Mug Bearers of the Oaken Table


Dead… The Goliath is dead… The messes that fool caused and yet I lament his demise. If u get out if this cursed dungeon alive I’ll seek to retire and live in solitude so as never to see another ally fall.

Adventure: November 2011 - March 2012
Adventure Under the Mountain

“from the journals of Mushi Stormscale; faithful and talented servant of Bahamut…”

I collect the last several days of journey into a single entry, with the intent of cataloging our progress both for internal review as well as historical mention:

Our journey starts days earlier, in the once fair city of Fallcrest. It is late Fall, and the days are getting both colder and shorter of light. In our possession is a correspondence outlining an upcoming meeting between enemy forces which we hope to interrupt. Our concern however is that the location is somewhere hidden under the vast stretch of mountain range called Thunderspire.

The city has become well aware that something foul is afoot: strange hungering undead roam the countryside freely, and there is no contact from any outside communities. Local militia, too few to patrol the entire countryside, have resigned to defending encroachments against the city walls; all those who leave its safety do so at their own risk.

Lord Warden Markelhay, the city’s leader, harbors a secret which hinders his decisions. His chief advisor and sage Dean Belford is has gone missing. The lord warden has tasked hired us to find the Dean, discretely, and return him to the city. Investigation led us to a secret (and trapped!) series of portals between the University and a hamlet deep underground; the fabled Seven Pilared Hall.

Three Things to Remember about the Seven Pillared Hall
1) The hamlet is a portion of an old minotaur complex, which is frequently explored by adventuring parties.
2) It is run by an order of mages, who allow both above and below species to visit
3) Strange green eyes float about the city, monitoring that citizens are paying taxes

Within the Hall, we’ve already made an impression with several notable figures, including a snyde drow merchant, a brutish ogre sheriff, and a scoundrel of a halfling guide. In fact is was only after some clever damage control (which unfortunately included some coin) that we were able to engage the services of said halfling, a Rendil Halfmoon.

The Missing Key
The third key the connects the portal(s?) between Fallcrest and the Hall now rests in a glass case within the dark drow’s Emporium. Even without proof, our suspicions lean toward the mischievous Rendil.

With Rendil’s assistance, we were able to find the entrance to the lair of the BloodReavers, a mercenary tribe of goblinoid slavers whom are to be hosting a trade on behalf of our nemesis, the vile vampire Lord Blacktongue.

Posing as ambassadors of the vampire, we infiltrated the Reaver’s lair. To our luck we arrived in time, and damaged ties between Blacktongue and his intended allies. Our actions demanded response, and Krand’s orders were clear – capture the ambassadors… alive or dead!

We frantically moved to escape, but the exit was barred. In a game of cat and mouse, we moved frantically from room-to-room, searching for areas to catch our breath from the constant stream of combat. After battling a stream of ettins, goblins, and hobgoblins, we managed a short but expensive rest in the lairs dining hall. Negotiations with the hall’s diners, a company of tiefling and eladrin adventurers, soon soured however, and we were again in the throes of combat. This particular fight proved the most taxing, as our casualties were high, including a fatal loss.

A Ulogy for Killjoy
We remember our brave ally, Killjoy, who consistently and fearlessly put his own life in jeapordy to protect his allies. May your spirit guardians protect you now in afterlife as you did us during mortal life.

The gongs continue to ring, and we have decided to head further south in the complex, towards a darkened series of hallways in hopes of finding a means of escape. Our warrior has fallen, and our elf unconscious. Our tiefling bears deep wounds across his head that were not inflicted by any blade or spell, wounds which appear to be a mark or symbol which even I cannot decipher. And worse…. I cannot find the prison-bottle which harbors the Shifter Karrock…

adventure 06 - Session 03
Settling and Old Score

Quick Recap:
* Defeated Borrit Crowfinger
* Discovered Secret Passage
* Repelled Nexull (again)
* Defeated the Guardian Naga

I am clean and fresh and myself again! Gods everywhere be praised!

I write beside the comfort of a warm fire, well-rested and nourishing a cup of spiced cider. I wish I could add that all is well with the world, but as it turns out (quite frequently I may add) there is trouble afoot…

I retrace my steps for archival purposes:

We had defeated the necromancer Borrit Crowfinger, but his lackey Nexull escaped and still remains at large. Would that we chase him, however our orders from General Bradwarton were specific. We ventured further into the Ruins of Fastormel, attempting to disperse any and all evil from the lair.

In the sewers (filth!) we encountered an intelligent species of serpent called Naga, this one apparently a guardian. For whom, we were soon to discover: A mysterious broker of information – Agatha, laired within Fastormel. How she managed to keep truce with Crowfinger is a mystery only she could answer; and with her – answers do not come cheap.

We left Agatha alive, after bartering for information on an entrance inside Thunderspire Mountain. Her fee was information, and I’m unsure who Did we specify that it be unguarded? That I cannot recall…

Outside Fastormel, we again met General Bradwarton, our current employer, for our reward. The general required time to inspect our work prior to our payment. I must admit I admire the man’s discipline, for even the word of a respected priest such as myself could not sway the man from protocol. In the interim, Bradwarton had a second assignment for us – one which could be extremely rewarding… and deadly.

Nell, the Kraken. Or should I say, the Zombie Kraken. The soulless creature was still dangerous to anyone near Lake Nentir, and Bradwarton had a vessel laden with items harbored which he was unable to retrieve. Our mission – Acquire as many items from the boat and destroy the creature. Our reward – half the items retrieved! Sincerely I had thought the good General insane!

A windy day. The boat rocked listlessly in the choppy murk. The gusts swelled here and there, and we shuddered as we crossed onto the peninsula harbor; small pockets eroded to expose the lake below. As we approached, lifeless tendrils emerged from the depths! Almost as if the creature had claimed the ship her prize, Nell’s venomous tentacles attacked any and all who came near.

As the kraken defended its prize, gusting winds formed small tornados, which meandered across the plain. Wolves, presumably scavengers following the trail of recent kills, approached from behind, sensing easy prey. Caught between paw and tendril, truly I felt as if our journey had come to an end!

Truly, our fortune was thanks to our tiefling ranger, who spirited a gateway close to the ship – our savior! Once on the ship, we searched with intensity, as Nell’s tendrils sought to crush it and drag it below! (A woman’s scorn indeed!)

While some of our party fought the Kraken, the rest searched the ship, seeking to recover the cargo Bradwarton had mentioned. It was little surprise the fate of the former crew, now zombies, which after Nell were little trouble.

Fortune would grace us a second time, as the vessel was still partly functional, and armed with canons, which we used to destroy the foul creature. And good riddance I say!

We returned, alive, to the General with our bounty. As promised, the General split the items with us, and now better armed, we returned to Fallcrest – still in danger – but somehow also home.

Bahamut be praised!

Adventure 06 - Session 02
A Name from the Past

Quick Recap:
* Encountered General Bradwarton
* Traveled to the Ruins of Fastormel
* Repelled Nexull

This entry will be brief, which is not due to pressure of time or inconvenience but a more serious nature:

The area I am in is filthy.

A sewer! Never once in my youth when I dreamed of high adventure did I envision sloshing through muck-infested puddles, full of pestilence and more disease ridden creatures that even I have read about!

Yet here we are, alive at least, which I cannot say for the poor troglodyte creatures nearby. What is it down this dark and mysterious tunnel before me that would cause these creatures lay down their lives to protect it? Whatever it is, it is precious enough that someone would see fit to summon a guardian Naga to protect it! Whiskers and beards what an unusual creature!

But enough of that. What is of utmost importance, and what prompts me to put quill to paper is a mysterious figure we encountered in the throned room above. A figure who tried to kill us. A figure….who should have been long deceased.

Crowfinger… Borrit Crowfinger to be precise. A Necromancer, and a nasty one at that, in his day and age. According to history, the Crowfingers were an accomplished family from the country of Damara. Many of the kin were practices in the arcane arts, with several turning towards the darker arts of Necromancy.

It was Borrit however, that truly mastered the art, becoming so feared that many within the kingdom feared his very existence was a factor in the events which led up to the Time of Troubles. In 1376 DR, over 100 years ago, Borrit was tried on heresy charges and hanged. Following his execution, there are no further records of the Crowfinger name, and the family property was found abandoned and promptly seized by the state.

Yet tonight we encountered the man, or someone pretending to be him. His power appeared so great he could summon the dead merely at whim, and held the vampire lord Nexull a captive puppet for his macabre pleasure. Truly, it appears we may have put and end to the foul sorcerer, but I have reserves that our party, accomplished as it is, could vanquish a fiend that evaded death and certainly has outlived his normal lifespan.

About Nexull
We again encountered the vampire Nexull; however instead of the robust, elegant and graceful creature we encountered earlier we now found a distorted creature: twisted, stretched, and awkward in movement. What caused this radical conversion?

As always, there are mysteries within mysteries. But for now I must put quill to rest, as this sickening smell defeats me! I know I have a ritual somewhere for this!!!

Adventure 06 - Session 01
A General Request

Quick Recap:
* Traveled to Nenlast on Blacktongue’s Order
* Encountered Zombies, Minimal Survivors
* Uncovered Blacktongue Setup
* Defeated Tulka Deathrattle

We were thrice blessed to escape the doomed town of Nenlast with our skins intact. It was almost certain that our end would come from the hundreds of gnashing, wailing zombies which littered every crevice of the town. Their horrid shreiking cries will haunt my dreams for quite some time.

But as it is, we are alive… For now at least.

Given our former employer’s decision to ‘terminate’ our services (and ourselves!), we agreed that travel along the main road may not be advisable. It is unknown how far Blacktongue’s reach is, although certainly his agents have been seen as far east as the Five Leage and as west as Winterhaven.

Instead, we ran west, along seldom used footroads known best by our elven and goliath comrades. Our goal was to reach Fallcrest, safely, to what ends I don’t think any of us were 100% certain. However all those half-laid plans were put on hold when we met a most unusual creature; a creature named General Bradwarton.

It was a satyr, a creature of the Feywild of which many have entered the forests of the Realms. He spoke in an unusual accent, one mixed with excitement and enchantment – maybe that is how they speak in the Wild. His companions, huge beasts called Owlbears, a ferocious mixture of two creatures into a feral incarnation. I had once seen a painting of the creatures in the grand room of Lady Acolades of Djed Thymar. Hindsight now tells me that I should have focused more on the painting, and less on the sweet smell of Acolades…

But I digress… It not without reason that he had initial suspicions of us, travelling in our condition and away from the now-cursed Nenlast. And in fact it took a good measure of reassurement that we were not (err no longer) aligned with those who have caused such recent havoc within the Vale.

About Little Petunia
Even the smallest and youngest of Bradwarton’s owlbears soundly thrashed our goliath champion in a friendly wrestling match. I hesitate to think the wounds a full grown and unfriendly one could enact.

Bradwarton informed us that the evil found in Nenlast has spread elsewhere, and suspects one source to be within the Ruins of Fastormel, a town which fell during the Bloodspear War. The General urged us to investigate the issue, offering several items of value as pre-payment for services. One of which I currently possess; a magical cloak which provides additional protection against attacks to the body and mind. These items were part of Bradwarton’s order: The Scales of the Chameleon, which assist in outfitting adventuring parties who are allied to ridding the realms of evil.

Armed with new items, we travelled northeast, to Fastormel. A thick mist obscurred much, and on arrival we were hard-pressed to even see the structures in front of us. Finding what we believe to be the central tower, we descended below.

We were not alone…

Several humans, involved in unknown activity, were interrupted by our advance. Behind them, a trio of coiled serpents, Cobalt Serpents to be precise, giant snakes with debilitating gazes. Victory was to be ours, but not without expending a deal of our reserves. And this was only the entryway.

Moving past the entrance, we then found ourselves within a fiendishly trapped corridor; a single step in the wrong direction would cause razor-sharp teeth to project from holes lodged in the ceiling. Clever but devlish! To add complexity, a porticullis sealed shut, barring our exit! Our teifling, full of tricks, provided a means of bypassing the gate, but the trap-tiled corridor was still a concern each of us had to cross.

The corridor opened into a darkened room; movement could be heard within. A sunrod showed the area to contain several coffins amidst a cobweb lined room. And the undead that once rested within them.

Amongst the rabble of moaning and gnawing we heard a deep voice, “I am Nexull. To defeat me is impossible.” What this creature was, a vampire lord perhaps, is unclear. However he spoke with poise and confidence to assert that we were not the first to combat him. And potentially not the last…

The gnawing teeth and battering hands of Nexull’s minions proved difficult, even more so when Nexull managed to enthrall our goliath, exposing our vulnerabilty. Clever positioning and raw firepower proved the stronger however, and we were able to force Nexull to retreat (for the time being perhaps…).

As I close this entry, we are still within the walls of an unknown building. Heavy cobwebs obscure areas, and there is at least one passage unexplored. And potentially, a vampire lord waiting for revenge…

Adventure 05 - Session 06
Heroes to Henchmen - Part 8

Quick Recap:
* Solved the Murder of Tock
* Fled from a Hydra in Fallcrest
* Deposited the Succubus with Warlock’s Guild

It was certainly refreshing to be free from the yoke of impending trial, and to have a moment’s peace.

Too bad it did not last…

We sought to complete our business with our ‘employer’ Lord Blacktongue, and be done with the devilry with which our party had been drudged into. The witch Denoa was no more, and we were to collect our rewards. To his word, the vampire did compensate us as expected, with our Goliath acquiring a fearsome axe. May the Tymora grant us the luck to return the item, into the creature’s smoldering corpse!

But there was no time for idle daydreams, Blacktongue demanded another task from us, and he could not be bargained otherwise. A simple delivery, so it seemed, up to a colleague of his within the lake town of Nenlast. I felt somewhat relieved at this, as I knew it was home to our Elven lady. Maybe a reprieve nestled within a comfy Inn, sipping spiced cider while watching the final ships pull in their winter catch would be enjoyable.

If only we were so lucky…

We should have seen the signs. I should have seen the signs… The eery silence, the absence of people, and that faint taste of iron in the air. It wasn’t until we actually arrived in the village proper that we realized something was amiss. And by then, it was too late…

Zombies, hundreds of them… what must have been the whole town – converted into a sick mockery. We managed to encounter a handful of survivors; poor panicked souls too scared to be rational. Our best efforts to rescue them were only marginal – out of six original survivors only two managed to escape Nenlast at all.

About Sturdy Harry
In Nenlast we met an interesting companion of an injured halfling paladin. A boar mount, extremely obedient, almost to the point of having supernatural intelligence. Indeed the porcine possessed powers granted by divinity, and was a fierce ally in the cold twisting alleys of Nenlast.

It is sad his rider did not survive; hopefully Sturdy will find his way to Hammerfast or other sanctuary.

And there were others we could not save. A captain and crew, hopelessly battling some sort of sea creature! They cried for our assistance but we had to choose between them and our existing refugees, who were already running as fast as they could away from the lake.

And into the heart of the village.

I could hear the undead shuffling into motion with every noise we made, every twig broken heard by nearby creatures with only one desire: to feed. And a new enemy, a skeletal snake flew between rooftops, diving down to inflict venemous bites at leisure. Twice we smote the creature and it returned, again and again resurrected into it’s skeletal animation. What the blazes was this thing!?

We hoped that Blacktongue’s comrade, a ‘Tulka Deathrattle’, was still alive and able to shed light. We heard drums, and hoped it was in fact her calling for help. We raced, leaving the dead in burning heaps as we exhausted some of our best powers to reach aide quickly. It was only when we saw the skeletal serpent coiled around the shamaness that we knew the treachery of Blacktongue.

The village, destroyed by Tulka herself, now a shell of lifeless undead. At it’s center, the shamaness and her foul snake. The message we delivered was in fact our death sentence, as ordered by Blacktongue and to be carried out by the current inhabitants of Nenlast. Tulka had not only zombies, but shadowy allies with her which could drain your very essence – and we could hear the multitudes being drawn in by their drums, all hungry to feed!

We were indeed lucky to find a smith who made such beautifully balanced throwing axes. It was unfortunate that they were not sufficient to prevent his own death however.

By luck alone, we overcame Tulka and her minions, but the throngs proved far too many to destroy. As I write this, we are hiding, in our poor Elf’s former residence. If she is grieved by these events, she certainly hides it well, or is in shock. Or it could possibly be the elven way – my history of elven customs is shaky to say the least. Regardless, we will allow her time to recover what sentiments she must as well as investigate for surviving friends, but only as far as safety permits…

Beyond that moment – we are again unemployed. Our list of enemies has increased, and our ability to escape this village alive is in question.

Just another day of adventuring it seems! Bahamut Protect Us!

Adventure 05 - Session 05
Heroes to Henchmen - Part 7

Quick Recap:
* Defeated Denoa
* Acquired mysterious Amulet “The Child”
* Heading North to Hammerfast

I shall never in my life forget the cursed name of Milstone

And the mystery surrounding it, or ‘they’ shall I say. In fact, were it not for a compassionate ally (whom shall remain nameless, for their own safety), we may never have uncovered the bizarre series of events which led us to the House of Milstone, and to our freedom.

I move too fast. Let me begin this entry by recalling that we were to stand trial for the murder of young Tock Seekingstone, an official of Hammerfast and son of a prominent Guildmaster. By local custom were were permitted a tenday to build our case, afterwhich trial would begin with our without our presence.

In my days of training within the Order, it was mandatory to attend city trial. It was pounded into us that we must not only be able to define good from evil, but also that we understand the reasons for Law within society.

Of course with such ample background I felt it would be upon my shoulders to lead the defense, should our case go to trial.

Through a certain ‘gift’, we were able to unravel clues which pieced together the construction of the Temple outside Fallcrest, and hinted at other, more sinister plots. Further investigation led us back into the heart of Fallcrest itself!

The Succubus Captive

Indeed I am glad to be rid of that harpy beast! How our Eladrin managed to safely dispose of it he would not say. That alone leads me to worry for our future…

Our troubles however, did not end once we breached the city wall. Nor did it immediately lead us to Milstone, the enemy of which I wrote of earlier. Instead we travelled to the Docks, to an unassuming warehouse – oddly guarded by unknown eladrin. Inside the warehouse we faced a creature the likes of which we’d never seen: a many-headed serpent, of no allegiance to those who guarded her. Truly it was our first encounter where discretion was the better part of Valour – for we left those poor souls alone with the creature as we ran as far as we could from those Docks. But not without first gaining a clue…

Our next stop, a salty tavern on the worse side of town. We are looking for a man we cannot identify save his name: Milstone. Even with plied drink we could not loose lips, for the excitement was directed toward an exhibition of combat – an underground Arena!

About the Arena

I was extremely surprised when our tiefling decided to be our champion for the evening. One would assume that our Goliath would have that spotlight, given his size, stamina, and limited capacity to avoid confrontation.

Our teifling’s heroics gained us temporary comraderie amongst the crowd, which was sufficient to link a name to an address. Much to our surprise it was just round the corner!

On the dreary street known as Block Alley lay the House of Milstone. Dark and unkept, the facade matched the exterior of the other buildings occupying this lonely stretch.


Inside, we found not one, but two assassins, heavily tattooed halflings with foul demeanors to match. These creatures were masters of an unarmed form of combat, allowing them to redirect attacks to nearby allies! Only through sheer determination to survive did we best these two, capturing them for evidence as the true murderers of poor Tock Seekingstone.

The Soul Knife

From the Milstones, we have acquire a wholly evil item. A blade, capable of extracting the very soul from a dying creature! An item such as this can do no Good within the world, and I fear our Goliath fried may be tempted with it’s evil powers.

Adventure 05 - Session 04
Heroes to Henchmen - Part 6

Quick Recap:
* Saved Mushi and Galwik
* Accused of Murder in Hammerfast, Trial Pending
* Purchased Maps from Old Gaff
* Heading South to Denoa’s through across the mountains

It is done. The witch Denoa is no more.

And yet, although we have accomplished our mission, there are now more questions unanswered than when we began.

I write this entry still in her cave, the sickly smell of foul incenses burning my nostrils, while my comrades perform their standard plunder for rewards. And as I write, I ponder:

  • What was this creature, this hag in human’s clothing?
  • Why did Blacktongue desire her dead, when clearly she did not know of him?
  • Who belong to the names Denoa mentioned: Agatha, Stravalla, and Myrtlemai?
  • What of the strange amulet that can communicate through thoughts?

As I write and ponder, I also cannot deny the existence of gnawing pangs, urging my more baser desire to join my comrades in exploring what riches might be available. Already I possess an item of the former witch-hag, a leather sash designed to hold multiple flasks, elixirs and other bottled items.

Likewise did my companions acquire objects of magical nature, and both Mysterio and I agree there is still a good chance of finding tomes, scrolls, regeants, or other ritualistic components once the damage has been cleared away.

Damage. That is a very good word to describe the condition of things. Broken glass, overturned furniture, torn and shredded volumes, all of it scorched and burned. And above and below the wreckage are various bodies of strange creatures, from grub-like worms to imps to hounds of pure shadow. The creature Denoa – whatever she was – indeed challeged our endurance to the limits!

Questions, always more questions. There will be time for discussion of these matters, but that is not for now. For now I will close my entry, so that the child in me may join my companions in the hopeful search for wonderous treasure. Let tomorrow be the day of worry, of dangerous travels, of addressing wrongful accusations, of mysterious pendants, of bound devils and of accursed employers!

Until then – may Bahamut protect us (and Tymora favor us!)

Adventure 05 - Session 03
Heroes to Henchmen - Part 5

Quick Recap:
* Battled Lothar at Five League
* Defended caravan against one-eyed halfling
* Deposited dead dwarf magistrate at false temple

In Fallcrest, the party found me absent at the rendezvous hour, which I’m sure caused them much grief, dismay, alarm, and concern. In my stead I had sent High Priest Gundlemar to deliver a message, that I had to atone for my knowledge in the lies surrounding the dead magistrate, Tock Seekingstone.

I will say how grateful I am, that although my companions can at times display attitudes that are less than pious, less than honest, and less than noble, they do stick together and defend their own through thick and thin. Had they not, both Galwik and I would forever be encased within the icy tomb trap in the devils lair.

About Priest Tad
Not only did Grundlemar accompany the party to our rescue, but also the new found ‘Priest’ Tad. It seems the former guard has managed to convince himself of his devotion, and even now practices teachings within the House of the Sun. I swear though, if I hear him refer to our Divine Platinum Lord as ‘The Dragon Dude’ one more time, he’ll need Bahamut’s protection from my wrath!

Good Lord, have I just become my teachers?

Cold and wet, but alive, we headed to Hammerfast. Unsure of our fate, we met with two of the town leaders, Marsinda Goldspinner, whom was Galwik’s mother, and Geld Seekingtone, who was Tock’s father. Not even I could successfully implore our case to the furious Geld, who demanded death. High Master Goldspinner however, was more even tempered, and so began our ten-day before a trial would be held in the murder of Tock Seekingstone.


  • It was once a dwarven cemetary, raided by orcs, and now is a city
  • Dwarfs, Orcs, and the ghosts of both live under truce within the city
  • The city has four wards: Gate Ward, Trade Ward, Lore Ward, and Craft Ward
  • The city is along a major trade route between Sembia and Cormyr
  • The city imposes a tax on all goods and treasure entering the city

Our stay in Hammerfast was brief: we first had a witch to slay (if we could find her!)before we could build a case for our innocence. We did try briefly but unsuccessfully to gain an audience with any of the city leaders to explain our case. In fact the only person even inclined to speak with us openly was an elderly conman, interested in parting us from our coin in return for torn maps and shady information.

I would consider our time with Old Gaff wasted, were it not for a vital (and costly) piece of information regarding Denoa’s whereabouts: “Follow the Gargoyles”. Truly, we did find the winged demons, travelling southward and set out through the mountains towards them.

Not accustomed (and nor will I ever be!) to mountaineering, the journey was slow and perilous. The mountain range has many dangers, and our first day alone we raced through burning geyser fields, battled ogres across a rope bridge, even managed to outsmart an orc tribe by offering ‘magic lard’ (truly a stroke of genius on the part of Jub-Jub and Mysterio! Bravo gentlemen!).

We still have at least a day’s journey; the dawn’s early rays will light the path of the winged beasts which will eventually lead us to our wretched quarry.

Adventure 05 - Session 02
Heroes to Henchmen - Part 4

Quick Recap:
* Party tasked by Blacktongue to kill witch Denoa
* Defeated devil lair beneath false temple
* Carrying captured succubus and unknown dwarf corpse in Bag of Holding

We travelled eastward on horseback, along the Trade Road towards Hammerfast, where we believed we could get some answers regarding the whereabouts of the witch Denoa.

Although the journey is over easy ground, the distance could not be accomplished in a single day, at times we camped along the roadside, but we knew the Five League House would provide us with at least a night’s stay.

Felicity and the Five League House
I’m not sure why our elven companion is so adverse to entering this establishment by the main door. Whatever the case it’s become somewhat standard for her to make a delayed entrance through our room window… What will she ever do if we obtain a windowless one?

All I can say is that for his sake I hope the Innkeep never sets foot within Tymanther. The man, Barton, refused to even look in my direction as thrice I asked for services!

While Karrock took care of arrangements, Mysterio managed to roust a conversation up with a the leader of party of dwarfs, Galwik Goldspinner. We learned they were guarding a caravan from Hammerfast to Fallcrest. Versed in their tongue, he managed to overcome racial boundaries and soon we were all seated enjoying drinks and waging our earnings on friendly games of chance.

And then… trouble entered…

Skull and Bones
Although the fates have never blessed me as a successful gambler, I do enjoy testing my luck from time to time, especially when the game offers cultural insight.

Enter Skull and Bones…

The game is simple; a pair of dice and a wager against the outcome. Dwarfs however, seem to enjoy adding verbal insults, and even physical accosting, to the winner of each round. I assume this comes from their their aversion to losing money, their standards of physical endurance, and a basic love to punch things…

Lothar, with his entourage of thugs, entered the Five League. Wasn’t that mongrel supposed to be in Winterhaven? Apparently some of his associates were already in the establishment, and once eyes met he made his way towards us, barging into our game.

Apparently none of his pack knew dwarven customs for after the first Roost member received his ‘winnings’ a wild bar fight ensued. Taking sides, we joined the fray, allying with the dwarfs and against our employer. I take a modicum of comfort in knowing Barton’s misfortune as tables, chairs, mugs, and other furnishings were destroyed in the ensuing melee.

Although we won and forced the curs from the establishment, the dwarfs suffered many injuries, and it required quite a bit of coaxing (and gold) from Galwik to get us to replace their injured as caravan guards, who had to head back to Hammerfast for recovery.

The Corpse of the Dwarven Magistrate
The corpse we carry belongs to Tock Seekingstone, a young magistrate for Hammerfast’s Trade Guild. The dwarf apparently left his caravan early to secure trade agreements with Fallcrest and fell to the devils’ trap.

This would be fine if our eladrin did not speak falsely and comment that we saw this very dwarf alive in Fallcrest. Thinking quickly (and rashly) we stealthily redeposited the corpse back at the temple in the evening while on guard duty.

Now acting as caravan guard, we moved back towards Fallcrest, away from our original goal. Their cargo must have indeed been precious, for we were ambushed by a mixture of bandits, kobolds, and goblins, working for an eye-patched halfling. It seemed their prime target was to retrieve certain cargo items, and sacrificed many of their kind in their attempt. Only their leader escaped, barely, and without a single prize.

The One-eyed Halfling
We now have a name to match this villain: Serlek. Why he was ambushing the caravan, or how he even know if its cargo, is another unsolved mystery.

The day was ours, and we headed into Fallcrest triumphantly. For some of us, it was another mission accomplished; more coin for the purse. For others, it brought guilt which must be attoned…


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