamburg back, being quite happy for the senses-overloaded strange wizard.

"Let us indeed," he offered, "And see what delights the Lady Cybele has for us."

Roak says, "This has to be a bad sign--all of you are actually making sense!" And then a big grin breaks out on his face. He leads the way into the building...

It still takes some long moments to get out the the market and into the town square, which isn't huge, but isn't tiny either.  Several stately buildings surround a small cluster of trees, greens, and fountains.  The latter are notable due to the still relatively arid location of the city of Esbach.

The Peacock's Rest is a building with a wide stair of native stone which leads up half the height of a man to its main floor, a broad covered porch surrounding the structure on all sides.  It's a mix of stone, dark wood, and gleamingly-white lime-washed infill.  Its striking presence is softened somewhat by accents in blues and greens, with the occasional bit of gold, or more likely brass.  The total effect is similar to the sign which announces it, but in a less strident way, and several people dressed in much finer clothing are taking their ease in cushioned chairs about the place.

The entrance is made of long strands of multicolored beads that appear to be heavy enough to keep out strong breezes, but still allow for the flow of air.

Just inside the party find themselves in a space that is predominantly painted in white, with narrow and beautiful bands of complicated patterns at the tops and bottoms of walls.  More strategically placed and comfortable chairs and divans are scattered about the place, and a grand internal staircase splits out to either side of an impressive front desk inlaid with find woods and semi-precious stones.

"How may I help you?" come the somewhat dubious question from a clerk behind the desk who is obviously unaccustomed to people who are quite as dirty as your little group.

"Greetings!" replied Lanliss with a warm smile and a bow of his head. "Please forgive the rather tired appearance of my friends and I, we had quite the journey to get here. We were told by a kind fellow named Hariman to ask for Cybele. If you would be so king, we would require some rooms, some baths, and some of your finest fare."

To emphasise his point but smiling politely all the same, Lanliss took five gold coins from his purse and slid them across the desk, clearly indicating they were for the clerk.

Hamburg nodded but said nothing, apparently overcome by the luxury of the place. He counted out five coins as well and slid them to Cybele. His understanding of money and economics had grown after spending time with these strange new companions of his, but he still was very vague about the customs and practices of monetary exchange. Following Lanliss's example seemed the best course of action and least likely to offend.

"Do you know of a good tailor, someone you could recommend?" Hamburg dared to ask the woman. "Or perhaps a clothier who sells quality robes or even leatherwork?"

The odd wizard's cheap costume had taken a great deal of wear and tear during their adventures since leaving Cynodicea, and they hadn't been that great to begin with. There were tears and tatters he'd tried to mend, but there are only so many times one can patch over patches. The soles of his boots were worn paper-thin, and his long leather gloves had begun to lose stitching. Even the stuffed raven wired to his shoulder looked as if it could use an thorough working over!

Beneath the frayed hem of his robes, there as a slight skittering sound, like nails tapping on stone... but the skeletal hand chose not to reveal itself.

At the combination of the gold on the counter and the mention of Hariman's name the clerk's face becomes a bit more welcoming.

"Cybele is otherwise occupied at the moment, but we'll definitely be getting the four of you baths and laundry services," he observes, reaching a hand up to gesture to a couple of attendants who had been standing around the perimeter of the room.

"These will take your bags and show you to rooms and baths.  How many rooms will you require?"

The attendants, dressed in finder clothing than most servants, step up quietly and hold their hands out, waiting for packs and gear.

Voran smiles broadly. "One room for each of us, if you may." He is visibly pleased with the prospect of a nice room!

Roak pipes up, "All rooms with locks, of course." He may or may not be aware of the gaucheness of this request, but he clearly doesn't care either way.

"Four rooms..." the man looks over something below the counter, "Very good.  We'll have to put you in the noble's wing.  That will run two pieces of gold per night...each...in advance..." he trails off with what sounds like a question in his voice, still looking slightly dubious.

Hamburg slapped the coins into the man's hand with a high degree of enthusiasm, and entirely no inclination to talk him down. "Noble wings? That sounds wonderful!" The strange mask hid the fact that his facial expression would show he had no idea what that meant.

The ruby eyes of the stuffed raven glistened, and though it did not move from the perch upon the wizard's shoulder - which the bird was wired to - in just the right light it might look as if it was smiling...

Voran produces the money and pays the fellow. "Show us the way, good man," he says, sounding his best to sound like a noble.

The man smoothly takes the proffered coins from each of the adventurers before him, seeming mildly surprised that the money was forthcoming, but he masks it well.

He gestures several servants over and they move to take the group's packs and lead them off to a well appointed bathing room which contains several tubs which are quickly being filled by other servants by the time our tired travelers get there.

The tubs are soon filled, and the servant stand ready to take clothing and whisk it away to be cleaned.

Hamburg seemed a little tentative in the room with the tubs. Whether it was shyness or just a lack of knowledge about what was customary, he seemed reluctant to disrobe.

"Was a clothier or tailor able to be found?" he asked the man holding the towels. (msg #185) This attire is all I have...

The fetishes, talismans, hand-stitched runery, and the odd skittering sound beneath the hem were just a few of the concerns the odd wizard would have to deal with if he were to give up his costume.

He set the dilapidated lantern by a bench and offered his arm to the stuffed raven on his shoulder. Of course the prop - which had certainly seen better days - was wired to the cloth of the outfit's shoulder, and it seemed to no interest whatsoever of leaving its perch. But then, in the next moment it was on the bench, sort of propped against the wall to be upright. No one saw it move, or saw Hamburg mess with the wires, it was almost as if it happened while everyone had simultaneously blinked!

The fake rubies that were the stuffed raven's eyes glowed red...

Hamburg removed one of his long gloves, revealing a thin arm with spindly fingers wrapped in tight skin that was so pale as to be nearly translucent. He tucked the glove beneath the hem of his robes and waited a moment, tapping one booted foot slightly. Suddenly, the glove emerged of it's own motation and scrambled, pulling itself behind the lantern!

The odd wizard continued to watch the others for clues as to how to proceed in a situation he was certainly unfamiliar with.

"I can have Master Umbrim send up a tailor to take measurements for some new attire, sir," the attendant responds, only reacting slightly at the unusual nature of the goings-on around the wizard.

"Will that be to your liking?"

"Uh... yes, that will do just fine, thank you." Hamburg said with a tinge of nervousness creeping into his voice.

He then sat on the bench and removed the other long glove, setting it next to then lantern which had a faint, sickly yellow glow. Hamburg the began to detach his various accouterments, placing them neatly beside him or in his satchel. His tall boots were next, and then his dilapidated hat.

It was becoming obvious he was stalling...

Not one for shyness or any concerns at all in this matter Lanliss immediately disrobed, revealing an atheltic, muscular physique that would be the envy of many (and not just elves). With a nonchalant smile he immediately stepped into one of the baths and lowered himself into the cleansing water.

"Ah! Just the tonic for a long journey. Now, if someone could provide some wine..."

One of the attendants quietly exits, then returns some minutes later with a bottle of wine and a glass, offering it to Lanliss.

"Will this be adequate, M'Lord?" he enquires, presenting what appears to be a recently-dusted bottle of a local vintage.

Lanliss considered the bottle for a moment, then smiled.

"There is only one way to find out! Open it please, and if you would be so kind pour me a glass."

The man swiftly removes the cork and pours a glass, which proves to be a dark, clear liquid that fills the air with scents of dried fruit.  The flavor is simultaneously dark, crisp, dry, and leaves a faint after-impression of sweetness and a sense of a cellar full of various ripened fruits, with some even more delicate floral notes.

Hamburg seemed momentarily stunned by the brash behavior of the elf, but then shrugged and began to remove the remainder of his clothing. The thin, emaciated, almost sickly looking body beneath the ragged costume was very, very pale. Veins both stood out and streaked his body with dark lines. He was entirely hairless and his fingernails and toenails were very pink. It was not albinism exactly, but having been born and raised in the deep beneath the sands.

He stepped into the tub slowly, enjoying every moment of the hot water as if it were a new experience for him.

He had removed his hat to reveal a bald head, the skin similarly pale, nearly translucent, but his odd mask remained in place.

"This... is... wonderful..." he sighed.

Voran stripped to his undergarments but then slipped into the bath. He waved the servant over and gave some instructions about washing the spare undergarments in his pack. He declined the beverage.

Roak stripped himself naked quickly, dove into one of the pools and surfaced, almost swimming-pool like, waving at the servant. "Human-sized pint of ale for when I'm done, thanks."

The party relaxes and cleans themselves as the water slowly cools, while the servants stand by impassively, filling requests for soaps, scented oils, towels, more hot water, and any additional beverages.

When finally preparing to exit the tubs, their freshly-cleaned and repaired clothing is made available, and a tailor waits quietly in the wings to take measurements, should he be needed.  Road's requested pint is swiftly brought forward as well, still somewhat cool from the establishment's cellar.

"A light dinner can be served in a private dining room at any point," one attendant notes to the four of you, "or we can arrange to have it brought out to you on the veranda."

"A private dining room would be most welcome. We look forward to sampling your fine fare."

Lanliss knows he smells better than he - or anyone else - has in months, and he takes time to dry and dress, all the while enjoying some more of the wine. A private room might be better for Hamburg, but the elf did not mind in any event.

The odd wizard luxuriated in the hot water until his nearly translucent skin began to pucker and wrinkle. Eventually he motioned the man carrying bucket after bucket that he'd finally finished. He indicated that private dining would be appreciated at Lanliss's suggestion. Finally, with reluctance, he exited the bath and wrapped himself in a wonderfully soft robe. He felt the fabric as if he'd never seen anything like it. This was a city full of such experiences for Hamburg.

Propped on the bench, not far away, the stuffed raven awaited the wizard's return. Its ruby eyes glowed softly...

He went with the tailor then to a side room and began to describe what it was he would like made. The details were concise and intricate. He insisted on quality of materials and craftsmanship. He even went so far as to request a new mask be made in similar fashion to the one he was still wearing. When he protested at removing it, the tailor made the suggestion of using one of the linen shirts as a temporary mask. Hamburg relented and when the tailor had cleverly made the necessary adjustments to the shirt, Hamburg turned away and swapped masks. The narrow slits made for his eyes seemed to make it nearly impossible to see through, but even so, he held a hand up almost continually to shade his eyes.

The tailor was instructed to begin immediately. In the meantime, Hamburg dressed in the clothing that was brought for him. The raiment hung loosely from his nearly emaciated form, but felt comfortable. He joined the others for dinner, his appearance now looking more of a dark assassin than a terrible necromancer.

"Well friends," he said, tasting the word behind the cloth he wore over his face, "that was perhaps the highlight of luxury. There are hotsprings in Cynidecea of course, but they often smell of sulfur and are harmful to the skin. I can't imagine that we'll top that!"

Roak stays in the tub a long, long time, finally drying and dressing quickly. He then starts giving instructions about dinner, as, being a halfling, he has a number of notions about how that should be done properly.

Upon hearing of Roak's instructions regarding the upcoming meal, servants scramble to accommodate, altering both the composition and quantity of food, sending runners to inform the kitchen staff of the alterations.

The last of the servants is withdrawing from the private dining room just as the party enters.  It seems that there is more food on the table than four people could easily eat, and serving vessels filled with various drinks stand on sideboards, their sides glistening with condensation due to their chilled contents.

This is no light repast.  There are various fresh fruits and cheeses, to be sure, along with slivered meats, both freshly cooked, and otherwise dried or preserved.  In addition, there are at least two wholly different types of salads, three sorts of hot fresh bread, one cold flatbread, several whole roasted gamebirds, some sort of roasted red meat, steaming root vegetables and tubers, and three different desserts.

New servants in finer clothing usher the party into the room, hold chairs out for them, and work to see them seated at the table, then inquire regarding their preferences for beverages.

Roak orders ale and dives quickly into the food, eating his full, especially of the richer items like the meats.

Voran chooses the mead and eats less than Roak, but well.

He pulls a servant aside. "When we are done, I wish for you to distribute this to other guests who do not have as fine a repast, at no cost to them, please."

The servant nods in acknowledgement of Elder Voran's instructions, saying, "It shall be as you say, Your Grace."  It is unclear whether the man is attempting to flatter the cleric, or if he just isn't aware of the Church hierarchy, but he seems to be quite ready to follow the instructions given.

The remainder of the evening is quite pleasant, and the rooms are clean and tidy, with furnishings the like of which most of the group have not seen in some time, and which one of them might never have seen.

OOC:
How long do you guys see yourselves staying here?  I lay out a town adventure, you can go shopping, or I can drop some leads for nearby investigations.  Do you plan to make this city a base of operations, stay for a while before continuing your journey, or resupply and head out fairly soon?

Voran's recommendation is that the party use this town as a base of operations and that they look for dungeons to investigate in the environs.

Lanliss eats well although to a degree that some might consider light, though perhaps not for an elf. He is in full accord with Voran's thoughts on the excess food and on the town as a base for future operations.

"If we can eat this well and live in such fine style, I see no need to lower our expectations elsewhere."

Hamburg attacked the food provided them with a methodical and thorough vengeance. He especially seemed to relish the mushroom sauce on one of the meat platters. He deliberately picked the mushrooms out of the salads and filled his plate with them. It might have seemed strange to his companions that one so frail and slight could put away such an amount of food, but he kept pace and plate after plate was consumed.

"There seem to be plenty of opportunities in a place like this! I truly don't know where to start!"

He grew oddly quiet for a moment.

And then he began to laugh deeply, disturbingly, from beneath his mask.

"Such knowledge to be unearthed... wouldn't you agree Creeth?"

The stuffed raven said nothing, but its ruby eyes seemed to glow softly.

The remainder of the evening passes pleasantly enough, and the party rest easily in their beds, feeling the comfort of matress and blanket, uninterrupted by nighttime scavengers.

The following day yields news of several sites in the area which the locals avoid, either due to haunting or occupation by monsters and/or bandits.  There are also rumors of lost treasures in the area, but some seem more likely to be legend with no fact behind them.

Others, though...

A leisurely stroll, in clean and repaired (or entirely replaced) clothing, through the nicer parts of the city soon has the group looking at "WANTED" posters, listing no small number of local miscreants and low-lifes, plus at least three obviously notorious wild animals, with rewards running from a small number of silver pieces for sheep-nabbers, to hundreds of pieces of gold for a bugbear with a taste for humanoid flesh.

"Well, given the lifestyle we have recently become accustomed to, I'd say we're looking more for rewards for bugbears than sheep-nabbers. The local constabulary can handle the latter. What does everyone think?"

Voran nods. "Investigations of such would seem to be in line with our skills and desired rewards, yes."

Roak holds up his hand. "Hold on, hold on. Who among us thinks that we're a bunch of investigators? I mean, what do we know about tracking anyone down?

"I vote for investigating the sites. We're dungeon crawlers, we are."

After looking over the offerings again, our party of adventurers come up with several distinct possibilities:

• A small local farmcroft next to an abandoned mine.  The residents left it after "ghosts" started coming up from the mouth of the mine, several months ago.
• A ruined fortress, about a day-and-a-half away.  It's been seen at a distance, and investigated during daylight hours, but no one who has been inside of it after sunset has been heard from again, and no remains have been found.
• The bugbear has a reward of 800 pieces of gold on its head for proof of death.
• Travelers have been harried and robbed on the smaller of the two north roads, and the bandits have always disappeared into the hills before the local militia could get to them.  1200 pieces of gold are offered, including salvage rights, upon proof of death.  Salvage is available immediately, but the 1200 pieces of gold are to be paid in 200 gp monthly installments, which will only be payable if no further robberies occur before the payout is complete.
• A system of caves seems to be the source of monstrous attacks on some crofters in the west.  No reward is listed.

Roak squints at the options and says, "I say we go to the caves. What do you all think?"

Lanliss thinks carefully for a moment or two, but nods in agreement.

"The caves are as good an option as any."

Voran sighs. "Very well. Should we purchase some spelunking supplies before we head to caves, then?"

Hamburg had changed...

Not only his costume, for now he wore the fine black robes he'd commissioned tailored for him, as well as a new hat with a wide brim and a deep burgundy plume from an exotic bird, new thigh-high leather boots of soft and supple hide, even his lantern had been cleaned and polished to the point that its sickly greenish glow was slightly warmer and stronger for not having to shine through a layer of filth. Hamburg's odd mask had been duplicated by a master leatherworker and was even more sinister than the previous one which had been quite crude in comparison. Odd symbols and fetishes dangled here and there from the burgundy sash at Hamburg's waist. The only part of the odd wizard's trappings which had not been replaced or made over was the stuffed raven which had taken its customary place upon his shoulder.

It's ruby eyes seemed to glow stronger than they had since leaving the desert...

What had changed more than the outwardly visible, was the posture and poise of the strange arcanist. He appeared almost predatory, gone was the wonder at the big city, rather lost was the awe, present was a sense of expectation. He had calmed in some ways, though seemed acutely aware in others.

His pouches and pockets bulged with... something... he would fish out from time to time and pop into his mouth beneath his mask.

"I should consider discovery of lost lore and the reclamation of forgotten artifacts to be of highest import!" he said to his gathered companions. "If these caverns purport to harbor such, then I am certainly at home in such places. My instincts tell me that what we seek should most likely be found in the abandoned fortress! Needless to say, reports of ghosts do not cause me even the slightest concern... What have you to say Creeth?"

The stuffed raven said nothing, of course, but Hamburg nodded as if in response.

Beneath the pristine, midnight hem of Hamburg's robes, the disembodied skeletal hand skittered playfully, peeking a digit or two into the light like a macabre game of peek-a-boo.

Consultation with the locals produces names and locations of sellers of rope and other climbing gear.  The rope available is almost exclusively of the hempen variety, but one of the vendors does have a long coil of rope made of silk.  If questioned, he explains that it had been a special order from a minor noble some years ago, and that the man never came to pick it up.  He has 200 feet of it in a single length, and it weighs a mere two pounds.  He's willing to part with it for 50 pieces of gold.

Grapnels are available for 25 pieces of gold, hammers for two, and a dozen iron spikes for one.

Roak makes sure that each member of the party has rope and a grapnel. He takes ten iron spikes, being strong enough to carry them; he makes sure Hamburg gets the silk rope.

They also inquire about any kind of lighting besides torches.

Candles, open oil lamps, and no small number of enclosed lanterns are readily available, along with oil for those light sources which require it.  Torches are available in abundance.

Roak buys a covered lantern and about 10 vials of oil.

OOC:
Does anyone else want to buy any gear before you set out?

OOC: Lanliss already has rope and a grappling hook, so I'm good.

After spending some days in town assembling wagons, drivers, some guards, and a quartermaster/cook, the party meets in the square outside of the Peacock's Rest, having settled their bill there to the tune of an additional 50 pieces of gold.  The proprietress, Cybele, sees you all off, thanking you for your patronage, and giving well wishes for your safe journey and swift return.

Both well-laden wagons, both drivers, all three armed and armored guards, and the quartermaster Esmerelda are ready for the trip to the west, to inspect the caves near the site of the recent depredations on the holdings of the crofters there.

Roak gathers the group, looking for all his part like a captain of a troop.

"All right everyone, let's get ourselves on the road!"

Voran steps in front of the group and offers a benediction to the travelers before they depart!

Awaiting the reactions of the others before we proceed!

"Did we forget anything?" asks Lanliss, in jest, eyeing the considerable entourage they are now bringing along with them. For all his humor the elf is ready for adventure.

The journey out of Esbach doesn't take particularly long, but it is more than an hour before the city can no longer be seen behind the group as they travel to the west, along paths that are significantly less well-traveled than those which brought them to the city.  Three days' time bumping and jouncing over ever-worse roads finally has the party pulling up in front of a low rock face, where a local crofter directed them when asking about the caves which have been the source of monstrous attacks.

Night will have fallen in the next couple of hours, and the hired guards are a bit nervous about the idea of making camp so close to the source of violent incursions in the area.

Hamburg rode along, often looking back over his shoulder at the huge city sprawl growing ever smaller behind them. It had certainly been the highlight of his life to experience the many sights, smells, wonders and mayhem of city life. He was now regaled in an entirely new costume, one which certainly did not appear to be a costume as had his previous garb.

The odd wizard seemed eager to reach their destination and begin the delve. There was a part of him that had missed the stygian depths and the stale air of deep underground chambers. He was also eager to explore new places and continue honing his magical craft.

"It's all darkness below, is it not? The day is a surface world phenomenon. The sooner we get started the better!"

The stuffed raven wired to his shoulder, a macabre prop to be sure, said nothing of course, though it might have seemed odd to the new hires that Hamburg often spoke to it. The rubies it had for eyes did tend to glow oddly from time to time... or perhaps that was just a trick of the light.

As the others made plans for where and how to camp, Hamburg gave the rocky area a cursory examination.

OOC: Any tracks, trails, runes, warning signs, dreamcatchers, or souvenir stands out front?

Roak stops the group and turns to his companions. "Let's backtrack a few miles away, then make camp. We can tackle this in the morning after we've had a good rest."

The group backs off a small handful of miles and makes camp, having just enough light left to do so without rushing, and to get a hot meal in the process.

Night passes without apparent incident, with the guards taking turns on watch throughout the night, but the morning reveals an unexpected and disturbing sight: the guards killed a large, long-legged, scabrous rodent the size of a mid-sized dog.  They report that it had been nosing around the edges of the camp, about 150 yards out, and the one on watch had managed to kill it cleanly with a single arrow, due to a fortuitous shaft of moonlight illuminating it.

The creature looks to have mange or similar, and none of you are familiar with anything quite like it.

Hamburg, eager as ever, and driven by the opportunity to be back underground and exploring, had prepared for the day by meticulously cleaning and arranging his new garb. From head to toe he'd remade himself, retaining the style of his old costume, but now in the finest cloth, leather and craftsmanship his money could buy. Even the bedraggled stuffed raven wired to his shoulder seemed to have been touched up.

The odd wizard approached the dead creature and began to examine it carefully. Instead of touching it himself, he employed the use of a macabre, disembodied, skeletal hand which skittered over the corpse like a huge spider composed of bleached bones. He examined the teeth, feet and anything else that might give them clues as to the origin and state of the wretched thing.

"That was quite a shot," he said to the archer, tipping him a handful of silver pieces. "Are you quite certain it was alone?"

"From the simple fact one alone has been slain and no others, I would guess that it was unaccompanied. But given the filthy state of the creature, and the reports we have had of vicious beasts emanating from the caves, we must surmise that our task ahead is fraught with danger. Hardly news I know, but we should tread carefully none the less."

There was little else to do in Lanliss' mind, other than get on with matters.

Voran also examined the creature from a distance. "Be wary. I cannot cure diseases yet, so limit your contact with the things."

Roak grunts, hefts his sword and says, "Let's go."

He defers to Lanliss to lead the way, given the elf's infravision.

Onwards and downwards!
This message was last edited by the player at 00:29, Thu 29 Feb.

The camp is secured, and the body of the creature dragged off several dozen yards and buried, at least shallowly.  Provisions and water, along with other gear, are stowed, and one of the guards stays with the drivers and quartermaster, beside the wagons, as you proceed up the meager little track toward the rock face.

Upon arrival you find the marks of regular traffic in and out of the area, but the ground is rocky enough that it's impossible to get clear prints.  A bit further out you see tracks of several animals with which you are familiar, and a few which you are not.

The mouth of the cave is small and tight, only a couple of feet across, but high enough that all but Roak only have to bend down a bit to enter.  The opening into the rock face quickly bends down, and appears to be a slight widening in a natural seam in the rock.  Foul odors faintly waft past you on a cool and moist breeze.

Hamburg lifted his newly refurbished lantern and crept into the mouth of the cavern. The sickly green light was the same as it had always been, and it cast eerie shadows about. He held it aloft and breathed in the cavern air, a smile on the face beneath the odd Cynidicean mask. He waited patiently for his companions to enter, petting the stuffed raven on his shoulder absently.

With an easy manner Lanliss crouched slightly and made his way into the cavern, taking the lead as requested. The sickly green light from Hamburg's lantern obscured his infravision somewhat, but not as bad as a normal lantern or torch might have done. The elf trod carefully, keeping an eye out for tripwires or traps as best he could - and for any fiendish beast ready to jump out at him, for that matter.

Voran follows Hamburg, keeping his eyes peeled.

Roak brings up the rear.

The natural seam in the rock twists and turns, but still allows careful passage, although it requires that hands be placed on the walls here and there to continue to move forward without resorting to crawling.  After some 30 or 40 feet it opens into an irregularly-shaped cavern that defies your ability to get a sense of its size.  Most of its walls are well beyond the range of Hamburg's meager lantern.  While the light from the lantern fouls the elf's eyes somewhat, Lanliss can still see a multitude of small, warm bodies above him, likely clinging to the ceiling.

The stench is much worse in this place, and there is an animal muskiness that adds itself to the sharp and disagreeable smell the party has been dealing with.

Roak and Elder Voran emerge into the space, and the halfling soon realizes that there is what appears to be a faint path worn through the rubble on the uneven floor, and that it appears to split several ways, just at the limit of his vision.

Fearing bats (or worse) overhead, Lanliss tries to communicate with hand signals as to their next move. He points to the faint path, indicating they should take that, but waits to see if anyone prefers any particular split in it to follow.

Roak leans around the others to give the thumb's up indicator that he agrees with the elf.

Hamburg notices Lanliss' gesturing and seems confused for a moment as he raises his sickly green lantern up high and squints at the ceiling.  His puzzled gaze returns to the elf before comprehension dawns on a face totally concealed from his fellows.  He makes exaggerated "walking-slowly-and-quietly" motions as he starts to laboriously move to the path.

OOC:
NPC'ed
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:19, Sat 09 Mar.

The faint path winds between scatterings of stone and upthrusts in the uneven cavern, past mounds of odoriferous guano, and around piles of scree and detritus.  Careful attention to the path keeps the group from making any mis-steps, keeping their passage quiet and without any fouling of their footwear.

Several long minutes of careful travel bring them beyond the first cavern, and the ceiling becomes lower, with the walls pulling in.  Just as there is some concern that this might not actually be a path, and that the cavern just narrows to impassibility, a crude stone arch in the far wall comes into view at the limit of the party's light, appearing to be at the end of the path.

Just for a moment, Roak's keen eyes catch twin flashes, just a couple of inches apart, and just about on the level of where his head would be, beyond the arch.  He quickly glances away and back, but is unable to see the glimmers again.

Roak moves to the others, pulling having them lean in. "I saw two flashes of light, from over there, about my height," he says quietly. "I think they were eyes reflecting light. Lanliss, can you fire an arrow over there to see if we can flush whatever it is out?"

"With pleasure," remarks the elf, drawing his bow and immediately letting an arrow fly to the spot where a hobbit might have stood in the darkness of the arch. And a fine shot it is too.


14:46, Today: Lanliss rolled 20 using 1d20+1.  attack roll, longbow.
14:46, Today: Lanliss rolled 1 using 1d6.  dmg.

A high-pitched cry of pain in the distance is followed by enraged yowling, and a creature launches itself out of the darkened archway.  It travels on four feet, moving fast, patchy fur interspersed with areas of pale flesh that is riddled with weeping sores, and leads with sharp and ratlike teeth bared.  A second creature is just a few yards behind the first, but doesn't have an arrow sticking out of it like the lead animal.  Shouts in a high, rasping language come from the archway, and it sounds like a plurality of speaking creatures are excitedly calling out to one another.  Multiple sets of reddish eyes appear inside of the arch, reflected in the dim light.

OOC:
You guys have initiative.  I'm going to discard the BECMI initiative and just have you guys take turns with me.  Lanliss got the first shot in, in a surprise round, and there's quite a bit of distance between you and the archway, so you'll have another round of missile attacks available to you before the quadrupeds get to you, and first strike when they do get there.

"Looks like Hamburg's family and pets are here!"

Lanliss switched immediately from jokery to casting his Sleep spell upon the space beneath the archway.

Cast Sleep.

Voran's eyes go wide and he raises his holy symbol, uttering an intercession that wraps the group.

Cast Bless, giving everyone in the party +1 to hit, +1 to damage and +1 to morale for 6 turns.

Roak chortles and, picking his target, fires his bow...

Fire short bow at a creature that remains standing after Sleep, preferably an injured creature. Hits AC 2 (note: I forgot to add +1 for Bless, so total should really be 15) for 4 hp nonmagical damage.

17:21, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 4 using 1d6+1.  Damage. – 4
17:20, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 14 using 1d20+2.  Short bow, preferably on damaged creature. – 14

Hamburg raised his lantern with one gloved hand in order to cast just a little more light on the foes they now faced. His other hand reached forward, palm upward as if waiting for something to be placed in it. He didn't wait long. The disembodied hand, skeletal in form, which frequented his person, skittered off his shoulder. It dragged with it a dart from the quiver at the odd wizard's back. This dart was perhaps the length of Hamburg's forearm from fingertip to elbow, weighted slightly with a heavy point, and fletched with black feathers. He'd had them custom made for him prior to their departure upon this new outing.

With a quick flick of his wrist, Hamburg sent the dart hurtling toward his foes, even as the pull of his magic began to tug at the edges of his mind.


Dart Attack: Hamburg rolled 4 to miss!

The distant sound of several bodies collapsing, presumably, is masked by the noise of the two charging quadrupedal creatures.  Roak drops an arrow into the one in the lead, which Lanliss had previously struck, and while it stumbles and yelps in pain, it keeps coming on, as does its companion, and both will be in range to bite and savage the party very soon.

A cry of alarm comes from the archway, and an arrow flashes back toward the group, and Hamburg's lantern, cutting through it and causing the weird wizard to drop it, its light going out.  Hamburg and Elder Voran suddenly find themselves unable to see in the darkness.


OOC:
08:53, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3,4,7,19 using 1d20,1d20,1d20,1d20 - Save vs. Spell.
10:24, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 12,6 using 1d20,1d6.  Attack, Damage vs. Hamburg's lantern.

Alright, guys.  They'll get to you this round, but you have initiative.

Roak shouts, "VORAN! GRAB THE LANTERN AND OIL FROM MY PACK!"

Having no issues with the dark Lanliss steps to the fore with sword and shield up, ready to meet the attack. Anything that came close would soon regret their decision.

21:50, Today: Lanliss rolled 13 using 1d20+4.  attack roll, sword.
21:57, Today: Lanliss rolled 10 using 1d8+4.  dmg.

Were it not for the strange mask Hamburg perpetually wore, as well as the darkness they suddenly found themselves within, the party members might have seen Hamburg's jaw drop nearly to the floor. He stood stunned for a few brief moments...

"Fell sorcery Creeth! Dangerous! What foe has the power to snuff the light of an eternal flame?" Hamburg seemed to be consulting himself and the stuffed raven wired to his shoulder. The raven said nothing of course, though its ruby eyes seemed to glow ever so faintly in the gloom.

In a rush, the odd wizard picked the lantern off the floor and began shouting arcane and eldritch words of power at it. He seemed to grow increasingly frustrated that the sickly green light did not immediately burst back into existence. He was about to throw it at the oncoming attackers, but paused.

"Yes! Yes, that is correct my pet, sinister sorcery might have snuffed the magical manifestation of illumination, but a conventional flame might still work!"

Hamburg knelt and began fussing with flint and steel to get the lantern re-lit!


Taking turn to relight the lantern!

Lanliss' blade takes the throat and part of the jaw out of the lead quadruped, and it falls both heavily and wetly, no longer moving.  The second, however, is hot on its heels and leaps to bite at the elf, slipping in its compatriot's blood and deeply failing to connect.

Another arrow flies out of the dark, from the direction of the archway, and high-pitched, harsh shouting is heard from what is probably a single voice.  The arrow misses Elder Voran by a wide margin.

As Hamburg struggles, he finally manages to get his lantern lit again, the small spark from the flint leaping to the tattered wick, and the sickly little flame coming to life again with far less effort than it should have taken.

OOC:
07:13, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5,6 using 1d20,1d6.  Attack, Damage vs. Lanliss.
07:14, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5,6 using 1d20,1d6.  Attack, Damage vs. Elder Voran.

The dead quadruped's blood seemed to be everywhere, and now it was Lanliss' turn to slip in it as he tried to fend off the other creature.

16:09, Today: Lanliss rolled 7 using 1d20+4 ((3)).

Seeing this, Voran shakes his head in disagreement with Roak. He pulls out his sling and flings a stone at the charging beasts...

Attack with sling; hits ac 7 (forgot to add +1 for Bless, ironically). If that miraculously hits, does 6 damage.

22:14, Today: Elder Voran rolled 6 using 1d4+2.  Damage, just in case. – 6
22:13, Today: Elder Voran rolled 9 using 1d20+3.  Sling on wounded beast. – 9

Roak snorts. He drops his bow and, drawing his blade, steps forward to meet the foes...

Attack a dog-thing with longsword. I forgot  to add Bless again. Hits AC 1 for 4 damage.

22:16, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 4 using 1d8+3.  Damage. – 4
22:15, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 15 using 1d20+3.  Attack on beast. – 15

Hamburg lifted the lantern high, inspecting it as the creatures rushed towards them. With a sigh of satisfaction, he pulled a dart from the quiver at his back and threw it with an awkward overhand cast. It was clear he'd only recently begun to practice the technique...

Dart attack: Hamburg Hartclimber rolled 13 to hit AC6 for 2 damage.

Lanliss and Elder Voran both fail to connect with the one remaining doglike creature, but Roak cuts into it in the confusion of the melee.  The creature snarls and snaps at the halfling, but cannot find an opening past Roak's defenses.

Another arrow flies weakly out of the darkness, accompanied by a sharp, hollow, twanging sound.  The harsh, angry voice in the distance is getting more agitated, and you hear footsteps rapidly moving toward you.

OOC:
07:09, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 10,6 using 1d20,1d6.
07:10, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 1,2 using 1d20,1d6.

Steadying himself on the treacherous ground Lanliss aimed another swipe at the quadruped, but he had to dodge an arrow at the last second and his sword slid harmlessly by.

16:17, Today: Lanliss rolled 8 using 1d20+4 ()).

Sickly green light painted a frightening picture as Lanliss swiped away at the ferocious creature. Hamburg pulled another dart free of his quiver and tried to time the attack. His arm, growing weary already from the physical exertion, faltered as he made his cast. A rather frustrated sound escaped the confines of his mask.

Dart Attack: Hamburg Hartclimber rolled 8 to miss!

Voran can't seem to get the hang of his aim and flings another stone well above the attacker.

AC 9. :-(

22:45, Today: Elder Voran rolled 8 using 1d20+4.  Another Sling Stone (adding Bless). – 8

Roak continues his hopping around, aiming another slash at the foe.

Hits AC 4 for 5 hp.

22:46, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 5 using 1d8+4.  Damage. – 5
22:46, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 13 using 1d20+4.  Melee attack on dog-thing w/Bless. – 13

Everyone except for Roak misses over the next several seconds, but the halfling scores a deep cut through the second dog-like creature's bowels.  Innards are starting to slip out, but the thing lunges and snaps at Roak even so, continuing to fail to find an opening in his defense.

A single goblin comes racing out of the darkness, from the direction of the archway, brandishing a small sword.  The path is winding and the footing is treacherous, so you all catch sight of him a bit before he manages to close to melee range.

OOC:
11:17, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3,1 using 1d20,1d6.  Attack, Damage

You'll get initiative over him for one more round, but if you don't manage to  kill him, he'll be attacking at the end of this next round.

Seeing the goblin headed his way, Voran wheels and flings a stone that catches the goblin straight in the face! "That's more like it!" he says under his breath.

Natural 20! That hits AC -7, for the record. :-) Does 4 hp damage.

14:50, Today: Elder Voran rolled 4 using 1d4+3.  Damage. – 4
14:50, Today: Elder Voran rolled 24 using 1d20+4.  Sling on incoming goblin. – 24

Roak, smirking as he dodges, whirls and aims for the dog-thing's wound, scoring an easy hit...

Good grief--exact same rolls. Lovely dicebot. Natural 20, hitting AC -7, for 5 hp.

14:52, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 5 using 1d8+4. – 5
14:52, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 24 using 1d20+4.  Attack the dog-thing. – 24

OOC:
According to the rules & rulings, when you get a natural 20, you roll damage twice (including bonuses) and add both results:

link to a message in this game

Give me another damage roll each, on top of what you already rolled.

The odd wizard reached out his gloved hand once more. The skeletal appendage grasped a dart from the quiver at his back and dragged it quickly into place. Hamburg cocked his arm and aimed carefully. After several long moments, the shaft hissed toward the target! A very satisfying SHHHHHUUCK! sound let him know his throw had been successful!

Nat 20 hits AC-1 for 7 damage! Three in a row!!!
Hamburg Hartclimber rolled 21,2 using d20+1,d4+1 ((20,1)).
Hamburg Hartclimber rolled 5 using 1d4+1 ((4)).

Voran's total damage is 10, then. 21:51, Today: Elder Voran rolled 6 using 1d4+3.  Nat 20 damage. – 6

Roak's total damage is 10.
21:52, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 6 using 1d8+4.  Nat 20 damage. – 6

Roak and Elder voran take down the second quadruped quite thoroughly, and Hamburg's dart takes the charging goblin clean through one of its eyes.  The goblin falls, suddenly unmoving, in an indecorous heap.

The group can detect no further movement in the darkness, either around them, or from the direction of the archway.

"Well that was quick enough. Shall we move on beyond the arch before anytihng else happens along?"

Lanliss wiped his sword on the dead goblin, hopefully cleaning it in the process, and looked to his companions.

"Yes, in a moment Lanliss," Hamburg said as he knelt to inspect the bodies. His curiosity pertaining to the disease was piqued and he was looking to see if these mongrels or the goblin seemed to be similarly affected.

When finished, he glanced around to locate and recover his stray darts.

OOC: Checking for signs of the disease and if course anything interesting on the gob...

When the gruesome task was finished, he nodded to indicate he was ready to move on.

Hamburg's examination of the bodies of the two quadrupeds shows both to be infested with something like mange.  Their skins are alternately dry, cracked, flaking, and show angry red weeping sores.  Their eyes and mouths are highly irritated, and the bend points on their feet and legs are a horror of raw and often weeping flesh.

Hamburg is able to recover all of his darts, although one now has a fairly bent tip that will need to be repaired.

Once Hamburg is done, Roak nods to Lanliss. "Lead the way. We'll be a couple of paces back with the light so you can see in the dark better."

When Hamburg asks for time Lanliss is curious as to what he intends, but when the mage kneels down and examines the dead he immediately understands. Disease, how awful.

"I have a bad feeling about this*. But anyway, onwards."

With that the elf takes up the lead once more and heads for the archway.

*OOC: Han Solo moment. :)

When Lanliss leads the party onward, Hamburg has an opportunity to examine the body of the goblin.  It doesn't appear to be affected by whatever disease the doglike creatures were, and carries only some poorly-made arrows, a shortbow, and a long knife or shortsword sized for it.  The body wears leather armor, but has little else, aside from belt and boots, on it.

The path continues until it enters the previously-viewed archway, and the bodies of three sleeping goblins can be seen beneath it.  There is a passage which continues through the archway and into the side of the cavern wall, extending straight into darkness.

Turning to Roak, Lanliss stops before the archway.

"Would you care to perform a quick examination for traps, before I step forth into the inky blackness? One can rarely be too careful. If all is clear, I will despatch the goblins then move on."

Hamburg mused quietly on what he'd found with regard to the diseased appearance. He watched Lanliss disappear into the gloom and waited patiently for the others to proceed.

Roak looks up quizically at Lanliss. "I'm not some kind of thief, you know," says the diminutive warrior. "But for you, sure." He moves up to the archway and prods it with his sword, to see if he triggers any troubles, and then pokes at the ground as well for good measure.

Hamburg made a certain gesture, and the skeletal hand that was wont to be in his proximity, skittered forward and playfully began to scratch around in the sand with Roak!