In Sviftmont we delve a bit into the world of the Fey, or Fairies. You learn quite a bit from the context but keep something in mind as you read. The Fey are immortal, as ancient as the Exalted Immortals or the Angelic beings that rule the cosmos. The Fey live in our world, die, or choose to give up their existence, and return to the FeyWild (The land of the Fey, separate from the mortal world) where they spend year or centuries telling the stories of their life to other Fey, then when they are ready, the rejoin the mortal world for another bout of adventure or fun, only to return when that time is ended to tell new stories. The unfortunate side effect of this, is that when they return to the Mortal world, they lose all memories of previous lives until they return to the FeyWild.
Sviftmont 5th 1,000 AC – Julius’ perspective.
This morning, we headed out from Serraine. Branwys and Arleena Joined us to the “Runway” as they called it. Where our Cloud-Clipper was waiting for us. When we arrived, there was something slightly different about the vehicle, but my untrained human eyes were not keen enough to see it.
Adriana noticed right away. Apparently, her father had some of his engineers make adjustments over the night, and he had some things added, or fixed up, I am not sure. Their entire conversation was in gnomish, and I have no idea what was said.
We gave thanks and proceeded to board the cloud-clipper. Inside was some extra seats, and a large wooden crate in the back that were not there yesterday.
We have been now in the clipper for most of the morning. It is hard to tell how long exactly while in this machine, but Adriana has informed me that her “spring-opperated-chronometer” is working and that we have only been in the air for 6 hours.
De’Ath – From a later perspective
Squawk! Oops, this darned “auto-scribbler” writes everything. It’s terrible. No don’t write that! Hey, Gnome, can you… no not you the other one, the female….
… ok let’s try this again. we have arrived at the Inn between worlds, which is fascinating. I will have to make sketches later. Leave a space here. No stop arggg!
Julius’ From the main floor.
We landed the cloud-clipper just behind the De’Ath has been trying to use a device gifted him by Adriana’s family for this trip, but he is not happy with its use, and swears non-stop at it. Since we have entered, all of us have been able to understand his inane mutterings. Fulric things the language is automatically translated while inside the main floors of the Inn. Much to De’Ath’s dismay.
De’Ath – again
I have switched back to my feather pen, and notebook, and stopped using that monstrosity that wretched Skyratchet gave me. If Nagpa were meant to use devices like that we would be reincarnated as gnomes, not Vultures. I swear.
We landed in the desert next to the “Comeback Inn” also known as the Inn between worlds. My books tell me that the Inn’s very enchantments allow all within its radius to read and understand any writing or language. Very interesting… frustrating, but interesting.
First of all the Inn’s spells do not have a sense of tack, like myself. I would only say what’s on my mind in Varellyan, so nobody can understand, but the stupid inn translates directly. Apparently telling the Green man that his fashion reminds me of a body I once saw rotting in the swamp was not considered a compliment.
Back to the Inn. We entered and there were so many fascinating things to see. First I was led into the barn, which is underground, what fool designed this place. Living horses underground, bah! For an Inn that has survived all that My books claim, the hay in the haylofts here are disgustingly fresh, and soft to the nostrils. I almost sneezed 5 times while down there.
We found our way to the lower basement, where the cat-creature, and the male gnome discovered wine. Not just one bottle, but a whole room filled with racks of wine, and kegs of wine, and wine from all sorts of brands.
I warned them not to drink, but you know these gnomes and their drink. Or is that dwarves, I can never tell the short people apart. I was investigating the Kegs when I started checking the vineyard brands. I am not a wine connoisseur, can’t stand the stuff really. But all of the kegs were branded with locations I recognized: Blackmoor Haruska Vinyard, Frogland Winery, Thonian Red, Hak White Wine, and Farfield Abbey Blue.
These Wines are at least 3,000 years old and the fool Gnome is grabbing them like he just walked into the local ale-tavern thingy. Fool.
The tall human, Julius something, convince him to put the bottles back, but not before he drank 2 near empty.
We also found, farther in the caves here under the inn, a storage room. This was a place I could grow to like. It was dark, dank, had broken-near rotting chairs and tables down here, and on the far wall was an archway that gave emitted a soft white-glowing fog.
I watched as the idiots poked it and tried to put their hands into the fog coming from the archway. It would serve them right if the fog was acidic. But it was not.
Fulric – From a bit later.
This inn is fascinating, despite the dimensional doorway in the basement, the main floor is nearly timeless. Everything in here gives the feeling of Fey-wild magic.
The main floor is high-ceilinged, and the Inn looks new, despite being of a style I haven’t seen in lifetimes. As I wander, I notice that despite all of the walls and furniture appearing brand new, every surface was covered in a thick layer of dust, all over the ground and upper floors. There is also Solid rock in the corners and sealed around bed-legs and the like. The rock must have flowed in as mud centuries ago and dried into rock somehow. Fascinating. I will have to ask De’Ath about the history of the building later.
Several rooms feature paintings of famous battles from the ancient past.
Julius’ From the Common Room.
While Fulric and De’Ath are wandering around the Inn taking notes for their different use, the rest of us managed to reach the common room.
There are cabinets in the walls with obscure designs carved in them, the common room has tables and chairs made of oak, but they are bolted to the floor. The chairs have a pivot hinge in the back legs to allow easy entrance, but otherwise are stacked to the floor. This would prevent the furniture from being moved or used as impromptu weapons during any bar-fights I imagine.
Also in the common room we entered was bodies. There apparently was a battle of some sort here, as there are 6 dead orcs on the floor, and 1 human-type man hanging from one of the iron wagon-wheel like chandeliers. just under him is a table with some of his personal affects.
Amongst them is a letter written on a few sheets of parchment paper. I will enclose them here:
Now, at the end, I am uncertain, I fear to die the great death, but cannot live another silent day in this accursed place. This unholy Inn Between the Worlds would drive me mad, I think. Perhaps it has. But even so, I’ll not enter that white fog and disappear like my friends Gern and Charo. Wherever they be now, the great immortals rest their tortured souls. No, not that. Not ever. For me quick solace-and an end to the brooding emptiness of this place we sought with high good heart.
Stranger, if you read this, know that you are doomed. Perhaps, you are wiser than we, Perhaps, there is a way that we’ve not guessed to break this evil enchantment and pass without this place that calls itself in bitter jest “The Comeback Inn.” Perhaps, you will, with all good luck, find the exit that we could not. If so, perhaps you’ll take the time to cut me down and bury me. In that fond hope, I leave my purse as winding fee. Take also this sword, which has served me well and may do the same for you.
If, as I think the case, you be indeed no wiser than we, than know you that there is no way to leave this place. If doubt my word you do, then try. Doors may swing and windows open, but when you’ve stepped through, you’ll find yourself back where you started with only a blink of the eye to mark the passage. Nor will you break the enchantment by breaking the place. We tried that. Our swords and clubs and axes bounced from walls and windows impervious to our strongest blows, The magic of our warlock companion failed us, too. All for us was futile. We could not leave. Nor can you.
We came here, five of us, in search of wealth beyond imagining. We sought the treasure house of myth-the place wherein ’twas said, the wealth of the ages could be found. We sought the Inn Between the Worlds. We’d tramped across the Broken Lands from Corunglain and searched for two long months before we found it-and then by merest chance.
The winds that blow about this place brought us the sound of a shutter slamming ‘gainst its cursed walls. Bewitched by half-formed visions of mountains of gold and hills of finest pearl, exposed to our greedy, snapping fingers, we rushed to meet our doom. Upon the barren porch we stood and elbowed each other aside, so that we might catch a glimpse of the imagined treasure. But we couldn’t see through the windows, and they would not break before our blows.
Indeed, we did find treasure though. Wedged between two planks of silvered wood in the porch on which we stood, old Rilk found himself a copper. A petty thing it was. But it set our hearts alight with thoughts of richer finds inside. We tumbled down the stairs and dashed across the yard, meaning to enter the place by the open gate we saw in the north wall. Capering like children, we ran within and down a ramp that led us to a stable. Horses and mules, we left outside, together with Rilk, who called after us to stop.
It was when l turned to shout to Rilk to follow us inside and bring our mounts that I first knew our doom. For I could see him standing in the yard shouting at us to stop. The words formed fast upon his lips, but no sound came. Nor was there sound of wind or blowing sand or horses nickering in the hot afternoon sun. All was as if an invisible blanket had been thrown over us that let in the light but cut off all noises from the waking world.
Disturbed by this weirding. I turned to leave the place-and came back in A dozen times, I tried-and came back in. I know not what it was that Rilk saw. Perhaps it looked as if I but turned around, for that is how it seemed to those inside. I know, he looked at me in puzzlement and had the sense to stay outside the witchy place. The rest of us bethought ourselves of escape and searched for some eldritch innkeep to open a secret door and let us out. We searched the inn from end to end and top to toe and then again. We found no one. Only the decaying corpses of some nameless things that we threw down the kitchen disposal chute.
Thus began our imprisonment. At first, we despaired, for we had no food or drink. But we soon learned that the food and drink inside the inn was wondrous good and seemed to replenish itself in the dark hours when we slept, for we ate the same ham a dozen times before it paled, and still each morn it hung upon its hook as whole as on the day just passed when we had eaten it to scraps. The same thing happed with all inside. Only when we did not return even the least shred or scrap to its proper larder was some ensorcelled roast not reborn upon the morrow in its proper place The same was true for all that we consumed. Wine that passed our lips returned to its barrel ere morn, and no matter how much ale we drank, the keg seemed always to be full. Yet, we were strong and sated as men are not by faerie food.
Weeks passed. A pensive Rilk, seeing that we did not weaken and die, but himself now short of food and drink, soon left us, taking our horses and gear. Perhaps he headed back to Corunglain to carry the news and bring us back some wizard strong enough to break the enchantment that held us. J know not. We never saw him again.
More weeks passed. The weeks turned into months. The winter howled about, then passed. Often, we spoke of our escape. But all that we tried soon failed. Only one thing did we avoid, holding it as a last resort against the day when hope should fail. You’ve doubtless seen. There, in the deepest cellar, it is. The: Gate our friend the warlock called it. An arch of magic fog that sometimes storms with inner light and leads we know not where.
So, we lived like reluctant kings inside our prison-hostel Until last week one day at eventide. ‘Twas then the orcs burst from cellar where none should have been able to enter. For we had closed and barred the stable doors once Rilk no longer stood outside. The witchy inn was closed. How then came they here?
In our hearts we knew. The gate, the awful gate below, was open. The horror of it seized our hearts as we hunted and slew. When all who had come up were dead, we stalked the cellars. When finally we crept down the ramp into the lowest cellar, we found the guards the orcs have posted to hold their rear. On seeing us, they knew that all above were dead, and, squeaking with fright, they turned and fled, disappearing into the boiling foggy maw from which we knew they’d come.
The strangeness of it froze us. Then, taken by some feyness, Gern and Charo proposed to follow. Into the fogs and smokes they would go and see what escape there might be on the other side. My cries of protest were in vain. My friends heard them not at all, but, stepping ‘crost the threshold, walked into the mists. The warlock waited but a moment before he too went through. And I was alone.
That was a week agone now, and none of the three have returned. Once I tried to follow. But the mist would not let me pass. Instead, it whorled and moaned behind some solid wall J couldn’t cross, as if to rebuke me for my cowardice before, when my friends so willingly entered its embrace.
That is my tale. J go now to my death. The doors below are again open and unbarred. Perhaps, ’twere better not so. But if you be Rilk returned too late with means to free us, then ’twere well if it were open. If not, you have me in your debt for this foul chance that has trapped you too. Apologies, stranger. Take the purse.
–Hepath Nun
Immediately after we read this ominous letter, we tried exactly what this Hepath Nun said; We tried to leave. We were surprised to find that the effects he mentions only seemed to effect Gubnaver, while the rest of us seemed safe to leave and return as we wished.
It was shortly after that Ko’ar found the Tab, we were confused and unsure of what it meant until De’Ath returned.
In a small notebook behind the counter was a list of names, with a value written next to them. The last two names on the list included Thaddegren Dentiata for 500 GC, and Gnubnaver Fumblebuck for 100 GC. When De’Ath looked over the book, he looked at us and squawk-howled in laughter. The inn keeps track of any food, drink or accommodation used and charges us for it.
I am guessing that Gnubnaver will not be able to leave until he pays his bill… If only Heapath Nun had paid his. It looks like his bill was transferred to his comrades, wherever they may be.
Sviftmont 6th – Early Morning – Julius
Last night we slept in the common room after cleaning up the dust and bodies. This morning we woke to quite a commotion coming from downstairs. So some of us, including Galladin, Gnubnaver, Fang, Ko’ar, Fulric and I decided to investigate.
When we reached downstairs we were shocked to see Trolls, 6 of them just coming around the corner from the stone archway in the cellar. When we tried to talk to them, there was no understanding, so either the magic translation doesn’t work in the cellar or trolls are too stupid, either is a good guess.
After a brief clash with them, that ended with us retreating to the main floor and barring the door down, everything calmed down. Ko’ar noticed the notebook had started writing some trollish names on the list.
I guess they found the wine.
We also noticed that each of us who had tried to clean up, now had a negative balance. I guess we are rewarded for our work. Gnubnaver had paid off some of his debt.
Since we couldn’t go downstairs again, and we really couldn’t leave Gnubnaver. We spent the rest of the morning cleaning, until we were sure the Trolls had drunk themselves to sleep.
Then we slipped past them into the “gate”. Which had a cold mist around it this time.
Date Unknown
When we stepped through the gate, we arrived in a place that looked very similar to where we had just left. In fact it looked almost exactly the same. The air was much colder, and we shivered as we looked at the black cave like walls. Fang and Ko’ar were determined to look around, and I saw no reason to object.
The trolls were gone, but the wine-cellar was still there. We made our way up to the main floor. The Tavern itself was almost exactly the same as well. I will list some differences I noticed:
- There were no orc bodies in this tavern, but there were some Troll bodies in the common room. It looks like our Trolls had escaped from here after some sort of fight, but with who or what?
- There was a lot less dust on the tables, and almost no solidified rock in the corners or open spaces. The rock probably formed at a later time.
- When we opened the door to exit and see the world outside we were met with a wall of solid ice, which would explain the cold. Just through the ice we could see the frozen form of a large cat.
Ko’ar dug out the cat and removed its head with a knife. When I asked what it was for, he responded that he had been meditating on life and death lately, and that the skull of the cat would help him focus on this with his meditations.
We determined that we Dentiata had not left through this era’s Inn, and headed back through the gate.
Sviftmont 6th – Late Afternoon, Adriana’s notes.
That was a bust.
We returned back through the “gate” a moment ago, and it was already noon. We had to sneak past the Trolls to come back upstairs. I am sure that they were not completely unconscious, but just had no interest in confronting us after our last encounter was mostly a stalemate.
When we got back upstairs, Galladin enchanted the door to the cellar again, and we sat to talk about our next move. According to De’Ath, we would have to wait anywhere from a day to a month for the gate to open to another time.
I decided that if I was going to stay here in the Inn for any length of time, I would start to clean up a bit, and the first thing to go would have to be the bodies. I am not sleeping in an Inn with dead bodies just lying there. Julius helped me move the Orcs to the kitchen waste chute, as the letter from Hepath Nun suggested.
Then we took his body out to the back near my clipper. Gnubnaver, and Fang retrieved some spades from the Inn’s tool shed in the stable. We gave him a proper burial, just as he asked.
Sviftmont 10th – Julius.
The trolls left back to their frozen Inn 2 days ago after Pan Thanar went to talk to them, and we have been waiting for the gate to open again. I wish I knew what the cleric said to them, or how he was able to communicate, but they left peacefully. To keep ourselves busy we have all started to work on the Inn and other pursuits. Koa’s spent time in the kitchen and managed to remove all the skin and muscle from his Sabre-tooth Tiger’s skull, that he retrieved from the past. Fang has taken an interest in De’Ath’s history books, and has spent a long time reading them. I once asked how he managed to carry so many books, as he seemed to always have several. He explained about a magical “book pocket” he had in his robe, which gave him access to every book in his personal library back in Serraine. Very handy, I wish I had something like it for weapons.
Gnubnaver has been following Fulric around, and the halfling seems to be giving him some sort of magical lessons as we wait. Adriana has been tinkering with something her father placed in the cloud-clipper. She won’t say what it is, but spends most of the day, each day there. As for myself, I have been spending time in the courtyard practicing my swordplay. Pan has been watching me, and has periodically sparred with me, which is a nice change of pace.
When we are not busy with our individual hobbies, we have been spending time removing the rock encrusting from some of the rooms. Ko’ar has been watching the notebook, and whenever we have earned enough by helping the Inn out, we use it to “buy” ourselves a meal from the ever-full cabinet, making very sure that we never go in debt to this insane building again.
Sviftmont 12th – Adriana.
Having a lark day so far. Fulric woke us all up early this morning. The gate was open again. I guess while the rest of us are sleeping, he has been sitting there watching it while Pan watched from the front porch to keep us safe from outside.
Anyways we all went down to the cellar, and looked at it. The mist around it was a hazy aquamarine colour today. I personally didn’t want to go through this time unless someone checked it. The last time I nearly froze my nose off. Gnubnaver, volunteered to go through as he was the least likely to be seen, but asked for a rope to be tied around him. So we did. And all agreed, that if the rope became taught, or had a tug on it to pull him back as quickly as possible.
He walked through, and just moments later came back. He came back mid-gate in a swimming motion, and soaking wet. Apparently, the inn was underwater.
I am guessing that the color of the mist emanating from the gate gives hints to the era it is open too. I will have to make notes of this.
Sviftmont 16th – Adriana.
Bored, bored, bored. Everyone is so busy in their own world as we wait. They all seem so determined to find the correct gate opening, but it never seems to work the way they wish. We are waiting again.
De’Ath seems confident that whenever this Dentiata has gone too we have managed to stop him in the past already, because, “Squawk, We’re still here!” is his morbid logic. If we had gone to the past, and lost, then our time would not exist, and none of us would be here.
So we have faith, I guess that we will get there and stop him. But until then, we sit and wait…. And wait.
I suggested we leave and come back, just to get out for a bit. But Fulric and De’Ath thought that we could miss the gate opening if we do that. I pleaded just to go for a short ride in the sky or ANYTHING, but what happens if the gate opens while I’m gone, and they need to go through without me. Julius and I may never see each other again…
So here I sit in the back of my clipper. Dad left me an automated arcana-player. Which is nice, but there is only so many times you can play a game of arcana with a metallic arm before even that begins to wear thin…
Sviftmont 26th – Julius
We have mostly recovered the inn to its pre-petrified state. My love has disassembled the automatic game board her father gave her and rebuilt it a dozen times. So it was with excitement that we all charged down to the cellar when Fulric announced that the gate was open again.
“I could hear half a dozen sighs of “FINALLY!” from my comrades.
Date Unknown – Fulric
I went first this time and was immediately glad to hear sounds of life above, so I signaled the rest to join me. We had made it back to a date that there were people in and around the Comeback Inn. But as we followed the cellar-cave along the sounds began to sound like screams and of combat. I checked the door to the first floor, and it was locked, so we all ran to the entrance of the stables.
When we emerged there was a town around us. a village, actually. A familiar village, but I didn’t have time to ponder it much as the village was under attack from a band of Hobgoblins. The Hobgoblins were all wearing Polar bear pelts to blend in with the snowy ground.
We watched in horror as the Hobgoblins grabbed up children and threw them into cages, then began to set the village on fire while they battled the horrified villagers. Ko’ar and the rest of the combat oriented in our party leapt into action to try to free the children. It was then that I remembered where this scene seemed familiar from.
In my mind I imagined the Hobgoblins as scary-looking snowmen, and this scene was eerily similar to the attack on Sisaklast month. Adriana, De’Ath and I began urging people into the Comeback Inn, knowing it would be fire-resistant and defensible. I then began scouring the area looking for who I hoped would not be here.
There she was. 6 year old Ashira, and her mother were huddled in the back of the Comeback Inn. If we could just save her from being taken to the future and becoming a slave, would this be enough to change our timeline, or would Dentiata still be trying to get the Egg of Coot?
Unfortunately, I don’t know. I looked at the battles outside. It was chaos. Pan Tharr began healing the wounded, and trying to help with the battle, while Adriana and De’Ath tried to keep people safe inside. In all of the chaos, De’Ath’s illusion slipped and he scared a few of the ladies with his vulture head. He had to run into one of the rooms to reinstate it.
When the battle was over, and we had driven the Hobgoblins out. We had a hard choice to make. Fang pointed pout to me, that on top of one of the mountains nearby he could see what he thought was Dentiata watching down on the battle. I admit, I almost let myself be discovered, but I switched my eyes over to their draconic form and checked, as they can see much farther.
It was Dentiatia for sure.
Date Unknown – After the battle, Pan.
After quite a battle, we managed to force the Hobgoblins out of the village and put out the fires. But, by Chardaste, the children. Everything seems so Chaotic. I joined this group in expectations of adventure and sat with them in a magical Inn for a month, now we are in another time-period, when I don’t know, but thrown into the defense of a village from a Hobgoblin menace.
The Hobgoblins seemed to want the children, my guess from dealings with the Black Eagle Barony of my time, is that they will sell the children into slavery. Everything is on fire, and I am trying my best to heal the wounded and to assist the village anyways I can, but I am just one cleric.
Ko’ar and Julius have decided that they will go rescue the children. However, there was more to consider. The fugitive, Dentiata was spotted, and I still had a lot to do to help the village.
Gnubnaver and Galladin decided to join Ko’ar and Julius in finding the children and meeting us back here. Fang and Fulric felt their skills would be best used to hunt down Dentiata.
De’Ath, used to death and destruction, decided to stay and help here. Adriana chose to stay and “Keep the Nagpa from touching these people’s dead” Not sure what she means by that, but De’Ath didn’t seem offended.
Date Unknown – That Evening – Julius’ Perspective
We followed the tracks out into the woods. They were not hard to follow. The snowfall had slowed, and the Hobgoblins were pulling large cages on wheels. After an hour of following, we came across their camp, which was really just a bonfire with the majority of the members sitting around and eating.
There were a few guards at the cages, and a few guards watching the path we were following. With the darkness of night being as dark as it was, it didn’t take a lot of effort for Gnubnaver and Ko’ar to sneak in near the cages. Even with the keen eyesight that Hobgoblins have at night, the two were able to sneak in, open the cages and silently lead the children out.
It wasn’t until the 3rd cage had been opened, that anything was noticed, and we had managed to move the children down the Path. Galladin, in hyena –form ran into the camp and mauled a few of the sleeping Hobgoblins, to cause a distraction while Gnub and Ko’ar move the children towards the village.
I then leap into the fray, and this caused quite a stir. It appeared that I was a fearsome warrior with a Bear companion, and in some ways I was. Many of the Hobgoblins panicked and ran, but a few entered into battle with us. It did not take long for us to have slain a half dozen, then we ran, doing everything we could to either slow the tribe, or redirect them as Ko’ar and Gnubnaver got the children to the safety of the village.
When Galladin and I returned to the village there was more than a few more dead Hobgoblins in town. Once there we regrouped with the rest of our team. Adriana, Par, and De’Ath seemed to have won over the respect of the village, and the return of their children by Gnubnaver and Ko’ar, had cemented it.
Once we were certain that there would not be another wave of invaders, I set out to help the village men build traps and other fortifications around the village. It wasn’t until early morning that we rested.
Date Unknown +1 – The day after arrival. Julius (Sviftmont 27th)
We have been hiking around the mountain for most of the morning.
This morning, during breakfast, a small bluebird flew into town. I would not have even noticed it except that it landed on Gnubnaver’s shoulder and began to tweet at him in a very unusual way. To my surprise, Gnubnaver tweeted back. I knew he could speak wolf, but to hear him speak bird was, earie.
Gnubnaver relayed that the bird had been sent by Fulric, and that it was instructed to lead us to him. So, we gathered our things and headed out.
Galladin, still in his Giant Hyena form apparently offered a ride to Gnub, because the gnome giggled something at him then climbed on his back. Ko’ar and I would follow on foot while we could. Adriana and De’Ath promised to join us as soon as they were done helping. De’Ath promised to use his teleport ring to join us.
The bird was certain that we were almost there, but when we arrived near noon, no-one there.
Date Unknown +1 – Adriana’s logs (Sviftmont 27th)
I finished setting up trigger traps for the villagers, and showed the villagers how to use them, arm them, and disarm them. De’Ath had cleared the dead Hobgoblins by using a wand of his to have them stand up and move outside the village. I convinced the villages to leave them there as a warning, and then reprimanded the Nagpa for using his wand in such a way. I had to tell the village elder that De’Ath was a necromancer, cursed for his use of black arts. I felt this would deter them from trying to steal his wand, and it would explain his vulture head.
So, when we were finished, I called Par and De’Ath together, and we planned to join the others. However, Par felt he should stay. He argued that the village was still in need of him and the immortals he represented. The man is a fanatic, not wrong, but it is frustrating…
So, I took De’Ath’s arm, and in the next moment we were in the middle of a forest, staring at our friends. Honestly, I almost was sick, but I put on a brave face for Julius. Our wise and studious Nagpa friend had forgotten to mention the vertigo I would feel, and that since it was a Nagpa ring, I would be overwhelmed with the smell of rotting flesh as we teleported.
Luckily nobody else seemed to notice.
I gave my husband a hug, and then we tried to slide through the forest. They had found something and needed us quiet.
Before us, was not one, but two hooded figures. They both were large men with the black robes of Dentiata’s brotherhood or whatever. As the men stared at them trying to decide what to do, I noticed something. In the trees next to us was an Elf. He looked extremely familiar, and if I didn’t know better, I would have said it was Fulric, only taller.
The elf silently slipped down and whispered to me that one of those ahead was our quarry, the other was Fang. Elf-Fulric was certain that Fang had fallen for Dentiata’s charms, and so we could not be certain of how he would react to us attacking his new best friend.
This was a problem.
We watched as the two talked and joked, and then our Giant Hyena ate a small bird, that was important to Fumble. The sharp Tweet noise was noticed by one of the two in black robes, and when he looked up, we could see it was Fang, who nodded at us, and then headed into the woods by himself.
This was Go Time, and them men attacked.
Date Unknown +1 – De’Ath’s Journal notes. (Sviftmont 27th)
I have never witnessed such an effort in futility.
Cat-Boy and his team of imbeciles ran strain g into battle. Morons. They have been telling me non-stop about how they have to stop this man, and how everyone who comes close is charmed by him, then what do they do? They get close to him!?!?
Why do people act so stupid is beyond me. At least they had the Elf-boy shooting magic into the fray, I mean what could possibly go wrong?
Well, I’ll tell you, everything. This wizard, warlock or whatever he is (Wizarlock? Warzard?) practically side-stepped all their attempts to hurt him, then he winked at them before disappearing.
HE FRACKING WINKED AT THEM, like this was a game to him.
We could have used the cleric now, but instead of heading back to town, they all declared that it was better to trudge on.
So here is their plan.
The druid is to turn himself into a squishy bug, and crawl into The Gnome’s pocket and HOPE he isn’t squished while the Elf-Changes his shape to a dragon again and carries them. Then they expect me to make a few teleport trips with my ring to their location in the evening. If they make me appear over the ocean I will kill them and eat their bodies.
As you may (or may not) have noticed, I am using the “Comeback Inn” from the Adventure DA1: “Adventures in Blackmoor” Will they go through this whole adventure? that remains to be seen.
All pictures in this post are from that adventure module published by TSR in 1986 and were drawn by Jim Holloway. I really love the old art from this era of gaming.
Baldwin Games 
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