Sri Lanka narrowly avoids killing party

Just another Snake Cult

A Google+ Hangout game is not the same as a face to face game. It’s not as real. There is no pizza, no clatter of dice and less ‘table talk’ as you try and cram as much game as you can into 2 to 3 hours. The stakes aren’t the same and so you can be forgiven for not taking it seriously. Milgos the mage/thief, a long standing PC, nearly perished in combat with a Dragon when he was reduced to just ‘attacking’ as the Sri Lankan’s closed in on Australia’s total. Milgos has a potent wand and an arsenal of spells all of which were forgotten as the excitement of a close finish in the cricket overcame the excitement of a combat with a dragon.

Events from the last game included:

• Encountering a camp of Goblins who had moved into the vacated Mountain Troll halls and scaring them off with the old Ring of Invisibility + booming voice trick.
• Joining forces with a band of ‘rogues’ whom I based on the group in Jule’s fortnightly Dragon Age game. This gave them enough character to allay suspicion. Which was just as well as the group were happy to recruit them to assist in the battle with the Dragon.
• A temple to Yig the father of serpents was searched. A fiendish trap was outwitted and the Cobra Codex liberated. The priest Chuck contemplated destroying the relics of Yig but reconsidered and during a particularly hectic and desperate battle reluctantly called on Yig to send serpents to aid him.
• A wall of crystals was bludgeoned and a Dragon, in the guise of an elf confronted them. While in elf form the Dragon was ambushed and pummeled badly. Losing the initiative, his carefully laid plan fell apart and he reverted to dragon form and began the killing.
• The rogues turned on the party and were revealed to be Dopplegangers causing Chuck to cry “WHAT FOUL BETRAYAL IS THIS?”  The monsters teamed with the Dragon and looked to be on the verge of destroying the party. A single Dragon can be isolated and worn down quickly, in this situation he lasted a turn or two longer.
• Milgos was saved from the Dragon’s bite by his Cloak of Displacement. This has proven to be a very potent item.
• Milgos was reduced to muttering “I attack” when the battle hung in the balance. Chuck was surrounded by Dopplegangers and one good hit from dying. Betty had been felled by acid breath. Chuck’s henchman was running and Milgos chose to stand toe to toe with a Dragon and simply swing his swords? Fortunately Milgos snapped out of his cricket induced befuddlement and used his Wand of Frost to snap freeze first the Dragon and then a Doppleganger. The tide had turned.
• The Dragon fell unconscious once bested as it had taken some subdual damage while ambushed in elf form. Milgos stabbed the incapacitated beast in the eye ending the scheming creatures life. With the Dragon defeated much treasure was gained.

The Dragon's lair was guarded by a wall of crystals

Minotaur smack-down and a choice - Drow or Dragon?

 Just like the party but with more powers

Players are right to fear the Drow. AD&D traditionally starts hard. You have a handful of hit points and have to scramble for your wins. Then you hit mid level and a buffer of hit points protect you from mistakes. The beasts of the monster manual fall before your might, particularly creatures that are sacks of hit points with no powers. Things seem easy. Which is why Gygax introduced Drow. Drow, like players, don’t play fair. They cast spells, use poison, have magic resistance and allow the DM to indulge in mean underhanded tactics. The kicker is their sweet loot, like Drow cloaks and adamantium chainmail, decay in the sunlight. The pay-off for battling them isn’t always great. Drow were Gygax’s leveler, they make things tough again.

Which is why I was a disappointed when the group decided to avoid drow territory preferring to take their chances dragon hunting. The group love killing dragons and rightly so, they tend to be rich!

Things that happened last game were:

• Milgos the mage thief, Betty the swordswoman, Chuck the priest and Ratnik the barbaric tribesman ventured into the silent halls of the Mountain Trolls. The signs of the Troll purge obvious to all. Great piles of burnt bones lay where the heroes had stacked them in pyres and the walls remained scarred from the assault of both magical fire and ice. Nothing was foolish enough to assault the band in this place.
• A Minotaur outpost was discovered with the beasts seizing the initiative, charging into the narrow confines of the tunnels to do battle. This made casting area effect spells a risky proposition. Milgos fled and was head butted twice by great bull headed men who pursued. Betty barely withstood the barrage of axe blows and Ratnik fell. Chuck kept folk alive by channeling Dunethain’s power into healing spells. Soon Ratnik was back in the fight, three Minotaurs were caught in a web and the tide turned. The party had been horribly mauled by their first encounter and retreated to the city of Khare to lick their wounds.
• In Khare Chuck scrounged some healing scrolls from the curators of the library which served as Dunethain's temple.
• The second venture saw Milgo’s scouting and as soon as he heard the lowing of Minotaurs he let fly with a devastating fireball into the darkness. The burning Minotaurs fled in panic, setting off a crossbow trap. Those not killed by the trap had their throats slit.
• The parties own dark elf assessed the trap and determined it was of Drow manufacture. He retrieved a number of bolts from the device then decided to leave what lay beyond the traps protection alone. As far as he knew the trap marked the beginning of Drow territory.
• The group turned north as Milgos recalled a tale of a dragon lairing in that direction. The northern tunnels where part of an abandoned mine. Many of the tunnels looked dangerously unstable with one collapsing before their eyes.
• Shrieking fungus sounded the alarm in a fungus covered chamber. Lizard like rooster creatures raced in to investigate. Chuck hurled a mine cart into the chamber disrupting a patch of yellow mold at a critical moment slaying two of the monsters.
• Past the abandoned mines and fungus the group found a snake temple. In a pillared hall a huge constrictor attacked them and at one point swallowed Ratnik. The henchman was spared the indignity of dying in a snake’s stomach as the party eviscerated the creature. Chuck was so incensed at the snakes audacity for swallowing one of the Dunethain's favoured that he hacked off the head of the beast, Conan style!
• An ominous pair of double doors was discovered beyond which the party suspect lairs the dragon. The dragon they hunt had defeated the party very early on in their careers, though Ugh is the only character to have survived that initial encounter. The band retreated to plan their next move.

Snakes often get chopped in the head

The Fane of St Toad

‘Ugh, a little help here.’ - Osric as he confronts the formless spawn.

In a hovel on the outskirts of a pig farm Mugwort, lay-priest and seer of Tsathoggua the demon toad, clutched his forehead and writhed in pain on the muddy floor. Rance, a fellow lay-priest, looked on with concern. ‘What do you see Mugwort?’

His companion struggled to answer through teeth clenched in pain. ‘I see the temple defiled. The shrine to the holy amphibious trinity, to St Toad himself has been breached by heathens.’

‘I see them set out on a forgotten path to the Fane. A half elf leads an armoured oaf and a Halfling wench. He holds a tattered map. It leads to the most sacred of sites. The place we had long thought lost they have found!’ Mugwort became excited and leapt to his feet. “We must go there at once!’

Rance placed a calming hand on Mugwort’s shoulder. ‘Calm yourself brother. It would take us many days to journey there, if indeed your vision would be enough to guide us. This group you mention reminds me of the Westwood Warriors. Tsathoggua knows them well for they have crossed him before. They slew our high priest many months ago. You will recall the massacre in the tunnels of Enlandrin. Odd though for they are missing their wizard. Tell me what else do you see?’

‘The intruders cross the threshold. They examine each thing in turn, the murals, altar and sacred font but they do so carefully for they are no fools. They regard the idols with cowed reverence for they know Tsathoggua’s power in this place. They can feel it. They are the flies in the house toads. The half elf is called by the darkness of an alcove. He trembles before the sacred idol of K’Tehe the Destroyer. Curiosity gets the better of him and he prods the formless spawn of Tsathoggua that lies dormant in an offering bowl. The ooze bubbles into life. They have awoken the guardian and will pay the price.’

‘That is the end of them. No one can stand before the fury of the formless spawn of Tsathoggua. A fitting end I say…’

‘Hold your celebrations for the vision continues. They battle in Tsathoggua’s sacred hall. Their steel does nothing. I see the formless spawn splitting and now there are two. The heathens realize their insignificance before such an implacable foe.  The bewildered look on their faces is a blessing from Tsathoggua. The half elf flees like a craven. The armoured oaf retreats to cower behind a pit. Like desperate fools they assault the spawn with furniture, they push at the sacred oozing forms with pews and altars. Woe! Oh great calamity! The spawn have been cast into the sacred pit, pushed in by the ludicrous failings of the heathens.’

‘All is not lost brother. The formless spawn will rise from the pit and finish them. They are not so easily defeated.’

“Cruel injustice! I see the heathens tearing down the Fane's great stone doors. They are using them to seal the pit. The formless spawn is trapped! They continue to search and touch nothing this time. They venture down the stairs. I see them walk the corridors. They have found the breeding chamber. They squirm uncomfortably. The murals and the divine ideas contained within revolt them. Their tiny minds cannot comprehend what they see. They seize the wicked toad idol. It toys with them as it speaks to their minds.’

Rance ventured hopefully ‘Tsathoggua can be most persuasive. Perhaps one of them will turn. The rewards for service are great and the wicked toad idol and its power to enslave with but a thought is a worthy prize.’

‘Alas their hearts are steeped in detestable virtue. They do not heed the relic’s entreaties. They move again now to the crypts. The armoured oaf approaches a coffin. He removes the lid and is suitably punished for disturbing the righteous rest of the dead. The blessed of Tsathoggua, half toad and half man, assail them. Mummified, they absorb the blows of their foes. They seem impervious to the arrows of the half elf. The Halfling’s feeble gods will not answer her desperate prayers here in the heart of Tsathoggua‘s temple. They know they are doomed yet still they battle on.’

‘About time they perished. I could not think of a more suitable ending than to be slain by the blessed of Tsathoggua.’

‘Woe brother Rance! I see the blessed torn asunder by the hated armoured oaf and a simple spear thrust from the half elf. We are undone. The Fane of St Toad lies undefended. The heathens retreat but will not be gone long.’ Mugwort shook his head clearing it of the vision. ‘We must gather our strength and head to the Fane at once. Our god has shown me the way. We will put an end to these blasphemers once and for all.’

Negotiating in bad faith

‘I don’t know who killed the troll child but I killed your Jarl.’ – Ugh practises diplomacy.

The temple guards bowed respectfully and opened the door of the shrine. Jana strode into the hall and up to the altar. There she paused in quiet reflection till the Patriarch approached.

‘You looked troubled.’ The Patriarch noted. ‘I take it the latest venture ended poorly. Was there more misbehavior on your companion’s part? I trust there was no further cannibalism?’

‘No, Ugh has reigned himself in. Instead I suspect Milgos slew a child, by accident for the dark elf has no malice in him. Still I find the act unsettling and it only serves to stiffen the resolve of our enemies. Nothing shocks me anymore Patriarch. From the way Milgos and Ugh talk about building towers and keeps it seems the end is nigh.’

‘Clearly you are troubled Jana. Best share your burden. I will listen.’

‘The last venture saw us clash again with the mountain trolls. We felt we had them routed but they returned to their lair in numbers. I, like the others grow weary of battling them. In the tunnels on the way in we had to deal with a small band of dark elf scouts. These dark elves are not like Milgos. They dress in lizard skins and their eyes have no pupils. They lasted barely ten seconds as Milgos tore into them with fire and ice magic. Clearly he harbors a great hatred for dark elves of all kinds. Interestingly they had a trained basilisk with them. Its head was hooded like a falcons and it was kept lashed to a handler’s pole. During the magical barrage the hood was torn asunder and for the briefest moment Milgos met it’s baleful gaze. He shook it off and the creature perished in a barrage of magic missiles.’

‘The trolls had repaired the great double doors which led into their domain. We knocked respectfully and Milgos attempted a subterfuge. Osric and Ugh chatting away in common spoiled his efforts. Osric’s half-elven accent was a particular give away. Credit where it is due however for Milgos would not stop trying to trick his way in. Alas brains would not suffice and so brawn would have to do. Ugh kicked the door in and a melee broke out with the guards. During the skirmish Milgos crept ahead discovering the troll hall, where previously he had disrupted a clan feast, was once again occupied by a score of mountain trolls. A trollish hag was organizing them for war and they marched to meet us in the hall where the door guards were continuing to mount a desperate defence. Acting swiftly Milgos blocked their approach with a wall of ice before alerting us that company was coming.'

The Patriarch interrupted. ‘Ah Milgos, once again acting impetuously and imperiling the group. Was it not his fireball into a crowded feast hall that slew the Jarl’s child and in so doing started this wretched vendetta?’

‘So it would seem Patriarch. Though Milgos' carelessness has not killed anyone but himself as yet. His quick thinking with the wall of ice bought us time to dispatch the mountain troll guards. The last fell before the pair of savage war shrews Osric had brought along. We headed north towards the kitchens, hoping to bypass the bulk of the trolls only to run into the troll hag and some guards. She asked to parley and for a while things looked to be going amicably.

‘Where is your leader?’ the troll hag asked. Milgos answered from the anonymity afforded by his invisibility.

‘Show yourself. How can we negotiate in good faith when you will not show yourself.’ The hag continued. Milgos was unmoved and so Ugh took up negotiations claiming to be the leader of the group. Ugh speaking for the party should have been warning enough that things would turn sour but alas this appears to be a lesson we have to learn the hard way.

‘The one question I have for you is this…’ Began the troll hag.

‘We ask the questions.’ Ugh interrupted.

‘Just this single question answered and we shall end our grievances. Who was it that turned the Jarl’s son to ash? Who slew the Jarl?’

‘That’s two questions but I shall answer you. I don’t know who killed the child but I claim credit for slaying your king.’

‘At the news the troll jarl’s wife, who had been invisible up to this point, shrieked bloody vengeance and invoked an ancient trollish curse. Ugh transformed before my eyes. His hands and feet became hooves, horns sprouted from his forehead, his body shrunk and he grew a great beard. He had become a goat!’

Ugh transformed - possibly gaining a charisma point or two

‘Even with our frontline fighter goatified we were able to put the mountain trolls to the sword. The trollish hag was last to fall detonating a great blast of fire that felled Milgos momentarily and charred the war shrews. At the cessation of hostilities I set about dispelling the enchantment on Ugh. It was not long before he was back to his normal self. I must admit I had half a mind to leave him in goat form but Milgos and Osric wouldn’t have allowed that. The loot was particularly scarce as it was apparent that we had cleaned them out on the last foray. There are still some trolls skulking about down there though they will mostly be maids. If they are smart they will leave and trouble us no more. I pray we do not fight them again for I have had enough of slaying mountain trolls.'

Against the Mountain Trolls

'We couldn't rescue one of you. The trolls squeezed him till his eyes popped.' - Milgos consoles the slaves

The Mountain Troll King's golden throne

Betty hefted her mug of mead and knocked it back in record time much to the admiration of the tavern patrons. She was never short of an audience, ever since her ventures with Milgos and Ugh had gained the attention of the common folk. She no longer had to buy her own drinks, though on this occasion she supplied the beverages herself. The bands latest expedition had left her in the possession of a vast supply of mead courtesy of the Mountain Trolls. She was becoming accustomed to the taste. The patrons gathered around expecting a story of heroics but she wasn’t in the mood. She’d been brooding for months now, ever since the fallout with Beatrice, her twin sister and temporary adventuring companion. Dirk the apprentice, who at this stage of the night was already roaring drunk called out “Give us a story Betty. Tell us about how you killed the King of the Mountain Trolls and plundered his horde!”

She’d give them a story.

“All I ever hear about is how we are these big heroes. We have this reputation now for saving folk. I can’t walk down the street without someone begging me to ‘rescue my daughter from the Chimera’s Grotto’ or ‘save my child from the Keep on the Borderlands.’ Most people don’t like the answer I give, but I give it to them straight. I tell them we aren’t heroes and we aren’t a charity. Unless you’re paying us we aren’t going to save your cousin, brother or whoever. The truth is the last lot of folk we rescued, all those cooks, washerwomen and filthy gnomes, we rescued by accident. In the end we used them as labor, getting them to carry the heaviest loot for us so we could take it easy on the way back to the city. Ugh and Milgos both sat in the Mountain Troll’s throne while the freed slaves carried them down the mountain. One last bout of slavery before we left them in the city square with nothing but the clothes on their backs. We took everything we could from those Mountain trolls, their jewelry, the Jarl’s throne, rugs from their floors even the crib from the nursery.”

“You could at least make it sound heroic you know. I much prefer the bard’s tales to your bitter ranting.” Complained Kirk the disappointed apprentice just before an empty mead mug smashed his ugly face. Betty continued her tale as the unconscious fool fell to the ground. “He’s right you know. The story could use a bit more heroism and a little less reality.” She said with a wicked gleam in her eye “Here is the pretty version you can tell your kids before you tuck them in at night.”

“We had earlier slain the Jarl and put the trolls to flight. We knew it was only going to be temporary as the trolls would regroup under the leadership of either the Jarl’s ruthless wife or the foul troll crone who had befuddled Ugh’s mighty intellect with her trollish wiles. This is the reason Milgos hounded the trolls retreat blasting them all the while with his wand of ice and frost.”

Anther patron deigned to interrupt though not as rudely as the last “I heard Milgos was out of magic. He had a wand that shot pink energy missiles but it was ashed by a dragon.”

The Jarl's son prior to the fireball

“You heard right but in the time we spent burning the bodies of the first troll onslaught Milgos had rummaged through our bag of holding. In it he found the wand of frost we had torn from the cold dead hands of none other than Enlandrin the notorious bastard and evil mage. And so Milgos blasted the hated Mountain Trolls with great storms of ice from Enlandrin’s wand, leaving many trolls rent asunder by great jagged hail stones the size of your head!” The crowd gasped in terror. 

“Well may you gasp for I too was shocked. Ugh and I picked our way through the carnage trailing the mad Dark Elf in human guise. Ugh probably wasn’t concerned by the horrific scenes as he had personally committed far worse. Do you recall the story of him eating fried goblin?”

The crowd nodded and one called out “It weren’t true Betty. That’s just lies.”

“Of course it’s true.” Betty cried incredulously “I saw it myself. He’s done some terrible things but cannibalism is likely the worst. I already told you we aren’t heroes and what we do isn’t pretty. Do you want to know the real reason the Mountain Trolls were so mad at us? It’s because we killed the Jarl’s son. Milgos fried the infant with magic. He burnt a few of the trolls as well but seemed to do a tremendous job incinerating the Jarl’s son. This had the predictable effect of inciting the trolls to hurl themselves at us seeking murderous retribution. While Milgos had them on the run with icy blasts from his wand some of the Mountain Trolls were too stupid to know they were beat and fought us in the halls. They didn’t last long. Ugh and I cut them down. Then it was off to free the slaves and take everything of value that wasn’t nailed down. And here we are. The heroes return triumphant to the city. Let the bards spin their tales of heroism; at least you lot got the true story. Now leave me be. I have some drinking to do.”

Hackfest or when things go wrong!

‘My name is Milgos and I am here to free you.’ – Milgos emancipates the slaves

A mountain troll

‘Here she is my lord.’ Lord Winthrop’s manservant ushered in wild-eyed woman in servant’s garb ‘Just hired her this morning as a kitchen hand. She says someone called Milgos liberated her from one of the Mountain Troll halls. I recalled the name Milgos from the minstrel’s tales your fond of and thought you might want to talk with her.’

‘Your intuition serves you well.’ Lord Winthrop praised his servant before turning his attention to his new kitchen hand. ‘Your name girl?’

'The trolls called me Brigitte me lord.’

‘Very well Brigitte, tell me how you came to meet Milgos and his group.’

“Isn’t much to tell me lord. I was serving in the halls of the Mountain Trolls. Carrying haunches of mutton and steins of ale from the kitchens. It was one of the Jarl’s many feasts where he would ramble on about faded glory and then drink to excess. Dradeel, a slave like me only a gnome, approached and whispered  ‘Head to the corner. There is a wizard about and he means to free us with magic.’ Now I think to myself ‘the kindly wizard must be about to teleport us to safety. But no.’ The wizard, who I learned was Milgos, starts chanting and waving his arms from his hiding position under one of the giant trestle tables they bring out for their feasts. His chanting and waving gave his position away but it didn’t matter as a great ball of fire engulfed the Mountain Troll Jarl and his hearth guard. All hell broke loose as troll warriors and maids raced towards their attacker. We servants ducked under benches trying to keep out of harms way. The Jarl’s wife was howling in anguish as the fireball had roasted her child alive. The Mountain Trolls filled their hearts with hate and vengeance as they poured from the hall seeking wizard blood.’

‘Fighting all sense of self-preservation I edged towards the halls exit so I could witness the unfolding fight. I hoped my cruel masters the Mountain Trolls, would be defeated and Milgos would rescue us. While I couldn’t see much I did see three armoured figures, whom I would later learn were Ugh the toad-slayer, Jana wizard-bane and Betty the corpse-guardian. They were fleeing before the horde of trolls. I heard a high-pitched voice exhorting them to run faster but could not see who uttered the warning. I would later learn it was the invisible Milgos.’

‘I heard he spends more time invisible than visible and that he slowly ebbs and fades from this world.’ Lord Winthrop mused.

Onkel the three headed troll

‘Couldn’t say me lord. In fact I saw little of what he got up to during the battle, probably all the more so given that he shrouds himself in invisibility wherever he goes. Though I did hear some of what unfolded from those working in the kitchen. They say he severed the spine of Onkel the three headed troll. Stabbed him in the back when he wasn’t looking. He’s good at the sudden stabbing as he gutted a troll maid towards the end of the struggle. He strikes from the invisible then fades into the shadows. He’s like an assassin only without the evil.’

‘While the warriors where putting up a stout defence in the hall, driving back the troll horde, Milgos was leading a band of troll chefs a merry chase in the kitchens. The trolls hunting the evasive wizard threatened the kitchen staff hoping they would give up the heroes position. Even when they squeezed a gnome so hard that his eyes popped from his skull the kitchen staff would not betray their potential savior. Milgos eventually distracted his furious troll hunters with a sound cantrip and in doing so saved the lives of many kitchen staff.’

‘Perhaps he is a hero after all?’ Interrupted Lord Winthrop. ‘I had heard mixed accounts up to this juncture. I had been erring on the side of Milgos being a rogue of ill intent who wears the trappings of a hero only to lend legitimacy to his larcenous and murderous inclinations. This unkind reading of his character I owe in the main to his dark elf heritage.’

‘Dark elf me lord? He aint no dark elf. I know dark elves on account of how some were guests at the Jarl’s feast. They ran at the first sign of trouble. They didn’t look like Milgos at all. He’s a hero my lord, no doubt about it. He fought the Troll chefs while his friends faced off against the furious horde.’

Send more trolls!

‘I could hear the Jarl and his wife cursing and wailing behind me over the death of their son. While they where distracted a troll crone lead the assault. She charmed the Toad-slayer into leaving the safety of the corridor that the heroes held. The warrior staggered into the midst of the mountain trolls his mind ensorcelled till the brutes brought their vengeful axes down upon him. Somehow he survived the assault and even managed to fight his way back to the defensive position of his companions.’ 

‘There was much blood shed in that corridor. Troll’s retreated or where slain. The troll’s remorseless assault wore down the heroes. Ugh in particular took some terrible blows. Yet Jana’s prayers to the gods soothed his wounds and kept him standing. The battle raged for almost half an hour before the grief stricken Jarl pushed through the ranks in order to bring the conflict to a head. He faced off against the toad-slayer. The Jarl’s mighty two-headed battle-axe, easily 6 feet in length, clashed against the toad-slayers dragon slaying sword. There could be only one and as it turned out that one was Ugh Toad-slayer. With the Jarl’s head separated from his body the tide had turned and the remaining trolls, despite comfortably outnumbering the heroes, had had enough. They turned tail and fled leaving the heroes surrounded by corpses. They immediately piled up the bodies, dowsed them in oil and set them alight.’

‘And that’s all there is to tell. Me and the other servants fled to the surface. From there we made it to the city.’

‘Thank you Brigitte for a most enlightening tale.’ Lord Winthrop gestured for his manservant speaking quietly in his ear at his approach ‘Bring me the sage.’

Enlandrin's Folly

'I could use something flammable about now.'  - Gerard one of Enlandrin's webbed warriors

Tshoghha the demon toad. He's mentioned briefly in the story a little latter.

Blodgett gazed moodily into his ale. His decision to let his friend Milgos hold his share of the treasure had been out of character and now had come back to haunt him. He needed plenty of gold to pay for his wizard tuition and so he had hired the best local talent for an immediate expedition into the underworld. His hirelings milled about the bar. First and foremost amongst them was Gerard the grizzled warrior whom Blodgett had ‘liberated’ from the clutches of the mighty sorcerer Enlandrin. Gerard had been Enlandrin’s right hand till Blodgett convinced him to change his tune thanks to a little charm spell. Enlandrin wouldn’t come seeking revenge as the crazed wizard was now deceased.

‘Tell us Elandrin’s Folly again boss. You know the story about how you helped kill the infamous sorcerer.’ Asked Burne, one of the new hires. ‘I once adventured with the West Wood Warriors. That was till they decided they didn’t need me anymore. Threw me on the scrap heap. After all I did for them carrying the torch. A rat even bit me. And what did I get for my troubles eh?’

Blodgett the mage. The kerchief makes him medieval.

Blodgett’s thoughts were interrupted. ‘Yes Burne, I will tell you the tale, if you promise to cease your infernal prattling. I don’t pay you to talk.’ The mage gave a weary sigh before launching into his tale. ‘We had found some priests, foul worshippers of the toad demon Tshoghhha.’ Blodgett’s pronunciation of the word sounded like he was hacking up a great gobbet of phlegm. ‘Whilst putting the miscreants to the sword one of them had a change of heart. The poor blighter begged forgiveness before betraying his master Enlandrin by informing us the wizard’s whereabouts. I suspected a trap but advised that we press on. I had been hording my best spells for the coming conflict.’

‘My good friend Milgos scouted ahead. It wasn’t long before we came upon a chamber full of skeletal undead along with the crazed worshippers of Tshoghhha. Milgos opened and closed a few doors whilst invisible giving away his presence to the cultists. Knowing the game was up our half-orc meat shield stormed into the room.’

Gerard interrupted ‘I don’t like the way you called Ugh a meat shield. Just because he is a fighter doesn’t mean he should be objectified.’

Milgos scoured. ‘Must I be interrupted? I called Ugh a meat shield because he is a half orc and half orcs are stupid slabs of destructive muscle. You hire them for their capacity to take a blow and get in the way of your enemies; hence I call the dullard a meat shield. You met the man; he wasn’t too bright was he? I meant no slight against fighting men in general. If I insulted you then I apologise.’

‘Apology accepted. Do go on with your tale.’ Gerard took a swig of his ale and continued to listen intently. He knew the tale for he had been there, but he still liked hearing it told.

‘The warriors stormed into the room and were met with a hail of arrows fired by skeletal archers and the berserk dagger strikes of chanting cultists. Fang III had its throat opened by a frenzied dagger strike. Ugh was unmoved by his canine companions death. I was later to learn that the brute took pride in the number of canines he could get killed in various dungeons, hence him keeping score via the title Fang I through to III. He and Milgos’ henchwoman Betty waded into the foe chopping the cultists down with methodical precision. I supervised the conflict, saving my magical resources for the showdown that was sure to come. The undead in the room scattered as Jana the hobbit strode in brandishing her holy symbol before her. Betty pressed the cultists into an adjoining corridor. She looked a sight drenched in the blood of a dozen foes. Just as the battle looked won a blast of energy blew apart several doors, stormed down the corridor, fried a cultist and badly scorched Betty. Enlandrin had decided to make his presence felt.’

‘Ooh this is my favourite part. This is the bit where you arrive.’ Said Burke to the warrior Gerard.

‘That’s it I give up!’ Blodgett cried in exasperation. ‘I cannot tell the story if I am to be interrupted at every turn!’

‘Sorry boss. Do go on.’

‘Alright, but only because the tale is nearing the end. Following the bolt of lightning came a trio of warriors, including Gerard who at the time was … um … under a mind-altering enchantment cast by Enlandrin. It was then that I unleashed my pent up power webbing the corridor and preventing Enlandrin’s sell swords from harming us. I must say Gerard did look terribly imposing as he began hewing into the web with his great sword. Our canny foe Enlandrin countered my magic with magic of his own. A great storm of ice was summoned into the chamber, which I had the foresight to avoid by remaining outside the room. Enlandrin had cast indiscriminately however and had injured both friend and foe. Soon it was only Gerard and the as yet hidden Enlandrin opposing us. Seeing the force arrayed against him Gerard sensibly swapped sides. The hobbit, Jana, prayed to her god for intervention and got it in the form of a silence spell. Enlandrin was not to be easily defeated as the wizard, protected by shimmering images, moved outside of the zone of silence. He strode amongst us and unleashed a volley of magic missiles into the chest of the upstart priestess. Jana remained bloodied but standing. Pushing past the pain and through gritted teeth the hobbit once again called upon her god who this time froze Enlandrin in his tracks.' 

Enlandrin prior to his untimely demise.

'At this, the final stage, Milgos, who had been hiding all this time, chose to reveal himself. The rogue appeared in front of the frozen mage and plunged his daggers into the various figments and images that were Enlandrin’s illusionary protection. Each blow saw another figment disappear till there were no more layers. Bereft of protection the mage took a dagger to the face. Thus ended the life of Enlandrin. All there was left to do was loot the place. My good friend Milgos still has my share. I must remember to ask for it one of these days.’

Saved Sorcerers and Apologetic Acolytes

'I'd like some glowing balls.' - Milgos the dungeon scout.

A place by the hearth in Lord Winthrop’s grand hall had been set-aside for the bard. The perfect spot from which to regale the assembled nobility with stories of high adventure.

The troubadour cleared his throat loudly to garner the attention of those nearby. As he rose an expectant hush filled the chamber.

“Lords and Ladies. I bring to you the tale that has recently reached its nasty conclusion. I call it ‘Enlandrin’s Folly’.” Various nobles nodded with familiarity at the name Enlandrin. He had been a wizard of great power who had left the cities arcane guild in a storm of controversy. Rumors of necromantic experiments and devil worship had been vigorously denied by the mages guilds, and yet many felt they held the ring of truth.

“Our tale also involves the West Wood Warriors.”

A noble woman at a nearby table frowned at the name and called out “That name is terrible, surely they do not call themselves that. They sound like unkempt tree hugging vagabonds. They sound like they are in league with the elves.”

The bard looked apologetic. “Alas madam I fear that is the groups moniker. Thus named by a drunken sell sword, for the band had never gone to the trouble of naming themselves. Rest assured what they lack in creative titles they make up for in heroic deeds.”

“Our heroes found themselves returning to the domain of the mage Enlandrin that adjoined the tunnels and warrens of the sprawling local dungeon known as ‘The Darkness Beneath’. Milgos, the group’s scout, had found it hard adjusting to life as a human. His night vision was poor and so he took to carrying around a number of glowing balls to light his way. Milgos would prefer a blade in each hand should the opportunity to stab something arise and so his need to carry shiny balls vexed him. That is until he came up with a cunning plan. He would place a ball on his head. First he would fashion a conical hat and he would place his ball on the pointy end. He could then see where he was creeping and have both hands free for frenzied stabbing.”

"Milgos crept down the dank and dark corridors, his glowing ball shedding the bare minimum of light necessary for him to see and yet not alert the local denizens. Or so Milgos hoped. A call echoed down the tunnels alerting the group to danger. It was the scream of terror followed by the distinct raucous tones of desperate combat. All pretense of stealth abandoned; Milgos sped into a chamber. He was in time to see a rogue be smothered by an ochre jelly. The abominations touch dissolved the poor fools flesh. The single remaining member of the luckless band of adventurers stood in the centre of the room cursing in arcane tongues. Soon missiles of magic filled the air and streaked forth with unerring accuracy peppering the ooze. Milgos recalled from his studies in the mages academy, that such oozes could simply be hacked apart and so he leapt at the creature blade swinging. He was soon joined by Ugh and the pair carved through the jelly like our good Lord Winthrop carves through a desert.”

There was nervous laughter as Lord Winthrop’s guest turned to their host to see how he would take the slight. The noble gave the bard a stern look, a spoon full of custard half way to his mouth “Go on bard but try and leave out future japes at my expense.” Those gathered in the hall breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Lord Winthrop - shamelessly 'borrowed' from a popular novel.

“Beg pardon my Lord.” The bard said before resuming his tale. “And so the mage was saved. He and Milgos traded academic titles each sizing the other up. Blodgett, for that was the mages name, had the audacity to try and hire Milgos and company promising them a 15% share of all treasure found. He was politely refused and was largely fobbed off by the accomplished heroes for his talk did not seem to match his observed ability. Oddly, while the mage was occupied retrieving the items and personal effects of his deceased companions, Milgos felt compelled to enchant the young mages mind. His motive remains unclear though he would later swear that it was for Blodgett’s own safety for a mage so full of himself and yet so obviously lacking in ability, well it would only be a matter of time. The exact reason for Milgos’ enchantment hardly matters, as later in this tale it would prove a sound move and Blodgett, an otherwise insignificant player in the world of sorcerers, would become something of a hero.

The evil high priest at least put in a token effort.

The band set out once more with Blodgett trailing behind.  They skirted a chamber, in which laired a specter of terrifying countenance. Pressing on they sought out tunnels that led south for Milgos had an inkling that Enlandrin’s sanctum lay in that direction. Soon they arrived at a door on the other side of which they heard mumbled conversation and witnessed the flickering of lantern light. Ugh splintered the door with one might kick. Beyond sat a trio of priests deep in their cups while behind them standing at attention were a handful of desiccated zombies. Battle was joined and it was swift and conclusive. The acolytes were soon slumbering thanks to a timely spell; the zombies fled clawing at the door with rotted hands as they were turned by the holy power of the bands cleric Jana. The nefarious high priest at least managed to look threatening. He drew himself up to his full height, raised his staff and shouted ‘SERPENTUS MAXIMUS!’ The staff’s head became that of a poisonous viper. An invisible Milgos then stabbed him in the spine. So ended the battle.

Of the two slumbering acolytes one was put to the sword. Ugh left his hound to worry the corpse and lap up the still warm blood. It seemed his callous streak had not left with the loss of his cursed helmet. The remaining acolyte was woken and put to question. He begged forgiveness and offered up his master’s location in return for his life. ‘To the south.’ The acolyte groveled ‘Enlandrin’s sanctum is to the south. Can I go now? I promise I shall no longer worship demons. I shall be good. You have my word.’ While disgusted at the sniveling on display the heroes were essentially good and saw no reason to murder the acolyte. He was spared and fled. The band took stock of their resources and decided to continue. They knew their prey was close. Enlandrin would not see out this day. But that my friends is a tale for another time. For the hour grows late and my Capuchin monkey is weary from accompanying me with his lute all this time.

Verbeeg - Like cows to the slaughter

‘Follow the mooing my friends for that way lies our freedom.’ - Osric

A cow. They become important to the story later.

The dockside tavern teemed with people. The troubadour deftly navigated through the crowd till he reached a table upon which he leapt. He then removed his feathered cap that he waved in the air calling “Gather round good people. Come hear the latest exploits of the West Wood Warriors.” Folk looked up from their cups and a crowd quickly gathered eager to hear news.

“Will there be puppets?” asked an old crone. “I like puppets.”

“Alas fair maiden, there shall be no puppets, though my trained capuchin monkey shall accompany the tale with music.” At that the troubadour’s monkey produced a tiny mandolin that it strummed with a tuneless twang.

“The West Wood Warriors had returned Lord Winthrop’s son from the clutches of a saucy Verbeeg shamaness. And yet the slaying of the Verbeeg chieftain had not stopped their raids on our Northern trade routes. The Verbeeg continued to raid feeling safe in their mountain fortress. This would not stand. While the merchants begged the city to act it fell upon our brave heroes to once again venture forth and teach these hulking interlopers a lesson.”

The crowd that had gathered let out a resounding cheer. The exploits of the West Wood Warriors proved popular fodder for the bards of the city. Soon all eyes and ears in the tavern were turned towards the troubadour.

“Once more they ascended the mountain and entered through the entrance concealed by the blasphemous toad idol. Where once moving the malevolent stone toad had proved troublesome, now it was a simple task for Ugh.”

“Why’s that then?” asked the crone. “I heard Ugh aint got much in the way of muscles despite being a son of an orc.”

“It’s true my lady, that Ugh was once considered scrawny but no longer. For he possessed gauntlets of ogre strength, claimed as a reward for the rescue of Lord Winthrop’s son. And so he tossed aside the stone toad idol and descended into the Verbeeg lair.”

“Once again the sneak Milgos crept ahead like a stealthy alley cat. He approached a toad relief inscribed on which was mysterious script which the learned human deciphered with ease.”

“I heard Milgos was an elf. And a dark one at that.” again the crone called out.

“You are behind the times madam. Milgos perished in dragon fire but his soul found a new receptacle in the body of a human. As I was saying the scrawl about the toad relief instructed the reader worship the toad in some fashion, which Milgos did by flicking a coin of considerable worth at the portal. Much to his surprise the coin vanished within the portal never to be seen again, claimed by some dark god. Ugh, known for his impatience, approached the portal and began pushing and kicking it hoping to reveal a secret door. An ominous rumble saw his companions scramble away but not Ugh. The half orc continued to pound the wall till it amazingly vanished! In its place was a torrent of grey murky water that now rushed over Ugh sending him crashing into a shallow chasm. The torrent of water soon eased up and Ugh was fished out from the chasm only to find that he had no recollection of who he was or even why he was there.”

“He was there to fight Verbeeg!” called out the crone.

“Which the band pointed out to their amnesia struck companion. But it was for naught. The warrior was scared and confused and wanted to go home. Osric the half elf struck on the plan to fool the warrior into thinking that they would lead him out ‘back the way they had came.’ When in reality they would lead the fighter deeper into the dungeon.”

“They skirted the terrible room full of beetles both normal and fungal infected. These beetles waged an eternal battle on the walls, floor and ceiling of the chamber. Osric’s surviving war shrews took no interest in the feast before them knowing the insects to be poisonous.”

Shrooms are both sentient and potentially tasty.

 “Later, while Ugh heaved aside a rusted portcullis, the group was assailed by mushroom men. Milgos the wise webbed the fleshy shroom folk in place through eldritch sorceries and the band set about peppering them with arrows. One by one the shroom men fell limp in the web till their leader was all that remained. Here the tale becomes confused as Ugh and Osric both swear that the final shroom offered an arrogant parley, which he relayed through telepathy. As Milgos’ henchwoman Betty had not heard the psychic treaty she continued to pepper the web creature with arrows till Ugh and Osric heard its anguished psionic death scream. Loot was acquired and Ugh had to be dissuaded from consuming the sentient shroom men.”

“While there were many unexplored tunnels the group returned to the area in which they felt the Verbeeg laired. Verbeeg guards soon met them. Once again Milgos tried to convince them of the presence of an invisible deity. These Verbeeg were not to be shaken from their rock worshipping faith and combat soon eventuated. In the narrow confines of the tunnels the Verbeeg countered the bands numbers and inflicted grievous wounds on Betty before falling. The bands priestess, Jana soon had the indomitable warrior woman patched up and ready for more.”

Not long after they chanced upon a lowing sound. Osric recognized it as cattle for he is a ranger and rangers now the call of all animals, cows just so happened to be a really easy to recognise. He relayed this critical information to the party ‘Follow the mooing my friends for that way lies our freedom.’ Ignoring other avenues of exploration the party pressed on towards the sound of cows and was rewarded for in a large hall they found the herd. A grand fireplace dominated the hall. It was shaped like a toad with its maw like hearth merrily blazing away. The toad’s eyes glistened in the firelight and appeared to be valuable gems.

Then there was a hue and cry ‘Thieves! They are stealing our cows!’ Which was rich coming from the Verbeeg seeing as they mercilessly raided the trade routes. Four fur-clad brutes came lumbering from an adjoining chamber and were quickly crushed by the heroes. Ugh then went on to have a rich conversation with the Verbeeg’s hounds but was unable to convince them to accompany him back down the mountain. Milgos saw through the illusion of the toad fireplaces glistening gem eyes. He then determined that the illusion was the trigger to an elaborate crushing trap.”

“Imagine, dear audience, that you were suddenly sealed in a room. Now initially there is plenty of room but you share the space with a herd of nervous cattle. Now imagine that the walls are slowly grinding their way inwards. The cattle become panicked and stampede in the limited space available. You have to begin cutting them down to avoid being trampled. While you do this space becomes more and more limited. Cramped, you struggle in vain to find a way out. But your avarice, your seizing the illusionary gem, has sealed your fate. The walls crash together crushing your bones to jelly, your flesh to paste. We are indeed fortunate dear listeners that our heroes did not trigger this trap.”

“Having inflicted another sound thrashing upon their Verbeeg foes the band set forth down the mountain, for indeed the grand cow hall had served as an entrance to the Verbeeg lair. Our heroes returned once more to our fair city.” And with the tale told the crowd returned to their cups though many a coin found its way into the troubadours feathered cap that the capuchin monkey proffered to the crowd while his master busied himself with a well-deserved ale.