The horizon has just taken on the first orange glow of morning when the silhouettes of the buildings which comprise Helix come into view. Besides the relief arrival at the village brings, the sight also boosts the adventurers’ collective confidence, their familiarity with the swamplands having grown enough that they were able to reach the settlement without the services of a guide.

Helix itself is mostly quiet. Only a handful of drovers are loading carts in front of the Silver Standard Merchant Caravan Company and a few ambitious merchants have begun preparation for market in the village square. Lights burn within the windows of the Shrine of St. Ygg. Otherwise, the streets of the settlement are still.

"To Mazzahs' tower? We have much to discuss."

The stillness that presides over Helix extends to the wizard’s spire, though, as the adventurers approach the structure, they can perceive a faint illumination from the upper window.

Entering and climbing the winding stairs, the company finds their patron seated at a desk, poring over a tome by candlelight, tracing the lines of script on the age browned pages with his finger as he reads.

Looking up as his visitors enter, Mazzahs says, ”You have returned quickly. Have you discovered something of import?”

He frowns as he regards the adventurers. ”Where is Caine?” he inquires.

Enshrouded in the fogs of the moor, Barnabus, after a fashion, was able to compose his thoughts.

At first, there was only one of them that ran on repeat: a Balrog barely a hundred feet away [from the entrance]! It didn't seem fair to him that a demon had been so cleverly concealed so close to the surface. But then he remembered the crashing of the stone slab (from #20) that could have flattened any of them. He should have known. The old rules did not apply.

Next, he thought of Caine. Stodgy and earnest, yes, but he had liked the young man, and it was Barnabus's lack of preparation that had doomed him. The calculating part of him though couldn't help but think that a sturdier warrior, one not weakened by his devotion to the arcane, would have been a wiser addition to the outfit.

Finally, he resolved, yes, resolved, to plan better lest the maze gobble up more of his precious pups. Even this resolution, perhaps firmer than most of his, was tinged by a certain exaltation to have been present for a clash of two such terrible beings.

Back at Helix before Mazzahs, the curate casts a guilty look at the spot where he had envisioned the horrific statue would have resided (might still if it survived the battle) if not for that something else which had been residing within it.


With the three mummies and the robe of ash along with the accoutrements of butchery (from the secret room), off to the side for now, the priest of Invictus answers, "From dust we came and to dust we go" -- neither callously nor despairingly.

"While exploring the tomb of this high priest of Orcus," he continues, carefully presenting the still-robed body of said priest along with its precious tome to their patron, "we moved a statue of a demon with the intention of bringing it back here. Doing so disturbed a circle that had been entirely covered by its base."

"A captive balrog was captive no more. It reduced Caine to ashes and would have incinerated the rest of us had not Varghoulis, champion of SetNergal, attacked it. The old ways die hard."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:23, Fri 06 Jan 2023.

 Dilemma nods at Barnabus' account of things.  "It's true... We would likely have joined Caine had it not been for Varghoulis." She spits.  "Would that I'd cast a spell of light upon the demon's eyes..."

 She has something to say about the sarcophagus as well, but keeps that to herself for now.  The demon, and not just some idiot mageling's quasit familiar that he thought he could control either, or even a lesser and slathering thing called up by some ill-intending Malconvoker fancying himself a pragmatist, was a little more important.  Not only to the task at hand, but also the world's well-being.

Malivoire recounted with wide eyes the last few seconds he saw of the battle before being hauled upward to safety.  "Varghoulis caught the demon's fiery whip about his shield and then pulled his opponent toward him.  Pulled it!" he repeated with gesture of his own arm, incredulous that anything would have the strength and power to manhandle the demon in such a way.  "Then he stabbed the beast in its shoulder with his blade, causing the demon to roar in pain such that the very stones of the Barrowmaze shook and cracked."

He looked to Mazzahs with a pale, drawn face.  "What have we done?"

”I do not know that any of you could have foreseen such an outcome,” Mazzahs explains, ”Those that delve into dark practices are often exceedingly clever. I would guess that this man had ambitions of returning from the dead and using this demon as a servant, or as a source of power.”

The wizard shakes his head. ”Those who seek assistance from such infernal creatures are mad. Demons only serve their own terrible purposes and will seek to destroy any who cross their path.”

“I would presume that Varghoulis would have the strength to defeat the balor, but we should remain watchful. It is possible the demon could escape his…”

Outside, an animal roar shatters the morning quiet and through one of the tower’s windows, the assembled adventurers see a sudden flare of crimson light. Below, the balor has landed in the village square. The demon is grievously wounded, its right wing reduced to tatters, one of its great horns only a collection of bony splinters, and its left forearm entirely gone. Clearly enraged, the abyssal monster begins merrily slaughtering the assembled merchants. Some of the company members reach the window in time to see the potion trader get split neatly in two by the creature’s blade.

From the nearby Shrine of St. Ygg, Brothar Othar emerges, holding a silver holy symbol aloft as he approaches the demon. The priest shouts a single word which echoes across the village and sends the balor reeling, its legs seeming to buckle. Mazzahs snatches a staff from beside his writing desk, then vanishes from the room in a flash of blue light, reappearing in the square below.

As the fell monster still struggles to find its bearings, the wizard points the staff at it, speaking an incantation. A blinding cone of crystalline ice blasts from the staff, enveloping the demon and freezing it solid. The force of the spell is so great that the immobile creature is sent flying out of the square, its inert form crashing through the newly erected framework for The Foul Pheasant, pulverized pieces of lumber sailing in every direction from the tremendous impact.

Quiet overtakes the village again as several guardsmen rush into the square, the soldiers blinking in surprise to find the threat already neutralized. Sheathing their swords, the armored warriors set about lending aid to the injured and gathering the dead. Several go to fetch the balor’s corpse.

With another blaze of blue light, Mazzahs returns to the tower room. Setting his staff back in its place, he says, ”Now, to an important point that you raised. We now know that Lord Varghoulis still remains within the catacombs, yes?”

 At the found of the first, Dilemma whines an exclamation suggesting that someone might have an unpleasant mother... Charley, too, makes a commotion.

 Then, Mazzahs makes short work of the demon.
For now.  Dilemma knew that they wouldn't be gone forever.  She silently resolves to use the decades, if not centuries ahead of her, to see to such threats...

 Then, when Mazzahs reappears and inquires, she nods.  "It would seem so... begging your pardon, but I have a potion on hand capable of binding the dead to serve.  I... did not think to use it earlier, but do you think that it could be used if we should encounter him again, to bring him in for questioning?"

"And those who delve into those mysteries must be themselves by extension..."

Barnbus points at the leather-bound tome.

"Yes, Lord Varghoulis still remains within the catacombs. I would say he rules those very catacombs. Maybe he broke a fingernail while crippling and maiming that which you just finished off." But, more importantly, it's time for the apprentice potion vendor to step up.

"Two other areas we visited. We broke open another sealed tomb; this one was more of a group burial plot if you like for four champions of Orcus, an assassin, a wizard, and two others. We encountered them not in their prime but in their decay -- as shadows. We destroyed three and the fourth fled before us."

Motioning to the mummies, Barnabus  says, "We cleaned that place out. I thought you'd want to see some ancient specimens of Orcus funereal practice. They might also have items that will help us further explore the barrows."

"As for the other area," he continues, shuddering, "it had ample evidence of the continued practice of barbaric rites, this time pointing to the knives, short sword, and pail. Strangely enough, we found it within a secret room -- right next to where some of the skulls were ... showcased."

The wizard considers Dilemma’s question in thoughtful silence for a moment. ”I am very uncertain that Varghoulis would be susceptible to the magic of that brew,” he says, ”However, I recall that during your prior expedition, some of you encountered one of Varghoulis’ knights, a warrior carrying on service to his lord even in death. I believe that the potion could be used to control one of them, and that they might be possessed of knowledge that would prove worthwhile to learn.”

Mazzahs picks up the leather bound book. Paging through it, he nods as Barnabus discusses the mummies the adventurers had retrieved who were dedicated to the service of Orcus. ”One never knows what clues might be gained from learning how a cult venerates its dead. I will ask Brother Othar to examine them along with me.”

Looking to Dilemma and Malivoire, he holds the book up. ”Tell me, did either of you peruse this volume before bringing it here?”

Pausing to examine the grim discoveries from the hidden room, he turns his attention to Dax. ”You possess some experience in the skill of tracking, do you not, good sir?”

Dax is stunned by the appearance of the demon, and instantaneous reaction from Mazzahs, killing it, apparently.

"What Me? I...uhhhh. Yes...yes, I can track. Far better in the woods than in the catacombs, but I can track.

Who would you have me track? The skeletal warriors serving Varghoulis?"

Malivoire watched from the window with first horror at the demon's rampage, then amazement as the priest and Mazzahs quickly defeated the raging balor.  Ultimately when he turned from the window he was still shaken, for the deaths in the square below were their fault.  Were it not for their actions, the demon would still be captive within the crypts.



Shaken from his morose thoughts, Malivoire looked up to Mazzahs.  "What?  Ah, oh sorry.  I have not looked at the tome yet, no.  Too many other things going on at the time," he explained distractedly.

"Dilemma, did you get a chance?"

 Dilemma looks at the tome, and then at her companion.  She only shakes her head.

”This is the necromancer’s spellbook,” Mazzahs tells the two spellcasters, offering the tome back to them, ”It is yours by right of discovery. Obviously, its original owner meant to utilize magic to further his own wicked schemes, but the spells within could still be put to good purpose.”

Returning his attention to Dax, the wizard says, ”Although the Barrowmaze undoubtedly draws its share of tomb robbers and cultists, I do not believe that the presence of such would account for all of the terrible leavings stored in this pail. I suspect that there is someone, possibly here in Helix, waylaying stray travelers and taking them to the catacombs, likely at the behest of something within the crypts. If you were able to track them from the moor back to where they came from, these killings could be halted, and perhaps we might learn more about the Barrowmaze, were the murderer to be taken alive.”

Barnbus scratches his head, burrowing his fingers within his mass of wiry, grey hair. Then, a smile spreads across his face, somewhat ghoulish given the twin tragedies of the loss of Caine and the potion monger.

"The five polished skulls -- we found them in a room with those Nergal banners."

Detaching his fingers from his hair, he says searchingly, "There was that note, too. Can't exactly remember it. Gamblers. Maybe they're being lured to the maze ... for debt negotiations."

"Now, Mazzahs, have we brought back anything else that might aid us? Any new robes for our wizards?" Barnabus begins, adding several other questions as well (number of charges in M's wand and the staff of fire, whether non-goblins can use that staff safely, resizing of the leather armor for Ishmael).
This message was last edited by the player at 00:39, Sun 08 Jan 2023.

"I can try." Shaking his head, the ranger adds, "I hope you are wrong Mazzahs. If someone here in Helix is in league with the fell creatures in the Barrows..."

The ranger goes silent as he gazes out the window to where the potions master was murdered only moment ago.

”This leather armor is indeed enchanted,” he says, referring to the armor taken from one of shadow’s corpses. ”It once fit a slender human, but it is a simple matter to modify its size if any of you are in need of it.”

He takes one look at the necromancer’s robe and shakes his head. ”That would not be safe for any to don. It may yield some valuable information when I am able to study it. But I will have to undertake those inquiries with great care.”

“Malivoire and Dilemma will benefit most from study of the spellbook.”

He peers with a deep frown at one of the mummies that has been brought to the spire. ”Odd,” he mutters. Spreading the bones out the party members can see that the corpse bears a series of runes etched into its ribs. Mazzahs speaks a few words and a hissing voice fills the chamber, its words clipped and guttural.

[Language unknown: ”Et na ivemanrat om ore Po p K’Adhentho tin di terearica! St sadial ntio ame she t tio oneectthe u ratesthat viresttha pre antin!]

”A message intended for the followers of Orcus. I would presume that visitors to the tomb would wear something enchanted to trigger it. It speaks of a knight of St. Ygg, Sir Guy de O’Veargne. It states that he brought an orb of significant power into the tombs and that it is imperative that followers of Orcus find it, lest it undo some of their workings within the Barrowmaze.”

“You may wish to inquire with Brother Othar about Sir Guy.”

He takes up the goblin shaman’s staff, pacing about the room for a moment as he studies the runes upon it. After a moment, he smiles. ”Ah. Now I see it. I am glad no one has made use of this thus far. This item carries a curse for any who attempt to utilize it who are not of goblin kind. Any who attempt to use the magic it contains will be transformed into a goblin themselves.”

With Malivoire’s permission, Mazzahs examines the wand. ”Eight charges remain within this wand. When it has been discharged, you may bring it to me and I may restore some of its usefulness.”

He nods in agreement with Dax’s sentiment. ”I hope that I am mistaken as well. But if there is one here in the village who is helping to further the work of any of the foul powers which rule the tombs, it is best that we know of it, and bring a halt to their deeds.”

He regards then group for a moment, then asks, ”What are your intentions? Do you intend to return to the maze immediately, or remain here for a time?”

OOC: The spellbook contains some spells that are currently beyond either Malivoire or Dilemma’s ability to master. Those that they can make use of are as follows:

First Level

Baltron’s Black Sheen*
Detect Magic
Fennril’s Exquisite Strangulation*
Hitzemun’s Blue Feet*
Read Languages
Ventriloquism

Second Level

Detect Evil
Galaxina’s Scintillating Spark Shower*
Invisibility
Knock
Locate Object
Vitharia’s Vengeful Visage*

Spells notated with a * are defined in the House Rules/Rules Specific to Barrowmaze thread.

Dax turns from the window, and looks around the room. "I say we try to locate the traitor in town, if he exists. And we can speak to Brother Othar and learn of this Sir Guy.

Exploring the moors can wait. Perhaps Varghoulis will have settled down, with the demon's demise at the hand of Mazzahs, which will make our return safer."

---

[Edit: demon was killed in the town]
This message was last edited by the player at 22:12, Wed 11 Jan 2023.

Fatigue, when it comes for the curate, comes with a rush. One moment, Barnabus is excitedly devouring every one of Mazzahs's utterances and then the next, his eyelids are drooping and he's sinking further into his chair, enjoying the feeling of security offered by the wizard's protection.

"Another day," he answers their patron's question, having snapped to in time to hear it.

Whether he's referring to a return to the tombs or a hunt for the agent, he doesn't say.

On his way out, he remembers the enchanter's offer. "Yes, for Ishmael; the armor is for him," he manages to get out on the way out.

A day at the Brazen Strumpet and then a consultation with Brother Othar.

Malivoire couldn't hide his avid interest in the spellbook, but nodded when Dax suggested searching for any traitors in town.  "We have done more harm than good here in Helix, despite our intentions.  We owe the townsfolk a deed that only helps them."

Once that matter was settled, Malivoire consulted with Dilemma and Mazzahs about the best methods to transfer spells from the recovered tome to his own spellbook.  He wasn't sure he had all the right materials handy, and how the activity might impact the planned schedule.

OOC:
Not sure of the game rules to copy spells across.  LL rules say it can be done but not exactly how long or how much it costs.  LL does have an example of replacing a lost/destroyed spell book, which costs 1 week and 1000gp per spell level.  Not sure if we treat copying spells the same way or not, but if we do I need to find a LOT more money  :)

With some spoken words and a few moments of closed eyed concentration, the wizard shrinks the armor to fit Ishmael. He passes it to the spelunker when finished.

”If you mean to speak with those in town regarding the possible agent, I have a few suggestions,” Mazzahs says. As he speaks, he gestures, causing the necromancer’s robe to levitate. It floats over to settle onto Mazzahs’ alchemy table. ”I would presume that whoever is traveling to the Barrowmoor attempts to do so when there are few individuals moving about Helix who could witness their movements. You might speak to the workers at The Brazen Strumpet, as they are the last to leave that establishment in the late hours. Brother Othar and his acolytes are often up well before dawn for prayer. Billworth Turgen also rises early, as many of the merchant caravans leaving Helix tend to prepare for their journeys before dawn. Any of them could have noticed something out of the ordinary.”
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 02:45, Wed 11 Jan 2023.

Departing the wizard’s spire, the adventurers find that a cloud speckled sky now overlooks Helix, the settlement notably quieter than usual. Nearing the village square, the company can see that a written notice has been posted on a wooden pole near the center of the gathering place, announcing that the market will not be held that day due to an “unforeseen occurrence”.

Outside the Shrine of St. Ygg, a male acolyte in a hooded robe provides aid to a trio of villagers with injuries. He looks over to the party as they draw close, greeting them with a nod. ”Good morning. I am Gamdar. Are you in need of healing or other assistance?”

Barnabus had half-dozed on the walk to shrine, daydreaming of a day of naps and bites.  He blinks at Gamdar, and it dawns on him that Gamdar is not Cella.

He steps forward and presents himself to this Gamdar (not Cella), "Other assistance is what we need. Brother Othar, that would be. Grave matters. Let him know that the agents of Mazzahs crave his assistance."

As an afterthought, he asks after Cella, "She's alright, yes? She did such a fine job of greeting us the last time."

”I believe Brother Othar is just inside the sanctuary,” Gamdar responds, gesturing to the shrine’s main entrance, ”He wanted to devote some time to prayer after the events of the morning, but I am certain that he would be glad to speak with you.”

Nodding, he adds, ”Cella is well. She had to perform several healings this morning. She is resting.”

From the east, a sudden shrill series of curses can be heard. The adventurers recognize the voice as belonging to Perri Ticklebottom, who is apparently expressing her displeasure regarding the recent setback to The Foul Pheasant’s restoration.

Silence pervades the interior of the austere sanctuary as the adventurers step inside the shrine. Brother Othar, who is kneeling in front of the chapel’s altar, hears the group enter and turns to regard them. Rising to his feet, he approaches. ”Good morning. What brings you here today?”

The sounds of Perri's displeasure give Barnabus a little bit of pep. Enough to think that the shrine must have ample supplies of tea. Tea. He wanted a cup of tea, he knew that. Would Brother Othar serve tea? Would it dawn on him to ask about the missing Caine?

"Three matters," Barnabus begins, after having made the customary greetings, "You can gauge the weight of each."

"Tea, do you serve tea for serious matters?" He well knew that monks and brothers had mastered that art above all others.

"This," he says with more urgency producing the cursed staff of fire, "has a malediction upon it."

He pauses, inordinately pleased at having remembered that word and and even more pleased at the prospect of annoying Ishmael with it.

"It will transform anybody without green skin into a goblin who attempts to use it. Can you remove it?"

Barnabus looks around for any would-be eavesdroppers before lowering his voice, "There is an agent of Orcas in Helix. He lures debtors to the Barrowmaze with some cockamamie promise other. There, they are murdered, scalped, and then decapitated. We found the symbol of the dead god's son, the ram's skull, carved into the table. Mazzahs thought you might have seen strange departures and returns ... "

"The agent must be the Rosy Quartz money lender," he says with conviction in inverse proportion to his evidence.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:38, Mon 16 Jan 2023.

 "Well..." Dilemma says, smiling at Malivoire.  "Looks like there might be a little bit of time to breathe so we can exchange spell knowledge.  In fact, I owe you for the spells you've already shared with me.  While it's not the best spell, I could teach you how to call a familiar of your own."

 Turning to Mazzahs, she offers the same.  "Would you like to learn this spell, as well?  Not to assume anything or step too far out of bounds, but I don't see a familiar in your presence!  And, my Charley is an invaluable asset."

"That would be fabulous, Dilemma.  Thank you," Malivoire replied to her offer with a smile.  He wondered what Charley thought of potential rivals, but imagined as a cat that Charley already knew he'd be superior.  That only widened the mage's smile.

Malivoire followed along with the group as they made their way to the shrine, and within to meet with Brother Othar.  Once the senior priest was able to speak with him, he added only one small offering on top of Barnabus' requests.

"Thank you for your efforts this morning, Brother Othar," he said respectfully, bowing his head.

”I am most appreciative of the offer,” Mazzahs replies, ”I do, in fact, have a familiar.” He points to a large iron cage that appears to be empty. ”but Kastrar tends to be rather protective and isn’t always welcoming to visitors. I have a ward in place that sends him to his cage when anyone enters the spire.” As if in acknowledgment, a brief growl arises from the seemingly vacant enclosure.

”If you wish to use the laboratory here to transcribe your spells, you are both welcome to do so. I possess all of the material components and inks that you might require. Late afternoon and evening would be best. I tend to perform my researches in the early hours of the day.”

Othar smiles in response to Malivoire. ”It is always our duty to protect the innocent. I am glad to serve.”

He raises an eyebrow at Barnabus’ first inquiry. ”I’m afraid the events of the morning have precluded the brewing of tea, though Cella may be making some now that her duties have been attended to.”

He accepts the staff from Barnabus, taking a long moment to study the inscriptions upon it. Finally, he shakes his head. ”This item was created through the power and blessing of the goblins’ chief deity, Maglubiyet. To try to alter it would simply result in its power dissipating. I fear that this was intended only for the use of Maglubiyet’s faithful.” Offering the piece back to Barnabus, he adds, ”It could be that one of the collectors in Ironguard Motte might have an interest in obtaining it. You might speak with Billworth Turgen about the possibility.”

“We are often up before the dawn to attend to prayer and other matters. Frequently, Billworth Turgen or one of the caravan drivers will ask for a blessing for their forthcoming journey. Besides those merchants who rise early, it was not unusual to see a few inebriated patrons from The Foul Pheasant wandering the streets. I’m certain that will become a common sight once more when it is rebuilt. Bollo of The Brazen Strumpet tends to send his customers home earlier, though some of his workers are often about in the early hours, as they tend to perform their cleaning and similar duties for the forthcoming day before departing.”

“I do not recall seeing anyone that was notably suspicious during that time.”

He pauses, considering the last of Barnabus’ words. ”I suppose that nothing is out of the realm of possibility, but I would be surprised if Harnold Huffnpuff had any involvement in such matters. Outside of making a profit by means of money lending and jewelry, his primary focus appears to be the procurement of fine food and drink. I have it on good authority from Billworth Turgen that he spends considerable sums on bringing in such items from the merchants at Ironguard Motte.”

"No tea," Barnabus exhales, even more lugubriously than when they had left the third urn behind in the treasury.

"But we do have two reasons to visit Billworth," he allows, allowing himself to be buoyed at the prospect of profit.

Almost as an afterthought, he asks Brother Othar if a "Protector of St. Ygg" might accompany them when they next visit the Barrowmaze. Without a paladin, he fears, they will be once again be "courting death."

Across the Village Square to Turgen's

Witness List
Brother Othar
Billworth Turgen
Brazen Strumpet staff

Suspect List
Harnold Huffnpuff
Brazen Strumpet staff
This message was last edited by the player at 19:32, Mon 16 Jan 2023.

OOC: Just checking before I shift the scene: Does anyone want to ask about Sir Guy de O’Veargne at this time? It’s not necessary to do so at this moment. The party can always return to the shrine at a later time to make the inquiry. But, if someone wants to ask after the knight now, they can. Otherwise, I’ll move things to Turgen’s Trade Goods.

Oh, right the orb. That was an oversight.

Digging his hands deep within his nest of hair, Barnabus has an epiphany. He would never again start another day without a cup of tea.

Then he remembers something he had just heard twenty minutes ago.

"Within a sealed tomb, we found four mummies within their boxes. Before we could look within, their shadowy selves assailed us. After we had destroyed three and driven off the fourth, we removed the mummies from the tomb. Mazzahs' discovered a message meant only for cultists etched in the bones of one."

"Sir Guy de O’Veargne brought an orb into the tombs. The cultists want it. We want it more."

"That last part wasn't part of the message," he says, helpfully.

"You should know," the curate brags, "they weren't just ordinary shadows."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:29, Mon 16 Jan 2023.

Othar raises his eyebrows in surprise when Barnabus mentions the knight. ”That’s quite an old story. One I haven’t encountered in some time.”

“There have been claims that before the Barrowmaze became a vast collection of tombs that it was a temple. One of the most ancient dedicated to the worship of Nergal. So great was the power concentrated there that it was said a place where the barriers between the planes were weakened, where it was easy for beings from another realm to step into our own.”

“Our records of that time are unfortunately fragmentary, but it occurred before Nergal was known to have been usurped by his terrible sons. Our order understandably viewed this temple as a great threat to all in the region, and Sir Guy, a champion of some renown was tasked with leading an expedition to destroy it.”

“He was given a tool to close the gate. Records refer to it as a font. This is the first I have heard it being spoken of as an orb. Regardless, Sir Guy and a group of knights ventured to the temple with it in their possession. But they never returned.


He shakes his head. ”War overtook these lands not long after. Once the fate of Nergal had been learned, the church believed the power of the temple had likely faded. It does not seem that these cultists you speak of agree with that view.”

“If the artifact given to Sir Guy exists, it is almost certainly a relic of great power. If the gate remains, it must be closed.”

It looks like Barnabus isn't the only one who would have benefited from a cup of tea this morning.

"If it were a font, something must have had to have been placed within it? An orb?" wonders the curate, giving his shock of gray hair a shake, so thick that it barely rustles.

Before he himself forgets his request, he voices it again, "A paladin of St. Ygg, Othar? You don't expect me to find one of Impurax in these parts, do you?" with that impertinence of his that occasionally slips into his speech.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:53, Wed 18 Jan 2023.

”Possibly so,” Othar says in response to Barnabus’ conjecture, ”Our histories only contain references to the font. They give no detail regarding its construction or its powers, beyond its ability to destroy the gate.”

The priest smiles patiently. ”This is a shrine. An outpost. It has taken considerable effort to see Cella and Gamdar assigned here. Nevertheless, I will send word to Ironguard Motte of your need. It may be that a warrior in service of St. Ygg may be able to join you, though most are committed to crusades in the north and south.”

Ok, I think we're ready for a shift to Turgen’s Trade Goods.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:45, Wed 18 Jan 2023.

 "Very well, then." Dilemma, at Malivoire's words, claps a hand on her spell book.  "I don't think Charley would mind..." An approving chirp is heard from the mage's bag.

---

At the mention of weakening barriers between realms Brother Othar in the temple, Dilemma frowns.  She'd heard of such things...

 However, at the possibility of an additional set of hands in the group, she feels a little more at ease.

A few villagers are surveying the items on hand at Turgen’s Trade Goods, though the atmosphere in the normally busy shop is understandably subdued. Billworth Turgen stands at the counter reviewing a ledger, a wooden pipe clamped between his teeth, a haze of smoke surrounding him.

He glances up as he sees the adventurers enter. ”Back again from the moors?” he asks, ”Hope you’ve had better luck out there than we have here. Don’t know if you heard, but the market had a spot of trouble this morning. Rampaging monster of some kind. Bad business. Elzeiros, the potion seller, got ripped clean in two. Poor bastard.”

Dax leans toward Malivoire and whispers, "I hope this is all making sense to you, because I am lost on what we are looking for!"

Dax gives a nod, "We did see the demon. Thank the gods Mazzahs and Brother Othar were able to deal with it."

Elzeiros? He'd had a name? Next they'd be takin' up a collection for his fatherless brood of brats!

Barnabus segues from the talk of one demon to the other: the agent of Orcus, one headquartered within Helix itself.

"We're not the only ones who've been going back and forth through the moors. A cultist has been luring debtors to the barrow where their heads are put on the block when they can't pay up."

"Have you seen anyone else making the trek, perhaps at odd hours?" the Inquisitor of Impuratas inquires. "Maybe a hired hand at the Strumpet?"

As he speaks, his hands fidget with a certain relic of Maglubiyet -- what a collector's item it would be.

Turgen nods in agreement with Dax. ”Aye. ‘Tis true. If it weren’t for the two of them protecting the rest of us, we’d have all been doomed for certain.”

He frowns at Barnabus’ question. ”Odd that you ask. Perhaps two weeks back I had to be up earlier than is my usual time. The garrison at the Motte had gotten low on their grain stores and needed some sent as soon as we could manage. It was still quite dark when I got to the trading company and I saw someone coming into town from the south, from the moors, on foot. Thought it might have been one of the ambitious sorts that think they can sneak in the barrows and make off with a pile of gold, but get a lot more than they bargained for. It occurred to me that they might be hurt, so I called out to the person, asking if they were in need of help, but as soon as they heard my voice they ran off to the west. Never caught sight of them again.”

He shrugs. ”It struck me strange. Best I could tell, it was a man. On the slender side, but it was too dark for me to make out his features.”

“I’d doubt that those at The Brazen Strumpet were up to anything nefarious. Bollo and his workers are all honest sorts. Two of his barmaids, Taycee and Urgritte, live on the southern side of Helix. They usually go home late. Either one could have seen something.”

While adding Turgen's testimony to his mental notebook, a follow-up question occurs to Barnabus: "What about the figure said 'man' to you since it was too dark to make out its features?"

After the merchant answers his question, the curate produces the Staff of Maglubiyet, as he now refers to it, and offers it for sale on the condition that he never attempt to use it unless he first transforms himself into a goblin -- lest the staff do it for him.

Witness List
Brother Othar
Billworth Turgen saw a slender ?man? in the small hours approaching Helix from the south before running off to the west after Turgen hailed him. Did you get that, Dax?
Barmaid Taycee
Barmaid Urgritte

Suspect List
Harnold Huffnpuff
Brazen Strumpet staff
This message was last edited by the player at 03:20, Sat 21 Jan 2023.

Turgen considers for a moment. ”The way in which he walked. His gait seemed that of a man. And his shoulders. Too broad for a woman in my estimation.”

The merchant accepts the offered staff, looking it over carefully. ”Aye. There might be a few in the Motte who’d have an interest in something such as this. I can offer you seven hundred gold for it.”

"Like most ancient mysteries, the truth is probably something else altogether," Malivoire whispered back with a shrug.  "But to start we watch for a font, or an orb, or both."
~~~~~~~~

Malivoire listened carefully to Barnabus interrogate Turgen on anything he'd seen, and became especially attentive when it seemed there might be a lead discovered.  Alas it was so general as to be almost useless.  But at least it was something.  On top of that, Turgen offered up Taycee and Urgritte as other possible witnesses.  Those with a keen eye might have caught Malivoire blushing slightly when Taycee's name was mentioned.  He'd embarrassed himself when speaking with her the first time they'd visited the tavern.

The elven mage waited for Barnabus to concluded his haggling with the merchant before readying to move along.  "Time to see the barmaids?" he asked, a little timidly.

Without haggling, Barnabus unloads the cursed staff for the offered 700 pieces of gold. Turning to Malivoire, he saucily informs him that he might not like discovering who might be warming a barmaid's bed at this hour.

"And even if the strumpet sleeps alone, it wouldn't do to disturb her sleep," he finishes. No, he thinks they should tromp on over to the Ironguard Motte and see if any of the town watchmen have anything to report about missing persons or strangers in the night. After that, it might be time for Dax to see if he can sniff out any of those tracks that come from the south and then diverge to the west.

It certainly doesn't seem like there would be any time for tea on this day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Witness List
Brother Othar
Billworth Turgen saw a slender ?man? with broad shoulders and a manly gait in the small hours approaching Helix from the south before loping off to the west after Turgen hailed him.
Town Watch
Barmaid Taycee
Barmaid Urgritte

Suspect List
Harnold Huffnpuff
Brazen Strumpet staff
This message was last edited by the player at 21:03, Sat 21 Jan 2023.

Exiting Turgen’s Trade Goods, the adventurers are met at the shop’s entrance by Cella, her expression marked by wide eyed wonder. ”Your pardon,” the acolyte says by way of greeting to the company, ”Brother Othar said that I might find you here. He asked that you return to the shrine as soon as you are able.”

Dax is surprised to see the acolyte waiting for them.

"Of course, Cella. We will return immediately."

Oh, maybe, they had a prepared a tea for them after all! Barnabus hurries along side Dax back to the shrine.

Cella leads the adventurers back to the church. The acolyte does not run, but she walks at a brisk pace. Within the village square, the company members see that several townspeople are hard at work constructing new booths for the village market. The sounds of sawing and hammering fill the air.

Uncharacteristically, the door to the shrine’s sanctuary is open. Brother Othar stands on the steps outside, the ghost of a smile on his face. As the adventurers draw near, he says, ”There are times when prayer is answered quite quickly.” The priest motions for the group to enter.

Standing within the sunlit sanctuary are three familiar figures: the squire known to most as Ol’ Gib, the young man at arms, Andryr of Ironguard, and the company’s former compatriot, Sir Dryvyk of Drakeholme.

Sir Dryvyk smiled as his former companions entered the shrine. His face was haggard and the hem of his surcoat and boots were muddy. His squires looked much the same, as if they'd ridden hard on little rest. The young Knight's face wore an expression that was a mixture of awe and confusion.

"Well met friends! I would have assumed that you all would be out exploring the Barrows. A pleasant surprise indeed. Brother Othar has been chattering about a miracle, but wouldn't quite explain... something about our arrival having been Divinely guided. St. Ygg must have a great need or a dark sense of humor, but at any rate, we're here now. Perhaps you all could enlighten me?"

Sir Dryvyk glanced at the smug curate of the shrine.

"The Barrows sometimes have other plans for those who explore it," Barnabus reminds Sir Dryvyk after giving the paladin a rib-crunching hug of welcome.

"Now, if you and your entourage are going to sign up for another tour, I want your given name this time around. Or must I always call you, "Sir?"

When he gets around to the explanation, the cleric says, "It's like this, Sir. There never was any question of the evil within the tombs. But it is a most sneaky, furtive evil. It doesn't play fair. It hides as the pinpricks of shadows within walls. It plasters itself to the bottom of splendid statuary."

Barnabus beams, "That's where you come in, Sir. You can sniff out evil no matter how skunky it gets."

(OC)
And I won't have to prepare Detect Evil.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:16, Sun 22 Jan 2023.

"Dryvyk! You've returned!"

Dax stepped up to the paladin and clasped arms with him, and then Gib and Andryr. "What Barnabus is trying to say is that things in the Barrow are far more deadly than what you saw. Brother Othar may have explained, but there are demons and such dedicated to Orcus and Nergal, and gods know what else!"

"We can't wait to get back as soon as possible," Barnabus enthuses. "But first we have to sniff out an agent of Orcus here in Helix."

He gives his shaggy head of hair a shake. It barely flinches in response.

"I think the next stop would be the residence of Krothos Ironguard to see if there have been any reports from his men. While Malivoire would love to peer in on a certain barmaid's bed, that will have to wait."

Sir Dryvyk seemed a little bewildered still, there were many holes and unanswered questions. He trusted these companions however and more so his God, Whose Hand had led him here, apparently in perfect timing.

"More dangerous that that Varg- uh... black-clad fellow we rousted? Maybe we should have stayed at Ironguard," he muttered to his squires jokingly. The bravery of this holy knight was writ upon him like a glowing cape.

"Yes, foiling the efforts of the foul hellions is part of my Oath. We'll gladly join in that effort anew!"

When mention of Krothos was made, the young Knight's face darkened and his features stiffened. It was clear Sir Dryvyk was reining in his expression of disdain. "If you're to speak with that cur, perhaps it would be best if I were not in attendance. There is a duel brewing between he and I, and now's probably not the time to have it come to a head..."

Ol'Gib grumbled something that might have been a slur and spat.

"However, I will bow to the party's wishes and stay my tongue and hand if that is expedient to our endeavors."

Sir Dryvyk's knuckles had turned white upon the hilt of his sword.

Barnabus smirks, "Nowhere near as dangerous as that one. How else could we pipsqueaks be charged with his capture?"

The news of bad blood between the paladin and the local militia man is new to Barnabus.

"Whatever are you talking about, Sir?" the priest asks, still not having been given the knight's given name.

"Spill the beans, Sir."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:46, Mon 23 Jan 2023.

"Leave off, Barnabus," Malivoire shot back in a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment.  He was insulting the women as well as the mage, and that was going too far.

Malivoire otherwise fell silent, listening to the conversation between the priest and Sir Dryvyk.

"Sir Dryvyk," the young Knight said somewhat gently to the elderly cleric. "We've met before, but it's alright if you don't remember... My family holds the lands of Drakeholme, perhaps a dozen miles east of Bogtown, southeasterly of the Old Dwarf Bridge..."

Ol'Gib made a not-so-subtle motion to indicate that Barnabus wasn't all there.

Shrugging off the awkward second introduction, Sir Dryvyk tried to find words to explain himself with regards to the son of the Lord Viscount of Ironguard.

"I find him to be a lying and repulsive animal whose selfishness seeks to satiate his ill whims at the price of his subjects. He has defamed the honor of Drakeholme and nearly cost me my spurs. All of this while bearing the false countenance of a worthy knight and gentlemen to the militant orders of our mutual association."

"There will come a reckoning, I assure you, but until I have undeniable proof of his knavery, I shall continue to restrain myself."

Squire Andryr beamed proudly, obviously in the company of Ol'Gib in support of the young knight. Having grown up in the Motte, he'd been familiar of the rivalry between the younger member of the Lord Viscount's family and the prodigious young knight of Drakeholme.

"It's just that I've always thought that Dryvyk was your surname," the curate protests, his want of tea unmistakably salient.

"I don't have one; I was a foundling."

After all that the knight has said has registered with him, he replies, "At least he's too busy with his machinations and mischief above ground to be our agent of Orcus below ground."

"Speaking of ground, Dax, it's time to search for some tracks."

Let's look for tracks while the barmaids sleep.

 When greetings are exchanged, Dilemma offers a quick greeting of, "Well met, I am Dilemma, and this is Charley."  But she does not fail to set her weight on one foot, put her hand on her hip, and roll her eyes at Barnabus' remarks about Malivoire and the barmaid... She actually gives the knights a look as if to say, "this guy".

 Once things are out of the way, she will make her way with the others.

OOC: If Dax is going to attempt to track the comings and goings of the cultist, I’ll need two things: a percentile roll for success and an indication of which area of Helix or its outskirts are being searched.

Dax is taken aback by the vitriol in the paladin's words.

"I trust Dryvyk's judgement completely. And his words seem to match what we have heard about Krothos. I say we not bother with him at the moment.

I can try to look for tracks leading from the Barrows to the square and then off to the west...but I will be the first to admit finding anything useful from two weeks ago is not likely.

We can also ask the barmaids if they ever noticed anyone or anything strange on their way home."


"My apologies, Dilemma, my joy at seeing Dryvyk, made me forget my manners!

Dilemma is a new addition to our group of delvers. She, like Malivoire is a wizard who has proven their worth in our recent trips into the barrow."

---

Dax Moonblade rolled 49 using 1d100 for Tracking.

Dax will look for tracks from a hundred paces south of the south gate, that lead into the village square and then head west toward the statue of Herne.

If I'm reading the chart right, Dax has a -50% chance! :-)

Sir Dryvyk reddened a bit with embarrassment. "Please forgive my lack of manners as well. It is my pleasure to meet you and I look forward to our acuaintance."

He bowed gracefully. "Allow me to introduce my most dedicated and capable squires. This is Gibraltar of Blackwater, my mentor and trainer and quartermaster. And this young man is Andryr of Ironguard, squire in training."

The shorter fellow could have easily been mistaken for a dwarf save he was a bit taller and narrower at the hips, but only a bit. His face and hands were a study of scars. His gear, though well worn, was meticulously kept save for the coating of mud and dirt from their recent hastened travel. He wore a powerful crossbow over his shoulder. His jaw worked at chewing something that never seemed to become tender enough to swallow.

Andryr was a well built man barely grown past his youth. He was of a more hearty constitution than his knight, who seemed to barely fill his armor with his lanky frame. Andryr's admiration was plain as was his eagerness to prove himself as brave and dedicated as Dryvyk himself.

"I apologize for my bold and perhaps brash speaking of Lord Krothos. I should not have spoken thusly behind his back. At some point, my lance or blade shall do my speaking for me."

OOC: In Labyrinth Lord, rangers begin any tracking attempt in an outdoor/wilderness area with a flat 90% chance of success, which is modified by several factors, including weather and the age of the tracks. In this instance, Dax’s base chance came out to 70%, so the check was passed. :)

The search for sign of the cultist takes time. Fortunately for Dax Moonblade, there are few who travel beyond the southern edge of Helix into the moors, most residents of the village being well aware of the dangers that lurk in the ancient swamp.

Dax first locates a series of tracks that he determines to have been left by a group of three within the last day. The depth of the tracks informs him that the members of the group were carrying some heavy items, likely hammers, pry bars, and other tools. The ranger concludes that these were likely would be tomb robbers, hopeful of finding treasure hidden within the barrows. An inquiry at The Brazen Strumpet or Turgen’s Trade Goods would likely confirm the suspicion.

Some time passes before Dax locates a second set of tracks, these made by a lone individual no more than two days prior. The prints are made by heavy boots, perhaps specifically chosen for the traversal of the marshy terrain. However, beyond the boots, the depth of the imprints suggests to Dax that the person traveled lightly. They probably wore leather armor at most, possibly none at all. The tracks are sure footed, suggesting someone who is accustomed to crossing the soft ground and familiar with the Barrowmoor. Dax does not see any missteps into the abundant pools of brackish water that dot the forsaken landscape. The footfalls suggest a person of human size.

Tracing the steps back, Dax finds that they originated from the village square, but from there, he can follow them no further, the boot prints becoming hopelessly lost within the great tangle of traffic within the marketplace. The angle of the tracks’ exit from the square, however, strongly suggests to the ranger that the traveler came from the western side of Helix.

By the time Dax’s efforts are completed, the sun is nearing its zenith in the afternoon sky. The day is warm, with few clouds overhead.

A shudder of jealousy traverses the length of Barnabus's face, causing his left cheek to twitch, before disappearing from view. To think that three scoundrels were off gallivanting around the tombs with nary a thought for their preservation let alone enhancement. Maybe they would be pancaked by a falling slab. It was not one of his more charitable thoughts.

With the dawn having given way to morning and now the sun high overhead, the two barmaids should have already emerged from their beds, with hair disheveled and skin still flushed with sleep. Their lovers, if they had them, should have already had time to slip away...

Off to ask Barmaid Taycee a few questions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Witness List
Brother Othar
Billworth Turgen saw a slender ?man? with broad shoulders and a manly gait in the small hours approaching Helix from the south before loping off to the west after Turgen hailed him.
Barmaid Taycee
Barmaid Urgritte

Suspect List
Harnold Huffnpuff
Brazen Strumpet staff

Tracking Report
Group of three raiders, well-supplied, off to raid the tombs this day.
Lone human-sized individual in ?swamp? boots and in light armor, leaving tracks no more than two days old. Arrived from western side of Helix.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 18:53, Tue 24 Jan 2023.

Sir Dryvyk lingered a bit and spoke briefly to Brother Othar, somewhat amazed and humbled by the workings of Deity to bring him here in the hour of need. He directed Ol'Gib to go on ahead and assist Dax as needed, leaving Andryr to tend to their tired horses. They all joined up a while later, considering the findings of the tracker.

"Perhaps we should visit Turgen’s. Ol'Gib needs to top off a few supplies anyway, so it won't seem like our arrival is threatening an inquisition. Could be we could get a name of whoever's determined to be Barnabus's competition!" He flashed a grin at the oldster and gave him a knowing wink. It was a little out of character for the customarily reserved knight, but indicative that he was softening to working with those of questionable character.

Sir Dryvyk and his two squires step inside Turgen’s Trade Goods to find that they are, for the moment, the only customers in the shop. The barrel chested proprietor is engaged in setting out several coils of rope atop a trio of wooden crates. He glances over his shoulder as the three men enter.

”Sir Dryvyk!” Billworth says with a broad smile, ”You’ve returned to Helix! Are you remaining for a time or just passing through?”

When the adventurers enter The Brazen Strumpet, they find the tavern moderately busy. Although few drinks have been served, several patrons are occupying tables, partaking of an afternoon meal. Friendly conversation fills the spacious room.

Bollo, the tavern’s balding owner, is unloading a crate of wine bottles behind the bar. The red haired Taycee is also at the bar, quietly humming a lilting tune as she polishes glasses.

Urgritte, the tallest of the tavern’s workers, her braided blonde hair reaching the small of her back, delivers plates to a waiting group of patrons while the last of the barmaids, the slender, dark haired Merida, collects empty plates and used cutlery.

Tamson and Valorin, who have both served as guides for the adventurers, are seated together at a table on the left side of the room. They wave in greeting as the party steps inside.

Once again, the hours have slipped away from the capricious curate. What could he know of the schedule of a barmaid? Let alone two? Let alone Three! What could he know of such things? And who was this slender Merida?

After giving their former guides a broad grin of welcome, Barnabus claims a table for the Barrowmaze outfit before going to the bar and ordering "the blackest tea in the house" for the table.

"First pot's on me!" he generously calls out.

In a lower voice, he instructs the crimson maid, "When you serve your lovely tea, you must tell us if you've seen anyone in the small hours tramping from west Helix to the south gate and beyond to the moors. Five minutes after that, please send Urgritte our way with platters for the table and an answer to the same question."

"First round of platter's on me!" he generously calls out.

He places ten pieces of gold in her palm and returns to the outfit. At the table, he takes in all of the clientele and staff. Anyone both slender and broad-shouldered?
This message was last edited by the player at 02:15, Thu 26 Jan 2023.

On the way to the Brazen Strumpet Malivoire fell in beside Dilemma.  "Ah, thanks for the moral support back there," he said with a small smile.  She hadn't said anything, but she had very expressive eyes.  He was grateful.

At the tavern he found a seat with the others, offering a wave in response to Tamson and Valorin.  He glanced around to confirm the servers were present and then watched a little suspiciously as Barnabus made something of a show at the bar while talking with Taycee.  It seemed some of his words were their secret - the mage surely hoped he wasn't being set up by the sharp-tongued priest!  He'd had enough jabs for one day already.

"Thank you for ordering food and drink," he said to Barnabus cautiously, once he joined them.

Ah! In-character descriptions might be in order.  We're both catching each other, Good Knight!

 Dilemma smiled at the knight, and assured him that no offense was taken at things.

 She is short, maybe a head and a half taller than your average dwarf and resembles a slender human or perhaps a stocky elf with only slight points to her ears.  Skin is tanned with a light golden undertone, eyes and hair are brown, and hair is cut in a practical and yet unusual manner... These are features from, oh, are they called the Middle Realms*?  Whatever.  Her attire is purple and white, and as far as weaponry is concerned only a handful of daggers can be seen on her.

 A cat with black and white fur can be seen usually residing in her bag, his upper body or head poking out of the top.  This fellow is called "Charley", and he is her familiar.  Any investigation of her goods will show that he "props himself up" on sheets of parchment and ration pouches.

* - Your Fantastical Mediterranean Analogue.

---

"Any time..." She says to Malivoire.

 Matching her fellow mage further, she mouths, "Oh, brother..." at Barnabus' very animated conduct.

In reply to Billworth Turgen (msg # 67):

Sir Dryvyk nodded and smiled. "Hello Master Turgen, it's been a while. Yes, I've been... called... back to Helix, for a time, I know not how long, but we shall assume a few weeks. We'll be needing some supplies topped off, Ol'Gib will take care of that with you in a moment, but tell me, what by the muddy hem has been going on? I've not been gone that long, but it seems no small amount of trouble has manifest itself around here!"

The young knight glanced around at the supplies on hand, trying get a feel for what the trader was low on.

"Looks like you've had a bit of traffic through here since the last visit. Have you had another group of adventurers undertake to explore the Barrows? Business good for you?"

”You’re not wrong, Sir,” Turgen replies, ”The Foul Pheasant caught fire and burned right to the ground not long ago. Course, truth be told, that were the owner, Perri Ticklebottom’s, own fault. She’d had some trouble and rather than going to the Mercenary Guild for security, she thought she could save a few gold coins by hiring a pack of goblins.” He shakes his head. ”It were the goblins’ leader what started the blaze. Anyone with sense knows goblins are nothing but trouble.”

“Then, just this morning, as the merchants were setting up their booths for market, some monster comes out of the sky and lands right in the middle of ‘em. Starts cuttin’ ‘em down like shafts of wheat. Brother Othar from the shrine and Mazzahs the wizard turned up and froze the thing solid.” He shrugs. ”Several claim it was some manner of demon, but I can’t say. Didn’t lay eyes on it myself.”

He nods in response to the second inquiry. ”Aye. Sold some tools and rope to three fools that said they’d learned of one of the barrows on the moor that were loaded with gold. They can buy what they want of course, but every time a group like that comes in, I try to warn them away from the swamps. I tell ‘em straight how many’s gone out there never to return. Ones like that, they don’t listen. They’re convinced they’re smarter than the rest of us and have it all figured out.”

After a few minutes have passed, Taycee arrives at the table, carrying a tray with a fresh pot of tea and several cups. Setting it down on the table, she hands one of the cups to Malivoire and says, ”You were asking about people traveling out of the village late at night, southward toward the moors?”


”I live on the southern side of Helix. Master Hendon has rented me a room in the mill. But I’ve not seen anyone leaving for the moors late in the night. I do walk home from the tavern every evening, but I can’t say I’ve noticed anyone suspicious. Helix has long been a safe place mostly, but I have had to be watchful for some of the ruffians that would leave The Foul Pheasant around the same time we close. Once, not long after I came here, a man took my coin purse from me at knife point.”

Gesturing to the table, she says, ”Your food should be ready shortly. I’ll bring your plates as soon as it’s done. And I’ll ask that Urgritte come speak with you.”

Merida approaches the adventurers’ table carrying a glass mug. The group can see that several coins, silvers, coppers, and one or two gold, have been dropped inside it. ”We’re taking up a collection for the widow of Elzeiros, the potion vendor. She’s moving north to join her family and will need money to make the journey. Would any of you like to contribute?” she asks.

With gratitude beyond measure, Barnabus starts to sip his first cup of the day long into the day. The black nectar is so sweet to his lips he neglects to rib Mal about the favor shown to him by Taycee.

~~~


He. Knew. The. Risks. But seemingly moved by the widow's plight, Barnabus donates five pieces of gold towards her repatriation.

"He'll be remembered, he will," he avers. Hard not to with his name on every Tom, Dick, and Jane's lips. I'll have to add his name to the commemoration plaque, or I'll never hear the end of it. "It's a brave man who sells potions on the frontier."

"Seen anyone tromp off to the moors by cover of night through the south gate, Merida, have you?" he asks, measuring the width of her shoulders with his eyes.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:00, Thu 26 Jan 2023.

Malivoire seemed a bit startled, albeit pleasantly so, when Taycee handed him a teacup directly.  After his surprise died away, he looked rather pleased with himself, and waited for the pot to circle the table before pouring himself a decent cupful.

Their investigation remained less than fruitful though, as the redhead didn't seem to have any useful information to relate on possible ne'er-do-wells braving the Barrowmoor in the wee hours of the night.  The mage sighed and took a sip of the hot tea, wrinkling his nose slightly at the taste.

When Merida approached and explained the donation mug, Malivoire rose and matched Barnabus' donation.  He felt a personal responsibility for the demon's attack and helping out the widow was the very least he could do.  As the coins clinked into the mug he asked Merida to pass on a message.  "Please convey my heartfelt condolences to the widow."

As the priest took advantage of Merida's visit to ask about her late-night observations, Malivoire settled back in his chair and awaited her reply, teacup cradled in his hands.

"Bring me a cup of ale with it, please! Tea's fine for the morning."

"A sad thing, that was." Dax avoids looking at Merida while he fishes in his pack. He pulls out a handful of gold and drops it into the container.

---

My character sheet says Dax has over 600 gold, so he will drop 25 into the jar, due to guilt!

”That’s very generous of all of you,” the barmaid says, ”I know that his widow, Lorin, will be most grateful.”

She nods at Dax’s request and signals to Taycee at the bar.

Barnabus can see that Merida’s shoulders are narrow in keeping with the rest of her petite figure. The slight point to her ears informs the priest that she is half elven in heritage.

She shakes her head in response to Barnabus’ question. ”I have a room at the Sleepy Grotto boarding house, which is just a short distance north of here. When work’s done, I go straight there. It’s never seemed wise to linger on the streets after dark, especially when The Foul Pheasant was open.”

Taycee delivers Dax’s requested ale along with the first two plates of food. ”Be back with the rest in a moment,” she says.

Urgritte, whose stature is close to that of Ynes, approaches the table with a raised eyebrow. ”Taycee said you had questions for me?” The barmaid’s accent suggests that she hails from the far north.

With the black tea dispersing the fog that had been enshrouding his thoughts, many of which had been hopelessly lost therein, Barnabus can employ concision.

"One question. After work, before or near dawn, have you seen a broad-shouldered traveler" -- pausing here to indicate with hand motions that Merida's lithe figure is disqualifying, before resuming -- "take the south gate out of Helix, perhaps having arrived there from the west?"

Or at least what passes for it.

Caffeinated, he asks another question before the barmaid of the north can answer, "Mal, don't you think we should see that the Foul Pheasant doesn't rise again lest the maids be under threat once again?"

In reply to Billworth Turgen (msg # 73):

"It's indeed a nasty place to muck around in," Sir Dryvyk agreed with a knowing nod, casting his eyes in the direction of the Barrowmoors. For a moment he thought of the blood-curdling experience of disturbing the crypt of Varghoulis. He shuddered. "These three fellows, have they returned since you last saw them?"

He glanced at a stool and asked the proprietor, "Pray Turgen, would you mind if I sat a moment? My feet are killing me. Would you believe I'm still nurturing blisters from our last outing?"

With Turgen's permission, the young knight sat and removed a muddy riding boot. He began to massage his foot. "Every step out there seems as if you'll sink to your waist, and if you don't, you jar your back in the anticipation thereof! Would that I were a duck and could trod with webbed feet! What say you sir? Have you ever run across such a boot with a widened sole to better navigate that swampy mire?"

Turgen raises no objection to the knight taking a seat. To the first question, the shopkeeper shakes his head. ”No. I’ve not seen them, nor have I heard that they’ve returned to Helix.”

He nods his head. ”I’ve sold a few pairs of such. But I don’t keep them in stock generally. There’s not enough foolhardy souls headed out into the swamps to warrant it. But there’s a cobbler in Ironguard Motte who can fashion them for me in about a week’s time. Those who want them have to pay in advance.”

Urgritte frowns at the question, remaining silent for a moment as she considers it. ”Yes. One night, not long ago. We were here late on account of a rowdy group of caravan drivers. When I went home, I saw someone coming into the village from the south.”

“They were dressed in black clothing, or it so seemed in the deep shadows. I think I startled them as they approached the village square. When they saw me, they turned westward, running into the dark. They seemed broad shouldered, but I could not see their face. They wore a hood of some kind.”

She shrugs. ”From their actions, I thought they might be a thief, but it did not seem wise to follow them.”

Barnabus takes a few moments to both digest what he has been eating and what he has just heard.

Smiling, he thanks Urgritte and then continues his digestive processes, considering the next step in their investigations.

Witness List
Brother Othar
Billworth Turgen -- saw a slender ?man? with broad shoulders and a manly gait in the small hours approaching Helix from the south before loping off to the west after Turgen hailed him.
--has sold a few pairs of swamp shoes.
Barmaid Taycee
Barmaid Urgritte saw a ?boad-shouldered? person, hooded and dressed in black, who ran westward from the village square after she startled ?him? one night.

Suspect List
Harnold Huffnpuff
Brazen Strumpet staff
A west Helix man

Tracking Report
Group of three raiders, well-supplied, off to raid the tombs this day.
Lone human-sized individual in ?swamp? boots and in light armor, leaving tracks no more than two days old. Arrived from western side of Helix.

Dax sips from his mug, and puts it down on the table.

"We've not learned anything new. But it sounds certain that someone living west of the village square is likely our culprit.

I'm willing to stand watch near the south gates tonight. But will this person simply head to the Barrow, or will we need bait?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:30, Mon 30 Jan 2023.

Malivoire shot Barnabus a look under lowered brows, but eventually offered his opinion. "I think that the town should be safe for all its residents.  But the town leaders should manage that.  We should not be targeting specific businesses on our own accord."

He reached for his cup to cut off the discussion, but found it empty.  So he pushed his chair back and stood.  "I'm going to get a glass of wine.  I'll be back shortly."

The elven mage crossed the room to bar and asked for a glass of red wine from Taycee, who had resumed her post there.  Barnabus will have a field day with this, he thought.

Malivoire had already left on his quest before Barnabus had formulated a reply about the wisdom of leaving reform to "corrupt leaders."


"Greed and boredom will provide all the bait we might need as they lure gamblers to their doom. Besides any number of reasons might draw this devotee to the barrows."

"If we capture ?him?, our patron should be able to steal all that he knows from him."

"It is possible," the investigator speculates, "that it might disguise itself as one thing for its forays into the night and appear as another within Helix."

”I will stand watch with you,” Ynes tells Dax, ”Though we might seek to find a spot where we can observe the gate without being easily seen. Based on Urgritte’s story, it would seem that this person does their best to keep their identity hidden. If they notice us posted at the gate, they might simply flee.”

At an adjacent table, one of the caravan drivers slaps the tabletop with the palm of his hand, declaring that when he returns to Ironguard Motte, he intends to demand an increase in pay. ”That bloody road has been mad of late! I’ve contended with two bands of goblin raiders on the last three runs! Blasted creatures have gotten emboldened somehow.”

Malivoire, meanwhile, brings his empty glass to the bar. Taycee gives him a warm smile and fills it.

Malivoire leaned his elbows on the bar as he waited for the glass of wine.  It seemed he exchanged a few pleasantries with Taycee as she worked.


"Thank you for the wine.  Please let the cook know the food is hearty and filling," he said when she finished, patting his belly for emphasis.  Leaving the bar, the mage returned to the table and retook his seat.

"I was thinking the same, Ynes. I'm sure we can find a spot to hide while watching. And, thanks. I welcome not having to sit on my own."

 Guilt must be driving Dilemmas actions, as well, for twenty-five gold coins went into the collection pot from her!  To be completely honest, had she hurled magical darkness at the Balor's eyes, they might have remained down below.  That might also have made for unpleasant surprises upon the group's return, though...

---

Thinking more on her darkness, Dilemma has a thought as she eats and listens to her newer companions.  Darkness.  Illusions.  Hiding.  Obscurement.  Wait!

 "I've illusions and obscurements I can offer if those would help any..." She is speaking to Dax.  "And, Charley helps my eyesight in the dark, so I might be able to notice things that elude you."

In reply to Billworth Turgen (msg # 84):

"Turgen," said the young knight as he replaced his boots, "I feel compelled to speak plainly with you. My companions spoke with you earlier about a matter. After that conversation they learned more about this person we're trying to find. One of the details Dax discovered was that this man was wearing the type of boots we've been discussing just now. It would be very helpful if you could tell me whom you've supplied those boots to. You're not in any sort of trouble, nor are you under any obligation to do so... But if you did, you'd be doing Helix and likely the Duchy a very good turn. I will keep this between us until such a time as it might be needed as evidence. Will you give me those names Turgen?"

Taycee brings the last plates of food and a fresh pot of tea to the table shortly after Malivoire returns. ”Does anyone need anything else? Ale? Wine? Another helping of food?”

”I would certainly welcome your help, Dilemma,” Ynes volunteers, ”I’ve done a bit of fighting at night. Raiding a bandit camp or two. But, just as in the tombs, in the deep darkness, I’m virtually blind.”

”I know you’d not ask without good reason,” the merchant says, ”Give me just a moment.” He retreats into an adjoining room.

Several minutes pass and Turgen emerges with a handwritten list on a piece of parchment, which he hands to the knight. ”Not too many, actually. That’s all who have bought a pair in the last two years.”

 Dilemma sniffs at the human's visual disadvantage.  Yes, she remembered her father bumping into things at night... tumbling down the stairs... landing on his feet, but still cursing.  Remembered her magical tutor having her guide her from one room to the next when a scroll mishap caused all of the candles in her sanctum to explode.  "Hmm... Would that I could do something for your eyes.  But, I can stand by them."

"Does he now? You're a very helpful companion, Charly!" He gives the feline a little scratch behind the ears.

"You are, of course, welcome to join us, Dilemma. I hope we encounter our prey so our time is not wasted."

In reply to Billworth Turgen (msg # 98):

Sir Dryvyk looked over the list with his brow furrowed. "I appreciate this Master Turgen." His gaze seemed to go distant as if he were looking beyond the walls of the trading post. He might have been peering into the dark depths of the Barrowmoors. "I pray that one day the dark influence of yonder swamp will be lifted!"

The young knight came back to himself with a powerful sigh. "If you would be so kind as to order me a pair of those boots, my poor feet would thank you!" He pulled out a coin purse to make the deposit.

"I'd best find the others. Gib, please gather the supplies we need to replenish with our gracious proprietor here and Andryr will accompany me. We'll meet up when you're ready. Thank you again Master Turgen, may St. Ygg smile upon your endeavors."

Sir Dryvyk clasped hand with the outfitter and left his grizzled squire to handle a quartermaster's concerns.


OOC: Meet up with the gang.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:30, Fri 03 Feb 2023.

Did he really do that? He couldn't have. He had.

He turns to Mal in disbelief after he returns to the table, "Did you just rub your belly in front of Taycee? Do you think she's slow? She wouldn't understand what you meant without caressing yourself in front of her? Don't tell me that was a traditional Elven courtship ritual?"

OOC
We'll show that list to Taycee to find out where they live/who they are.

 Charley flicks his ears, and then leans into the scratching.  "Mm.  Each familiar, no matter how silly their mage or others might think them, adds something to the game..." She looks the ranger over.  "I'm surprised those in your orders don't have them!"

 "Just say 'when'."

"For one who portrays himself as a wise and learned man, you behave childishly a great deal," Malivoire retorted, brushing off Barnabus' jibe.

He leaned forward over the table and spoke in a low voice.  "In fact I uncovered another possible lead on our mysterious figure, but we should discuss it in more private surroundings.  This place is too public."

Dax laughs, "I'm not sure that Charley would enjoy being out in the woods for days at a time, hunting goblins or stalking orcs! That's the typical life for rangers.

Although, those who have been at it for a long time do eventually learn to cast some spells. If I gain that expertise, I will definitely look to gain a familiar like Charley!

As to watching the south gates, I think tonight might be as good a time as any. Unless there are other plans being concocted" he points at Malivoire and Barnabus.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:28, Fri 03 Feb 2023.

(OOC)
We can return to our patron to review our findings in private.

Sir Dryvyk and Andryr arrive at The Brazen Strumpet a short time later. Together, the party makes the brief journey back to Mazzahs’ spire.

In his laboratory, the wizard is busy with studying the necromancer’s robe, the garment sheathed in a steady blue glow when the adventurers arrive. Mazzahs is delighted to see Sir Dryvyk once more and greets the knight and his squire warmly.

”Have you learned anything of the one we suspect of being involved in dark deeds within the tombs?” he inquires.

Taking a seat at one of the many benches in the workshop, Barnabus answers in the affirmative and further adds that they had had some fine tea and that, maybe, just maybe, that Mal had been able to advance his courtship of Taycee.

"We're looking for a man, most like, broad-shouldered at that, who lives in the western part of town. For his night forays, he dresses all in black from hood to boots. Sir has a list of buyers of swamp walkers. Mal also has his own discovery."

"And you can cross Harold Huffnpuff off your list. He's got a rock solid alibi."

Malivoire ignored Barnabus' little dig in front of Mazzahs and instead addressed their recently returned knight.  "Sir Dryvyk, can we see the list you were provided please?  I'm wondering how it aligns with some of our other suspicions."

When Sir Dryvyk complied, Malivoire bent over the list and scanned it quickly.  It appeared he was looking for someone in particular.

"We are planning to keep watch on the southern gates tonight, to see if we can spot our man."

"Unless we can surprise the ****stain in his filthy bedsit," puts in Barnabus. He turns to Dax, "That doesn't mean that you, Ynes, and the cat can't have your campout."

Malivoire's finger, which had been tracing down the list, came to a rest on one name.  He nodded slightly, but then looked up from the record in response to the exchange between Barnabus and Dax.

"We don't have any proof of anything, just yet.  I don't think barging in on someone we suspect and hauling them out of their home will endear us to anyone in town.  We need to know more than someone has been sneaking about in the night.  We need to know what they are actually up to."  He looked to Dax, Ynes and Dilemma.  "That's what the nighttime team must find out."

He glanced back down at the list, tapping at the last name.  "And I suggest we begin with the new acolyte at the church, Gamdar.  His name is on the list of those who bought the moor boots, and Taycee also confided in me that she has seen him out in the middle of the night, skulking around."

An exasperated Barnabus expostulates, "But... but... we have enough to lock the bastard up! Put him away! The fen footwear ... the hooded robe ... the ... the ... general skulkiness!"

Then, the curate's excitability turns in another direction and he gives his mop of hair a vigorous scratch.

"Why not return to the shrine on some pretext or other and have Sir sniff him out? Giv'em the ol' fish eye, if you follow my meaning."

"Insinuating his evil self into the shrine--them's goods enough," he finishes, daring any to contradict him.

Prime Suspect
Gamdar
This message was last edited by the player at 23:09, Sat 04 Feb 2023.

"Malivoire is right. Skulking about at night might be suspicious, but it is not proof of taking innocents into the Barrow for sacrifice! We need some sort of evidence, not just a suspicion."

"Dax looks at the priest questioningly, "Are you thinking that Gamdar might be able to hide his evil intent from Brother Othar? and the others at the temple?"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 23:35, Sun 05 Feb 2023.

"Two thoughts, no, three thoughts!"

He punctuates the delivery of each successive thought with a brandished finger.

"One, if they have no reason to suspect him, they won't -- and no paladin knocking about there either."

"Two, even if they do, he might have a means of disguising his nature. Dilemma can sniff out any magical deception."

"Third: Gamdar...gamdar...RAM...RAM..dag...RAM...gad."

"How about Ram God!"

"Now, if those aren't the goods staring you in the face, you're in the wrong line of work, bub. We've got this guy dead to rights."

Barnabus now stands before the assembled with three fingers splayed out before him. A globule of drool depends perilously from the corner of his mouth.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:57, Sun 05 Feb 2023.

In the wake of Barnabus’ excited theorizing, the adventurers return to the Shrine of St. Ygg. The church has grown quiet in the late afternoon and when the party enters the narrow sanctuary, they find the room primarily empty. Only Cella is present, lighting incense in a series of four hanging censers behind the altar.

”Greetings again,” the acolyte says with a nod, ”Did you need to speak with Brother Othar? He is reading in his study.”
This message was last updated by the player at 20:26, Mon 06 Feb 2023.

"Yes, please do," Barnabus answers.

On the way to the brother's study, he asks, "Gamdar all done for the day?"

”Oh, no. There are always tasks that need to be seen to,” Cella replies, ”Gamdar has some skill in candle making. He has said that it was to be his profession before he entered the service of St. Ygg. He is in the kitchen at present, making candles for the sanctuary.”

She knocks politely on the study door, then pulls it open.

Othar is seated at his austere writing desk, a thick volume with pages yellowed from age open before him. He glances up, fatigue evident on his features. ”Good afternoon. What brings you back? Is everything well?”

Speaking in a voice that can only be heard by those in the study, Barnabus methodically lays out their suspicions about Gamdar, the coulda' been a chandler.

When he is finished, he calmly makes it known that Brother Othar can add or subtract to those suspicions with answers to two questions, "One, how did he come to serve at the shrine?" and "Two, does he live west of market square?" after which he proposes that they repair to the kitchen to brew a pot of late afternoon tea so that Sir Dryvyk can survey all that he might see.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:34, Tue 07 Feb 2023.

The young knight had been lost in thoughts of his own, tumbling the list over in his mind like stones churning in the wash of a swift mountain stream, the likes of which were found in Drakeholme, but certainly not in the fetid swamps of the Barrowmoor. He was uncomfortable with the zeal with which Barnabus would administer justice. Sir Dryvyk had a distaste for evil greater than that of most the party had probably ever met, but there seemed to be something they were missing... or perhaps he himself was missing.

As they walked together, Sir Dryvyk wrestled with his own prejudices against his rival. He realized that, in his mind, he was just as quick to condemn Ollis Blackfell as Barnabus was with Gamdar. His hand began to ache dully and he realized that his knuckles were white as he gripped the worn leather of his sword hilt.

His discomfort grew when they returned to the shrine and met with Brother Othar. "Brother, I confess that these are very disturbing allegations, and I would that they had never been brought up against one of our Order... however, our own sacred writings warn us against infiltration and rot from within. I've faith that the God of Righteousness will grant me insight with regard to Gamdar. I sincerely hope that Barnabus is mistaken..."

Brother Othar listens attentively to both Barnabus and Sir Dryvyk as they discuss Gamdar and the suspicions surrounding him. After they finish speaking, the cleric is silent for a few moments.

When he speaks again, it is to address Barnabus’ questions. ”As Helix grew, both in population and commerce, I began to see that the needs of the congregants here were becoming difficult for only I and Cella to meet. I sent a letter north, asking if the larger church could spare an acolyte for the shrine here. Gamdar is who was sent. It is my understanding that he volunteered for the posting.”

“Gamdar is hard working, but very private. He has been open to both instruction and correction in the months he has served here, but I confess I do not know a great deal about his life prior to his arrival in Helix. He is a quiet young man.”

Othar nods. ”Gamdar was given quarters in a cottage on the village’s west side, one that had stood empty for more than a year. The former owner had been trampled to death while traveling in a caravan to Ironguard Motte.”

“I share your hope that these suspicions prove groundless, Sir Dryvyk. But, we who are called to St. Ygg’s service must be willing to give an answer for both our actions and the motives that drive them.”

Standing, he motions for the advent to follow him. ”Come,” he says.

As Cella had indicated, the group find Gamdar seated at a table in the shrine’s small kitchen, inspecting the wicks on a dozen recently made candles. He sets the work down and stands as Othar and the adventurers enter.

”Forgive the interruption, Gamdar,” Brother Othar says, ”These good people are involved in investigating happenings in the Barrowmoor to the south. They wanted to speak with you for a moment.”

Gamdar turns his attention to the company members. ”How may I be of help to you?” he asks.

Before Barnabus could launch into a verbal assault of his suspect, Sir Dryvyk laid a gauntleted hand on the strange man's arm. When Barney looked over, the young knight gave a slow shake of his head. There was a look of relief in his eyes.

"Forgive our intrusion acolyte Gamdar, we have a few questions which we hope you'll be able to help us with."

Sir Dryvyk removed his hand, giving his go ahead.

Barnabus knew he had questions but all the ones that were ready to spill forth were the wrong ones.

Stuttering at first, he follows up on Sir's lead, "Yes... yes... yes... we do. As Brother Othar said, we've, well, really, too many, disturbing discoveries in the barrows to recount here and now."

"Here is the one before us now: an agent of Orcus has been operating out of the west side," Barnabus begins before sharing what they know with the acolyte.

"Now, as you can see, certain of those particulars were troubling with respect to you. However, seeing them in another light... having benefited from divine insight... well...maybe it's you who has seen something that could advance our investigation since your habits...lead you to odd places at odd hours."

Looks like we're back to Harold HuffnPuff as our prime suspect.
One must ask why Taycee fingered Gamdar...

Gamdar nods in understanding, shifting his broad shoulders. ”I do leave the shrine late at night at times. There are some herbs that grow on the border of the moor that bloom in the dark of evening. I gather them for their curative properties. Some that we serve here require them for illnesses that are difficult to be rid of,” the acolyte explains.

”I have not seen anyone suspicious while attending to those errands. There are some who are still leaving the taverns at those times, but most are simply going to their homes.”

Brother Othar frowns as Gamdar speaks, giving the impression that the cleric was unaware of the young man’s nighttime activities.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:13, Thu 09 Feb 2023.

Barnabus takes it all in. It doesn't sit well with him.

A slow smile spreads across his face. It occurs to him that he has been presented with some rope and there is only one thing to do with rope in such artful exchanges. Give it back to Gamdar in coils so there is only thing he can do with it.

"Is that so?" the curate of Impurax replies with equanimity. "Such herbs would doubtless be of interest to the shrine and ourselves. It would appear that you have just completed such ... a harvest. I trust that you don't reserve these healing herbs just for your own purposes?"

His smile broadens but his tone remains level.

"We have become quite intimate with the moors and their ... points of interest. Where have you been digging up your curative ... offerings?"

”No, of course. They’re available to any who might have need of them,” Gamdar answers. He points to the kitchen doorway. ”The basket with what I’ve gathered most recently is in the closet to the left, where the vestments are stored.”

12:35, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 1 using 1d6.  Initiative - Party.

12:36, Today: Gamdar rolled 3 using 1d6.  Initiative.

As the attention of some in the kitchen shifts to the indicated closet, Gamdar, demonstrating a surprising degree of athleticism, jumps onto a nearby table and throws himself though the kitchen window, rolling as he hits the muddy ground outside and staggering to his feet. He immediately begins to run, his arms pumping as he starts for the village square, heading south.

OOC: 12:49, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 1 using 1d3.  Damage - Glass.

The “acolyte” takes a point of damage from the shattered glass.

The party may act.

Besides the now broken window, there is a door at the rear of the kitchen that leads outside. Alternatively, the party may head for the main doors of the sanctuary, which open directly onto the village square.

To be clear, although Gamdar has started to run, he is only about fifteen feet away from the shrine.

Gamdar has an armor class of 5.

Shaking his head softly, Barnabus clambers outside the kitchen through the conveniently shattered window. Once outside, he squares up and concentrates on arresting the flight of the Gamdar with an invocation of divine aid.

Finally a chance for Mal to spin his web!
Cast Hold Person on Gamdar. -2 save for just having the one target.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:46, Thu 09 Feb 2023.

Even as Gamdar seems to find some momentum for his escape, he abruptly freezes in mid-stride, seized by a sudden paralysis.

Across the square, a pair of caravan drivers regard the unmoving acolyte with curious frowns.

21:41, Today: Gamdar rolled 9 using 1d20-2.  Save vs Spells.

Gamdar will remain held for 9 turns. During that time, he will be unable to take any action, including speech.

The knight's eyes flashed, the look of relief turned to disappointment, then to alarm all in a blink. He rushed to the door, the order to his squire, Andryr, to bring the horses was upon his lips, but then he saw their strange mystical companion muttering and making facial contortions...

Sir Dryvyk was unsure as to the powers Barnabus had at his employ, or if interference would break the spell. He stood ready to tackle the acolyte should binding powers falter.

"Andryr, please fetch a rope from our supplies. Quickly."

"Gamdar, you'd best relent. I have no idea what Barnabus is capable of, but resistance will only make it worse."

Emotions battled within the heart of the young knight whose devotion to his God was sincere and complete. How Gamdar? How could you deceive us so?

Dax dashes for the door, but pulls up when he sees that Barnabus' magicks have frozen Gamdar in place.

"Well done, Barnabus!"

The ranger helps Andryr to truss up the miscreant cleric.

Barnabus admires Dax's feat of ligature, but he had omitted another measure, one to be applied even though Gamdar (and his tongue) had been rendered sessile. Reaching into his pack, he retrieves a few of his moldier rags, having been used previously to wipe away blood, gore, and grave dust.

"Gag'm," he instructs, handing the rags to the forester.

He then turns to Brother Othar and says gently, "You do know his name was nearly an acronym for an appellation for his master?" And that he needed a curate of Impurax to root out corruption within his shrine. He'll be sharing that the next convocation of St. Ygg, alright.

"We will deliver him to Mazzahs' for safekeeping and questioning. Brother Othar, as a fellow protector of Helix, you should participate." You can cozy up with your books and papers when you're done.

Deliver Gamdar to Mazzahs and then go turn over Gamdar's bedsit.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 15:18, Fri 10 Feb 2023.

Malivoire was too slow to effectively aid in the apprehension of Gamdar, bulk of the work done by Barnabus, Dax and Sir Dryvyk.  The mage watched with interest as the trio bound and gagged the priest, lest he work foul magics in an attempt to escape again.  But he wondered how the man had evaded the paladin's detection in the kitchen.

Perhaps there are limitations to the holy senses of our knight, he mused to himself.  Does he only detect immediate evil intent as opposed to a rotten core?  People were complicated, and very few were what Malivoire would consider outright evil all the time.  Perhaps that was a limitation in Sir Dryvyk's ability.  Something they would have to watch out for.

When Barnabus declared they were taking Gamdar to Mazzahs the elf's eyes immediately moved to Brother Othar.  He thought the priest might object, perhaps rightfully feeling this was a church matter more than something arcane.  To Malivoire the 'where' did not matter much, so long as they got answers from the prisoner.

Othar’s usually stoic demeanor has yielded to distress in the wake of Gamdar’s apprehension. The priest offers no opposition to taking the acolyte to Mazzahs.

Upon reaching the spire’s laboratory with their captive, the adventurers find Mazzahs pacing back and forth, muttering quietly to himself, plainly deep in thought. As the company members enter, along with Brother Othar, the wizard snaps out of his contemplations, regarding Gamdar with surprise.

”Truly? Hiding in plain sight, as it were.” Mazzahs supplies a straight backed chair where the false acolyte can be secured.

”Much of this failing rests with me,” Othar says, ”I am generally sensitive to the presence of evil. In fact, I seek to be vigilant for it. I did not ever sense anything sinister with Gamdar. But, I fear I did not look closely enough. My attention has been focused on external threats, keeping the village warded against the undead in the south. I trusted that the northern church had examined him thoroughly.”

“I am truly sorry.”

Mazzahs waves away the priest’s apology. ”We are each doing the best we are able. There is no end to the cleverness of those of evil intent. Each time we encounter darkness, we must endeavor to learn its ways, to be better prepared for future conflicts.”

The wizard prepares to remove the gag, but stops himself. Glancing back at the gathered adventurers, he asks, ”How did you come to determine that Orcus’ agent was Gamdar?”

Animatedly, Barnabus launches into a response: "They are fiendishly clever. Too much so for their own good. Consider the pride of this one: growing and growing with each day spent under our nose."

"Mazzahs, you ask how we came to know that he was Orcus's ram lamb?" the curate rhetorically states, having slipped into the role of pedant in his excitement. "He exposed himself with his cover story, pocked with so many holes so as to not even warrant being called threadbare. He had been seen, you see, skulking about at night. The span of his shoulders and his taste in footwear had also been noted, you will note."

The lecturer turns to face the gagged and bound cultist, his tone lapsing into condescension: "If you'd only had a decent cover, you might have bought yourself some time to slip sway. You don't think that I, a priest of Impurax, don't know a fig about the local fauna? Healing herbs harvested by the light of the moon? I think not. Would not Brother Othar have noted the success of your remedies? I should think so."

"Such hubris," he continues, losing himself in his monologue, "so typical from the likes of you. We destroyed your crypt thing, your shadows, your priests -- we have disinterred the whole bloody lot of them for our casual perusal."

"Who do you think will be wearing that suit of leather?" he says with mockery.

Here, he remembers himself.

"Speaking of which, Ishmael, please search Gamdar and relieve him of any of his devices, one of which might have served to conceal his true nature."

"But, really, Mazzahs, it came down to his ultimate act of pride: naming himself after Orcus.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:16, Fri 10 Feb 2023.

"No need to apologise, Brother Othar. You, along with Mazzahs, dealt with a demon in short order. You both protect the town. Being deceived by one like him is not a failing."

Dax then falls silent as Barnabus launches into his near incomprehensible explanation.

Sir Dryvyk stood brooding near Brother Othar. He wasn't sure what to say, if anything. He responded to the obviously upset curate. "I too am usually able to detect the presence of evil. The gifts granted me by God are precious and I seek always to be worthy of them."

The young knight gestured in the direction of the swamplands, "In yonder moor, I can feel the presence of such ilk from twenty paces! But this acolyte, well, I've detected nothing of the sort. So either I've lost my gifts... this lad's particularly adept at hiding it... or he's simply a pawn, a subject of something more powerful, whose stench I cannot smell even in its presence."

"Master Mazzahs, Gamdar fled from us, a desperate act. He should answer for his actions. It is written that evil subjects those who dabble in it, they become slaves to vice and guilt in an ever downward spiral. Something has compelled this lad, we would do well do discover what it is."

Ishmael pads down the acolyte in short order, turn over his pockets and pouches.  "I'll go check his room and study." he offers.

Malivoire raised an eyebrow as Barnabus embellished the story of Gamdar's detection and apprehension, but he trusted Mazzahs to see through the window dressing and to the heart of the matter.  Gamdar certainly had something serious to hide, even if he wasn't an agent of Orcus.  Hopefully between the master wizard and Brother Othar the truth would out quickly.

Ishmael quickly searches the still paralyzed Gamdar. The young man carries little. In the lone pouch that the acolyte has on his belt, Ishmael finds four silver coins, a worn piece of parchment with the word “Azeris” written on it, and a thin chain of dark metal, from which hangs a triangular charm inscribed with many arrows traveling away from a central point.


Mazzahs takes particular interest in the amulet when it is passed to him. Studying it, he nods solemnly and says, ”It is by way of this that he was able to conceal his true nature from the village.”

The wizard places his hand on Gamdar’s head and speaks a few words. The young man is suddenly loosed from his frozen state and begins struggling uselessly against his bonds. Looking to the adventurers, Mazzahs says, ”Perhaps you have questions you wish to pose to him first? You are the ones who identified him, after all.”

As he asks the question, the wizard removes the prisoner’s gag.

Sir Dryvyk gasped as the charm was removed and then bit back a curse Ol' Gib would have been proud of, but was certainly unbecoming of a knight, especially in the presence of Brother Othar and the ladies.

"In light of this, Ishmael shouldn't go alone. Andryr would you please accompany him? If you should spot Ol' Gib on the way, take him and Ranger with you.".

Then the young knight drew his sword and rested it point on the floor, no telling what further surprises might become manifest...

"As a knight of St. Ygg, I'm sworn to destroy evil. Your deception has offended my sense of empathy. I gave you the benefit of the doubt. At a word from our host and patron, or from Brother Othar, I will gladly dispatch you. Until that moment, think very hard and see if you can find something useful to say for yourself."

"Who in the Barrow is your master?"

Barnabus retrieves one of the many parchments from his pack, this one with the beginnings of a map of the barrows: "Add to this. Use your words."

He points to the word on Gamdar's parchment: "What does this signify?"

"Who are those within the Tomb of Nildayr?" he asks.

The last things the detective curate demands to know are the details of his criminal operation and how long before his "broad shoulders and loping gait" will be missed.

"Naturally, Mazzahs is telepathic so give up on the lies. He's just being considerate by giving us first dibs."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:06, Mon 13 Feb 2023.

Gamdar glares sullenly at Sir Dryvyk as the knight addresses him, but says nothing.

”I serve the high priests of Orcus,” Gamdar tells Dax, ”We seek the means to ensure the mighty one’s ascension to rulership over the underworld, and over all of the dead who linger on this plane. We fight against the servants of Set, who would seek to claim what is not rightfully theirs. And we struggle against Varghoulis, who would claim the tombs for his own, in the name of his perished deity.”

Gamdar dictates a few instructions to Barnabus, expanding on the map that the cleric has shown him.

”It is a word that must be spoken to access a hidden vault within the catacombs. A magical means of opening the door,”</darkgreen> he replies, in answer to Barnabus’ question about the parchment Ishmael found on his person.

The young man frowns momentarily as he considers the next question, then shakes his head, ”That tomb is a ruse. A clever deception intended to capture tomb robbers intent on plundering the maze. There is no one interred there.”

His eyes cut over to the amulet in Mazzahs’ hand, then back to Barnabus. ”They will know when the charm leaves my possession. Its absence will inform them that my true purpose has been revealed.”
This message was last edited by the player at 15:17, Mon 13 Feb 2023.

"The moment it separates from your body," Baranbus postulates, returning the charm to Gamdar's person. "Or might small lapses go unnoticed?"

"Tell us more about the secret vault. Does it have any protections beyond the password?"

But in the next breath, he exclaims, "But, I mean, really, traipsing about with the word itself? You're just inviting the next band of tomb raiders to plunder it."

"You do know this area is lousy with such miscreants?"

"How did you lure your victims to the maze? Gambling debts?"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:03, Mon 13 Feb 2023.

”I was directed to the chamber through correspondence,” Gamdar says, ”The word gives entrance to what appears to be a sealed tomb. I am told there is a guardian, but I have never seen or encountered it. It was told of me before I first visited the vault.”

“I lured them to the swamplands with numerous false promises. Most involved wealth. There were many who frequented The Foul Pheasant who were infected with greed.”

When Barnabus returns the amulet, Gamdar exclaims, ”No! Do not…” As the charm touches the imposter once more, it briefly shimmers with a crimson light. Gamdar regards it fearfully, but aside from the transitory glow, nothing further occurs.
This message was last updated by the player at 21:35, Mon 13 Feb 2023.

Barnabus marvels. With every mystery dissected, another sprang to life.

"Alright, then. We're off to your flat. I expect Mazzahs will keep you for a spell, with a spell, or for spell components. It's all the same to me."

Off to the digs of Gamdar.

"Wait," Malivoire said, as Barnabus breezed past Gamdar's last protest.  "Why not hand you back the amulet?" he asked, turning on the evil priest. "What were you afraid of?"

The brief glow that had shimmered over the surface of the charm had not been lost on Malivoire.  He wanted to know the significance, in case it mattered more than it might appear.

 Dilemma speaks next.  "Yes... What magics are woven into this amulet?" She pauses for a beat, and then continues.  "Tell us or not, we'll find out eventually, although additional context always helps and might even entitle you to a last meal."

 Reaching back to stroke Charley and looking Gamdar in the eyes, she says, "It's very striking, don't you think?  I wonder if we couldn't get someone to purge the magics from it and work it into your collar..." Charley looks at the priest and makes a chirping noise.

Gamdar continues to regard the amulet fearfully. ”I was told that the charm came directly from Orcus’ caverns within the abyss. The work of his own infernal servants. The priests said that if the charm became separated from me, that my allegiance would be plain to all. That my efforts would be known to have failed. Trying to take up the amulet again would…”

A circle of blazing crimson light suddenly manifests on the floor surrounding Gamdar’s chair. The acolyte shrieks. Othar begins to intone a prayer and Mazzahs starts reciting an incantation, but before either can finish, a single, blackened hand, larger in size than the tallest of the adventurers, rises from the circle below. Smoke curls from its flesh and gray bone can be seen through rents in its skin. The hand snaps closed around the wailing Gamdar and in a single, quick motion pulls him down into the circle. Both vanish from sight as the blood red circle fades.

The chair the acolyte sat in is nothing but a charred ruin which collapses to the stone floor along with the amulet, which lands with a soft jingle.

Barnabus looks upon the abduction of Gamdar with both horror and fascination.

In the end, he can only throw up his hands, "He shoulda said something. Why didn't he say anything? There is a time to be tight-lipped and a time to flap the lips."

"Well, it's not like the servants of Orcus are known for making good life choices."

Cough. Right. Off to his now abandoned flat.

 Dilemma starts, and snarls at the hand as it appears... Charley swishes his tail violently, and growls.  When the... hand grabs Gamdar and the charm falls to the ground, she pauses for several seconds and then picks it up... by the chain.  "You are going to Mazzahs.  Later..."

Sir Dryvyk had listened to Gamdar's confession with both contempt and empathy. The evil with which the young man had aligned himself was unforgiving. When the crimson glow appeared, the Paladin of St. Ygg felt filled with a revulsion unlike any he'd ever experienced. He saw Gamdar's eyes widen and heard the choked shriek begin to form...

The young Knight's hands seemed to respond with otherworldly speed. Almost before he knew what he was doing, Sir Dryvyk made an attempt to save Gamdar's soul from eternal torment! The sword of the Order of Night swept to take off the head of the errant acolyte. Sir Dryvyk would attempt to deprive Orcus of his prize!

Dax's jaw drops as the bright red light envelopes the trussed-up acolyte. He starts to draw his word without thinking, but before it can clear its sheathe, the light is gone along with Gamdar.

"Silvanus preserve us! What happened?"

With astounding speed, Sir Dryvyk swings his blade in a horizontal stroke, separating Gamdar’s head from his body an instant before he disappears in the demonic grasp of Orcus’ servant. The acolyte’s head, an expression of surprise frozen on its features, rolls to a gentle stop against Dilemma’s foot.

”Perhaps we should see that…Gamdar receives a proper burial,” Mazzahs suggests quietly.

Brother Othar, his lips pressed into a thin line, nods in silent agreement.

The cottage which Gamdar occupied is a small, single story structure on the western edge of Helix. A pair of long unused wooden racks, of the sort used to dry hides, suggests that the humble residence was once occupied by a tanner or trapper.

The lone door into the house reveals that it consists of a single, sparsely furnished room. A small stone hearth occupies one side of the unadorned chamber, a table and two chairs arranged a short distance from it. A lantern, along with two vials of oil and a book, sit atop the table.

A narrow, wood framed bed with a straw mattress sits against the eastern wall. A small wooden chest has been placed at the foot of the bed. A trapdoor, leading into a cellar, sits a few steps away from the northern wall.

Sir Dryvyk bowed his head, clutching his sword in shaking hands, and offered a quiet prayer on behalf of the errant acolyte. When he finally turned to follow the others from the tower, there were tears glistening at the corners of his eyes though they refused to fall. He simply nodded to Brother Othar who would now deal with the aftermath of the deeds of Gamdar.

"Only after his head and his tale have been presented to Krothos," someone chirps on their way out.

~~~

"Doesn't even have a sitting room," critiques Barnabus after the investigators have entered the cottage.

While the cottage presented more than a few temptations, the visionary's inner eye beholds a panorama of images: the death rattle of a master locksmith; the crash of a massive slab onto the floor of a tomb; the apocalyptic runes on the necromancer's sarcophagus; ... ; ... .

Prudently, he casts Find Traps before directing Ishmael to see about the chest and the trapdoor.

The curate himself has a look through the book, providing that it doesn't bear any ominous wards or sigils. The pride of Gamdar, after all, suggested that he felt safer than his competency warranted.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:28, Wed 15 Feb 2023.

Malivoire stepped back and threw up an arm in defense when the column of hellish light enveloped Gamdar.  The rest happened so fast - the beginning of spells, the appearance of a giant black hand from the netherworld, and Sir Dryvyk's grant of mercy just as the hand dragged what remained of Gamdar down into the depths of the Nine Hells.  He watched with wide eyes as Dilemma picked up the amulet, unable to find words after such a horrific event.

He remained introspective as the group left the tower, lost in dark thoughts about playing with powers beyond one's ken.
~~~~~~~~~

In the acolyte's cottage Malivoire joined Barnabus at the table, inspecting the book's pages as the priest flipped through it.

The divine insight imparted to Barnabus reveals no traps upon the chest or trapdoor, or anywhere else within the cottage's single room.

The book on the table is a history of the expansion of the church of St. Ygg into the northeastern frontier, the area encompassing the Duchy of Aerik and several neighboring territories.

Dax walks to Gamdar's cottage in silence. Entering, he watches as Ishmael examines the chest and Barnabus and Malivoire pore over the book.

"Could you check the cellar door too, Ishmael? Gods know what might be hidden in there."

The ranger moves to the fireplace and examines it, for loose stones or anything else that might appear out of place.

"It's not trapped," Baranbus comments, referring to the cellar door, as he leafs through the book. Probably background material for his role.

The chest at the foot of the bed does not have a lock. It contains only clothing, the simple robes which Gamdar wore at the shrine, along with a pair of leather shoes.

Opening the trapdoor, Ishmael can see that the small cellar below has a dirt floor. A set of wooden shelves to the right of the ladder that descend into the room is mostly empty, save for a few dry foodstuffs. Another chest, this one secured with an iron lock, sits against the room’s western wall.

Feeling about the hearth, Dax finds a loose stone on the fireplace’s right side. It pulls free with a little effort, revealing a small compartment which holds a leather bound book, along with a bottle of ink and a quill.

"Mal! Dilemma! You might want to take a look at this...or not!"

Providing the locked chest isn't trapped (two turn duration for Find Traps), Barnabus waits patiently while Ishmael divests it of its lock.

Sir Dryvyk joined the search on his own way, making his way carefully around the abode while murmuring prayers of insight and guidance.

OOC: Evil Detector (On)/Off

Malivoire gave up on the tome dedicated to St. Ygg when Dax called out.  He agreed with Barnabus about the first volume, which was likely out in the open for show.  The book Dax had discovered likely contained something much more pertinent to Gamdar's real inclinations.

"Let's see that," he asked Dax with interest, reaching out a hand to take the book.  Motioning for Dilemma to join him at the table while the others moved into the cellar, the mage pushed aside the book of St. Ygg and laid out the secreted tome for examination.  After checking the exterior for any signs or indications, Malivoire gingerly opened the cover to see what lay within.

Barnabus’ divinely imbued insight reveals no traps on the chest in the cellar, nor anywhere else within the small underground room. For Sir Dryvyk, the chest below gives off a faint, but easily perceived, aura of evil.

Taking the discovered book to the table, Malivoire pages through it, quickly discerning that it is a journal that Gamdar kept since taking residence in Helix. The entries, written in a spidery script, fill up roughly half of the book. Malivoire and Dilemma estimate that it would require perhaps two to three hours of study to read the journal in its entirety.

The last entry catches Malivoire’s attention:

”I have allowed fear of discovery to stay my hand for too long. There is no doubt that the barmaid saw me about my errands in the darkness and while she may have no cause to ever speak of the matter, the fact that she knows of my movements presents a threat to my service to the Lord of Undeath.”

“Taycee is known by many in Helix, and unlike many who I have made sacrifice of, her disappearance will not go unnoticed. It is that fact which has made hesitant. But, in the absence of the Foul Pheasant, it can be argued that some of the miscreants who spent their hours there, ruffian traders and thieves from Bogtown, will be in search of something else to entertain themselves, an entirely plausible reason for Taycee vanishing.”

“I will have to exercise care when I take her captive. I must be sure to act when she is walking alone and still some distance from the mill. Hendon and his family are said to have sharp ears.”

Barnabus feels a thrill at the detection of the malign taint incommensurate with its magnitude. He would like to have it opened, here and now, to discover what lurks within. Still, all things considered, it would be best to bring it back to their patron before unlocking it.

He studies it in silence for a few minutes. It's not breathing, is it?

If not, he instructs Ishmael to lift it straight up, lest any inimical markings be hidden beneath, the disruption of which might usher in a minor, rather than a major, apocalypse.

Tote the chest and the other items back to Mazzahs.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:05, Mon 20 Feb 2023.

The chest shows no signs of respiration. Moving it reveals no sigils or magical circles inscribed on the floor beneath it. Those who bring it up out of the cellar note that it is not especially heavy.

At the spire, the adventurers find Mazzahs and Brother Othar deep in conversation, along with Cella, who has joined the pair in the wizard’s laboratory. The entrance of the chest elicits a low growl from the invisible familiar in the iron cage.

Mazzahs sighs and nods. ”From Gamdar’s cottage. You were wise to bring it here before opening it. Did you find anything else of importance while you were there?”

Barnabus points at the journal that Malivoire still clutched: "A testimony to his dirty deeds -- done and to be done."

"And done dirt cheap," he adds. "Unless he stored his filthy lucre in his basement chest."

"We collared that child of Orcus just in time; he had his sights set on Taycee. She brews a marvelous pot of tea by the by."

But Barnabus deduces this is not the time for one of his rodomontades and so informs Mazzahs that they plan to return to the barrows in the morning but will check on the chest before they leave.

Malivoire nodded in confirmation of Gamdar's plans toward Taycee, a dark expression on his angular face.  Though he did add another comment on the journal.

"I think if the plan is to head back to the barrow tomorrow, it will be worth a few hours to pore through this diary first.  It may contain useful information regarding the tombs themselves and those within.  I'll just need a quiet place to go over it page by page."

He glanced at Dilemma and shrugged.  "Not exciting, but your welcome to join me if you're interested."

”I am glad that you acted when you did. Taycee is a kind hearted young woman,” Mazzahs says.

He glances back at Brother Othar, then to the company members. ”We will open the chest with great care, using all the means at our disposal to ensure the contents cannot cause harm. I will speak with you before you depart regarding its contents.”

“Rest in the meantime. The catacombs always present numerous dangers and challenges. You will need your strength.”

He nods to Malivoire and Dilemma. ”Should you learn anything of import from the journal, please be certain to tell me.”