07/10/06

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Aerberon

The Journal of Aerberon Redbeard, Shadow Knight

by Huw L Davies

Warning this story is based upon a character who has been questing, there may be some sections which give away scenario plots.

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5  Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10  Part 11   Part 12   Part 13 

Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18

Day 1

Arrived in Freeport. I didn’t really know what to expect, but this place is big

Now this is interesting. I seem to have found myself a bodyguard. He’s new to the city, and just joined the steel warriors. I think he’s come from the frozen north somewhere, though with his accent it is hard to tell. Half the time I’m not even sure what language he’s speaking. Judging by the way he looks, he may not be entirely human, I have heard some strange things about the people who live up there and their “proclivities” shall we say Still, he seems of sturdy enough stock (whatever that stock may be) if somewhat lacking in intelligence and the social graces. I plan on just letting him stand in front and have people try and hit him rather than me. I’ve always found it’s so much easier to kill things when they are not hitting you back.

I’ve managed to get him a job as a bouncer in the Hogcaller's Inn. But that was not without him almost starting a fight with the innkeeper (See what I mean about lacking the social graces?) Still, he can fight, appears intimidating and is blasted hard to hit, all of which is more than a little useful.

Tomorrow we go down into the sewers, find the source of the undead that have been causing trouble and deal with it. Of course, I think I may have different ideas about how to deal with it than the Steel Warriors do, but that’s a bridge to cross when we come to it.

Day 2

That was easier than I thought. The skeletons down there didn’t even touch me. And it was a simple matter to defang the trap. Someone’s twisted idea of a joke by the looks of it! Have to find them and then offer my hearty congratulations!

Then of course, I need to remind them to do it somewhere else. We don’t want the city watch or other idiots traipsing around down here too often. That will just cause problems.

Of course, I did find something very interesting. I now know a way into the market place down there. I had heard of it of course, but it has been difficult to find. Hard to wander around on the surface and ask about it. People might get entirely the wrong sort of idea about me, either that or they might get the truth which is just as bad.

I shall have to investigate the area properly tomorrow.

Day 3

I have left the muscle in the inn (I have finally worked out that his name is Brand, must remember that.) and headed back down. This market place is more than a little interesting, if expensive. There is all sorts of stuff on sale here. Of course, much of it is very expensive. I have found a church too, and the other entrances which will make life, so much easier.

Day 6

Not much going on. Have thoroughly explored the market and city down there now. My first impression of everything being more than a little expensive seems justified  I will need to get my hands on more money. Lots more money. I wonder if there are any rich merchants with unmarried daughters in Freeport?

Day 7

Back on the surface now, trying to fine tune the plan and find a suitable target. Strangely, I was visited by a Dark Elf of all things. It seems he had heard of my interest in poisons, but not my perilous financial situation. Still some of his wares are interesting and bare future scrutiny. I must find the money from somewhere.

Day 8

No luck with the rich merchants, but I do keep hearing rumours about some bandits attacking caravans. I did consider hiring myself on as a caravan guard to help with the cash situation, but the Steel Warriors pre-empted me and asked me to look into it directly. It’s not like I had too much else to do, as the search for the merchants seems to have stalled. Lets see if I can get a better deal if I take this Brand fellow with me.

Day 9

Brand grip of the social graces seems to be slipping even more. He must have fallen in with a bad crowd in that inn. He seems to think that I owe him something and is getting paranoid about checking his money. It’s almost as if he suspects that I would try and steal from him. Most peculiar. Someone must have been poisoning his mind. Why would I want to steal from him? If I did, I would make sure I couldn’t be caught. He may be stupid, but he could still do a lot of damage to me. I need to keep him facing away from me.

Still, I have hired us both on as caravan guards. It seems the caravans are only being attacked on their way to Freeport. I will have to renegotiate the fees for the return journey.

Day 17

Boring journey there. Did meet a few survivors of the most recent attack. It is more than a little odd that these bandits do not kill people, just knock them out and take all the goods. Interesting, if a bit slow witted on the part of the bandits.

It seems like we will also be joined by another barbarian on the way back. This ones accent is even worse, and if Brand has bear blood in his ancestry somewhere, this one must be related to a troll. His hair is matted and straggly and he seems to want to paint himself with mud and strange dyes. The few words I did understand of his conversation with Brand consisted of talking about drinking and how to eat the offal of mammoths. The word barbarian has never seemed more appropriate.

He might still have his uses however. He seems to hit at least as hard as Brand, though he appears to be a Beast Lord rather than a warrior.

Day 23

We found the bandits at last. They are Orcs. The leader seems to be a strange little bleeder called Roderick, and he has a lisp. How charming. He had a good fight with Brand, it was interesting watching the big bear start foaming at the mouth and becoming even more incoherent than normal. It would have been funny if Roderick hadn’t knocked him out and then me out. Little git. He’s just made the biggest mistake of his life.

Day 25

We were attacked by Bixies. They were horrid little things, kind of a cross between a bee and a pixie. We did manage to dispatch them, but not before they had annoyed me no end and almost managed to poison me twice. The Beast lord managed to get some of their stingers though, which he assures everyone can be useful. (At least that’s what I think he said. His exact words were, as far as I can decipher them – Och ae, these wee stingers can be way useful, can do a lotae damage.) It worries me slightly that I seem to be better able to understand him the longer I am with him. I hope that none of his accent rubs off when I get back to civilisation.

Day 26

We seem to be wandering too close to Kthyca woods. Some sort of Skeleton attempted to walk off with our livestock. Bloody thing hit me into the middle of next week. (I thought that they were supposed to be on my side. I seems I shall have to do a lot more research.)

Day 27

We run into a convoy of fire beetles. They attacked the beastlord, but we dealt with them. Apparently their eyes would be worth something if we could preserve them. That’s worth knowing for later. Sadly, we have no way of preserving the eyes.

Day 28

Finally, we have tracked the Orcs back to their lair. It’s a tree that they have turned into some sort of tower. There are too many of them for an attack by our limited forces, so we have withdrawn for now. But we will be back.

Day 35

We are now ready to return and deal with Roderick. Sadly we appear to have accumulated a cleric of Rodcet Nife, who is insistent upon telling us all how great his god is. He is a law abiding, sanctimonious, stuck up prick. What’s more he has a woman’s name. Heulwyn. It figures of course. His priesthood is well known for some of their habits. Say something sappy and law abiding, and then take the altar boys around the back for a quick buggering. It’s just a pity that the other two in the group seem to want the bastard alive. Hopefully he will have an unfortunate “accident” somewhere along the way. Why did they have to find such a sap as their healing? To make things worse he can’t heal me either! He doesn’t know why of course. (So let’s add idiocy to his faults. Actually in his case, idiocy would be a virtue.) I’m not about to tell him either, at least not yet. Maybe just before I kill him. The look on his face when he finally realizes who exactly I am should be well worth it. Oh, for the money to buy some poison to kill him now.

Day 42

Boring journey back to the tree. As we arrive it seems that the orcs are having some sort of party. One of the Barbarians seems to have developed a grasp of strategy (I must be rubbing off on him, I doubt he would have had the brains to come up with it on his own.) We attempted to sneak up on them. Sadly it didn’t work. They spotted us as we arrived. I took my lumps, but we managed to deal with them. Fortunately I came up with the good idea of setting fire to the ropes they were using to climb down. That killed most of them. We found Roderick all safely tied up at the top of the tree, I resisted my immediate impulse to kill him, and managed to stop Brand from doing so to. (It seems he was annoyed that Roderick had bested him in a fair fight.) Good job we did, it seems that Roderick was adopted by one of the higher muckty mucks in the Steel Warriors. It also transpires that this whole thing was one giant insurance sham.  Interesting, now there is some information that should be passed on.

Day 49

Back in Freeport, and the information is passed on. To the Steel warriors, and to the church.

Day 56

I’m back in the city, having spent the best part of a week training. When I wasn’t in the practice yards sparring, I was spending my time in the library or in the reliquary. I don’t intend to be caught flat footed by undead again. I suspect I will still find it a bit difficult to distinguish between exact types of undead – it’s easy enough to distinguish between general types, zombies and skeletons are easy enough to tell apart (Slow lumbering undead with flesh – zombies, slow lumbering undead without flesh –skeletons. That’s easy.) But anything else, well, that’s more difficult. The reliquary only contains bit and pieces a finger bone here, a shrunken head or skull there and unanimated they don’t look much different to the untrained eye.

I still have not been able to summon enough arcane energies to actually cast a spell. I am assured that I apparently know the form, but have yet to acquire the power. Hopefully I can acquire it soon without having to sit and contemplate the inner naval of the universe like the necromancers do.

Other than that, the last week or so has been quiet. I know that the church are putting feelers out to those who Roderick has accused of being in his insurance scam, sadly my own enquires in the mercantile field are progressing much more slowly. One or two merchants have foppish sons, but that’s of no use to me.  So it’s back up to the surface, see what I can find to keep the finances ticking over.

Day 57

Interesting rumours. After filtering out the rubbish and general useless information. (Treasure maps? How gullible do people think I am?) it seems that my best chance of finding money is dealing with a goblin incursion. Apparently they been turning up a lot recently. There’s even a bounty on their heads. Of course, I shall have to drag Brand away from the tavern. (He seems to have already forgotten that I got him the job as bouncer there, after his “You – give me job” tactic failed to work. Such ingratitude!)

Day 58

Brand, of course, insisted that we brought the other barbarian. He of course insisted that we brought the cleric. My joy is almost entirely unconfined. Would it be too much to wish for that a goblin gets in a lucky shot and kills the pious idiot? One can only hope.

Day 59

One of the things that nice people are not supposed to do is laugh at the misfortunes of others. My reaction to that has always been to laugh when they aren’t looking at you.

This is particularly amusing. Duncan, the beast lord, has managed to get himself a disease. Which he caught when a diseased beast bit him. Well, it was a plague rat, so what do you expect?

What’s more that pious git can’t heal him, just makes occasional muttering noises (I am sure he is trying to convince people is in fact a spell – it doesn’t work with me however.) Sadly, Duncan still doesn’t believe that we should get rid of the cleric.

Day 60

Ah, an inn. I would hardly call this place civilisation, it’s a real one ox village, and far too reminiscent of where I grew up. But at least it has a bath, and I have a room where I can sleep on my own – away from the moral sermon of the day.

My resolve is being sorely tested. If he keeps this up, he will soon by shorter. By about a head.

Day 62

Another inn, another bath, another chance to get away from the cleric. They won’t let Beast lord in this one, but he seems to be content staying with the horses anyway.

Day 66

Dealt with a goblin raiding party on the way into a village. There was a small group, about six or so. My initial impressions, small, smelly and green, with no money, what’s more, they didn’t even harm the cleric. ARGH! There was not a scratch on him.

This is getting frustrating.

Duncan identified the goblins as some clan or other (I will admit to not paying much attention as he did so, and then I couldn’t be bothered to ask – they all look the same to me anyway, and I don’t really care. They are like weeds to the garden, it might be a useful plant, but you don’t really care, as you don’t want it where it is.)  After I had chopped the heads off, Duncan then decides to point out that we don’t need them, just the war beads.

Oh well, I suppose that does make things easier for Brand to carry though.

Later on, we came to the village. It had just been attacked by more of the goblins, and they had carried off a number of people. They have offered us a minor reward for bringing back their people. Music to my ears (Well the reward bit anyway.) We are staying here overnight, in a rather crude inn. Still, it has walls and far more importantly, no preaching.

Day 67

We ran into another bunch of goblins around Lunchtime, and again none of them hit the cleric. He keeps piffling on about his god smiling on him, and I get the horrible feeling (right between the shoulder blades where any competent assassin would stick the knife) that he is right.

Brand, true to form, started frothing at the mouth and almost fell over. He seems to do that an awful lot. I think in the end we got another twelve or so. (Nothing worthwhile on the corpses. Again.)

We pushed on, and just before dark, we came to, well, perhaps the best description is a cave. We went in and got bushwhacked.  Not good. The little buggers seem to be far too organised and far too clever.

Something doesn’t seem right.

Being as we were being ambushed, we rushed straight in. That was not a good move. All of a sudden we were in a family cave, with about twenty-five of the buggers charging at us. (Well, at Brand, as he was the one who walked into the cave)

We managed to adapt some rudimentary strategy and bottled them up –only four of them could get at us at a time. Even so, I will have to admit that I was worried, a sense of worry that just deepened when the big goblins started making an appearance. The ones we had been fighting were only about four feet tall; these were about five feet tall and looked a good deal nastier (Still green and ugly though!)

We managed to dispatch them all, and one hit the cleric! (Not hard enough as he survived.)

Well, we dispatched the men, despite my protestations the others let the female goblins and their whelps go. It was a mistake. Apparently they seem to have some sort of stupid scruples about not killing children and women! Anything that can pick up a sword and use it is dangerous. Women can kill you just as easily as men.

Anyway, after about twenty minutes of fighting (I’m guessing here, combat has a way of either being much longer or much shorter than you think. I heard an alchemist babble something about some sort of chemical in your brain or something. It’s not like I wanted an explanation, I just wanted some preserving fluid.)

We were left with a pile of corpses, and we were in an edifice that goblins could not have constructed.

Have I mentioned yet how I hate mysteries? Well, I do. A search of the place didn’t help, we spent a couple of hours searching this and adjoining rooms, and all we kept finding were secret doors and more ways to get around the same set of rooms. Eventually we did find a door that led off in a new direction. It led to a room, with four guards and a cleric of Zebuxoruk. That just made my day!

I have mentioned that I hate mysteries haven’t I? Well I also hate surprises, just about as much. Anyway, when we finally defeated this lot, we had a room to sleep in. And boy did I need it. I had just spent a day getting battered, bruised and generally cut up, as various smelly annoying little runts tried to kill me, and failed to kill the cleric, and I had yet to get anything out of it. No significant amounts of money had been found, and as I was going to sleep all I could here in my ears were the prayers of that blasted cleric.

Day 68

My dreams were full of death and mutilation. Very pleasant they were too. I think in all I came up with about thirty ways to kill the cleric, including using various hot torture implements. Anyway, my dreams were rudely interrupted, and we were back off, trying to solve a mystery. After a while it transpired that we hadn’t actually got rid of all of the goblins, we ran into a patrol of the small green ones, and managed to barricade most of the bigger goblins in another room in this increasingly annoying and labyrinthine complex.

In doing so, we found the prisoners they had taken from the village, and when we were attempting to smoke the goblins out, we discovered that there was a secret passage in the cells (What a blasted stupid place to put a secret passage!)

We followed it down, to another level beneath this one.

It first it appeared to simply be a big cavern. In one corner was chained what appeared to be a huge dog of some sort. The Beast lord of course tried to explain what type of dog it was, but I don’t really care.

It might have been big and nasty, but as long as it was on a chain and over there out of the way, it was totally irrelevant as far as I was concerned. We could see some other movement in the cavern, and the Beast lord went to investigate, and discovered that there were also four trolls there. (He also discovered that the best way to hide from trolls is not to cast a shadow over them!)

We adopted the same bottling technique we had with the goblins (My superior grasp of strategy seems to be rubbing off on them) and managed to kill two of them. They however did manage to overwhelm Brand – despite his usual frothing at the mouth party piece – and the rest of us decided that a strategic retreat was in order. Sadly I wasn’t able to successfully trip the cleric as we retreated.

Day 69

Back at the village they were pathetically grateful for rescuing their men folk (Not enough to give us a proper reward mind you.) Someone even tried to tell me that virtue was it’s own reward. Maybe for pious dimwits, but hey I’m neither pious nor dim-witted, so I prefer cold hard gold. Platinum or gems will do if that is all the can be found though, I’m not fussy.

There was a visiting cleric that cured Duncan’s ailment. (Which was, I suppose, useful, while he ailment was amusing it’s far better to have him at full hitting strength if he’s hitting the enemy.)

Sadly, this just sparked a long argument with Duncan about going back to retrieve Brand’s body. We had almost settled it, when one of Brand’s brothers walked into the village. The family resemblance was obvious (it must be the bear ancestry or something similar)

This one was called Olaf and his arrival settled the argument. They were going back, with or without me, and I was certainly not going to let them keep any money there to themselves.

In the end, we managed to attract a sizable enough party.

There was myself, Duncan, Olaf (who, if anything had an even worse accent and looked even bigger than his brother) the bloody cleric, Alayna (one of the women of the village, not a bad looking wench and apparently passable with a sword) and Dolan (yet another cleric).

This one is a cleric of Erollisi Marr of all things. Guess what? The useless lump of crap is not only busy rutting with Alayna, but he can’t heal me either! For a while I could almost be convinced that this was curse.

I know they probably wouldn’t want a cleric of Bertoxxulous (I wouldn’t either, quickest way to let everyone know who, or rather what, I am) but can’t we find a cleric of Bristlebane, Quellious, Solusek Ro or The Rathe? They might be able to heal me at least, even if we disagree on some philosophical matters. And, if they are useful, I will be less likely to want to brutally slaughter them. Still, what is it someone once told me? Something like keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer?

Day 70

We arrive back at the mountain, fully laden with equipment and an ox cart to carry away any available booty. (Which given our previous record seems to be something of a forlorn hope.) On the journey here, I’ve been hectored from both sides and am in the perfect mood to kill anything that gets in the way.

We found the first troll standing guard outside the room where the goblins had barricaded themselves. With a number of us surrounding him, we managed to defeat this one with some ease.

Strangely there was no one else on this upper level – the room that the goblins had barricaded themselves in was now empty, and thoroughly trashed. We had a good search anyway, and soon discovered the goblin chieftain’s quarters, and we finally got some money, at a quick glance it was around three thousand which was something to put on the cart.

Then we moved down a level. The big beastie (The beast lord is rubbing off on me, which is not good) was still there in the corner, munching away on something. Despite the three we had dispatched there were still four trolls sitting around a fire. Once again we managed to draw them into a bottleneck and this time we successfully dispatched them. They did not have anything worthwhile on them, but I took great pleasure in feeding their remains to the chained up creature. Serves them right. There was however no sign of Brands body or remains, but we did find another passage leading down. What is going on here?

Down we went, taking our time. There were yet more guards (humans again) all armed the same way as the ones we had dispatched above and all with the holy symbol of Zebuxoruk.

Finally we found a heavily barred door.

From behind it there was chanting (It sounded familiar – well, kind of, it sounded like something I should know, though I don’t know why.  It was one of those awkward prickling sensations that lay in your mind, hinting at something, but never revealing what it actually is.)  Anyway, behind the door, as anyone with brains would probably have guessed, more chain mailed guards.

This time however, they weren’t just standing around, they were guarding something.

That something was a naked Brand. (Well, as naked as he ever gets under all that hair anyway.) Now, I am quite open minded I think, but there are clearly some perversions that just should not see the light of day. A naked, oiled barbarian chained to a table is pretty high up on the list. 

The guards fought well, as did a strange, cloaked figure (A necromancer, judging by the fact he raised some skeletons and ran. It was only after he had raised the skeletons that I recognised the earlier chanting.)

After we had killed these guards (and realising that we had lost count of exactly how many we had dispatched) we rescued Brand, and gave him some equipment. Have you ever had one of those moments where you did not know where to place your eyes? This was one of them. I think I was reduced to passing clothes armour or weapons over my shoulder and talking to the wall.)

When Brand was finally decent, and with Olaf stood next to him, you could see the family resemblance. (Though maybe all shaved bears look like that, I don’t know.)

For once we were fortunate to have enough barbarian in the party.   Olaf’s presence managed to calm his brother down, and directed his anger in a far more profitable direction. (Against the people who infested this place rather than us.)

The only other thing on this level appeared to be a long corridor that stretched for miles and miles. It didn’t go anywhere and we came back, giving the rest of the floor a detailed search.

Guess what?

Yes. Another secret door, once again leading down. (How far down does this place go? How deep can it go?)

This time there were steps that led us to a corridor, with alcoves on either side. Fortunately for us (Well, for me anyway) the brothers were in front.

As they advanced two crossbow bolts shot out of the far wall, and two spells arched out of the alcoves. Olaf was caught in a column of fire. He was incinerated almost instantly and fell to the ground a crisped cinder.  Brand went nuts (again) and charged the wall.  Duncan (Who seems a lot more level headed for a barbarian) charged one mage while I charged the other. In close combat the wizards spells were much less use, and I quickly dispatched mine.

Combat continued below, but it seemed to be going well, so I searched the wizard’s corpse, looking for clues.  Didn’t find any, just a few gems, a wand, nice looking bracers (kept them), jewellery and a runed, obviously magical dagger. This was a lot of stuff to look into once I got back to Freeport.

As I finished pocketing of all this, the sound of combat from below trailed off.  I risked poking my head around the alcove and a further crossbow bolt went strumming past my ear.  Obviously, Brand had not succeeded in getting at the archers.  I wasn’t impressed at this.

Duncan shouted that he had found rooms on the other side, and I risked jumping across (Narrowly avoiding being skewered, which did not improve my mood.)  Eventually, the other’s followed.

They were yet more guards, and after dispatching this lot. (How many more of them are there?) The rooms that Duncan had discovered were simply the quarters of the mages and the guard barracks. There wasn’t much there, so we retreated to the barracks, to allow the clerics to recover.

While they were recovering we heard noises and sounds, almost as if the miscreants who ran this place were running scared of us (Not that I would blame them of course.) After an hour, we left, and we found another secret door, but only because one of the fleeing multitude was bleeding.

Does this place go on forever?

This led down into a huge vaulted chamber. Two tall figures appeared to guard the one end. It quickly turned out they were un-dead, and Heulwyn turned them, enabling us to batter them to pieces without too much effort.

Of course there were arrow slits and crossbow bolts again, and once more we were faced with guards. These fought more fiercely that before, and it soon transpired that this was because they were the last line of defence.

Other than one chained creature trapped in a pool of larva (A fire elemental apparently. I was not in the mood to free it, but it did enjoy the meal of guards I gave it.) Everyone else had fled. They had vacated the place in a hurry, leaving clothes and documents (but taking all the money and treasure with them! Evil bastards.)

After a quick glance it was readily apparent that these documents were invasion plans. They were planning to attack Freeport!  Now that information could be worth a lot in the right hands.  Before I even got a chance to thoroughly read them however, Duncan had squirreled them away somewhere on his person. Oh well, I suppose he could carry them. The only other thing on this floor was a library – We could take some books back, they would have to be valuable. Other than that however, there was nothing here.

Day 71

We have finally managed to load the cart and set off back to the village.  Once there, we started the task of splitting up some of the money.  Once the warrior and the cleric had their money they wasted no time in leaving us.  They were gone quicker than greased rats.  It was simply me and my original travelling companions again.  Plus a cart, an ox, and a depressingly small amount of loot.

Day 75

The Beast lord obviously knows very little about oxen.  The blasted thing has had a horrible case of flatulence for most of the day.  It smells worse than a three week old corpse. What has it been eating?

Day 77

A wasted day.  That is probably the best way I can describe today.  We are stuck in some little village, while the cart is repaired. (The wheel fell off.)  Village life is as dull and useless as I remember it.  I did however dream again, the violence and destruction in my sleeping hours seemed somehow less pleasant this time. And the old man appeared in my dreams again.  It may be that being back in a village has somehow stimulated my memory.

Day 81

ARGH! Duncan has managed to completely mess things up. He gave the documents to the Militia. The Steel Warriors are now extremely unhappy with me.

To make things worse after spending one hundred gold pieces to get the dagger identified, it was not magical. It just had Dark elf script on it. Apparently it was given to the mage by someone called D’vin (who he is, I don’t know, but I should find out.)

Oh well, at least the church are not annoyed with me, although the books we brought back weren’t as valuable as I thought.

I think I shall be spending some time with my head down, to keep out of the way.

Day 83

People have all sorts of theories on dreams. Some think that they are little more than the fevered workings of the sleeping mind. Some think that they exist in a world of their own and can even act as a gateway between worlds.  Right now, I am hoping that the first is true - despite the fact that half the time my dreams are about wenching, and half the time are full of decayed corpses.

The old man is back in my dreams, which does not impress me at all. The fool has no more to teach me, and if his sprit is indeed trying to reach me, then he is an irritant rather than anything else.

It confirms my opinion that he was a fool who could not recognise the truth. If your pupil stabs you in the back, I think that it should confirm that the apprenticeship is over.

Permanently

He had nothing more to teach me then and he certainly has nothing more to teach me now. I am further along in the craft than he ever was.

Of course, it could be my own mind trying to tell me something. But the possibility is remote, and I do not understand what it is trying to say.

Day 87

My sleep has been easier the last few nights, and things appear to be slowly calming down on the surface. There have been fewer of the snide glances and whispered comments.  

I shall soon have to venture out again; the money that the goblins had is beginning to run out (thought it did buy me a nice suit of armour – as it did for Brand I notice when I see him.)

It is regrettable that the city has not exactly proved charitable despite the fact that we brought back evidence of a planned attack. Some people are so ungrateful.

I have started putting feelers out for work, and we shall see what happens.

Day 88

I thought I had turned up a number of possibly interesting tasks. The first potential employer I met in the grub and grog. The job was nothing of the sort. In fact he was simply trying to sell me a treasure map. A map that any idiot could have seen was quite clearly a fake.

I have had committed the face of the man who attempted this perfidy to memory, for he ran away when it became clear that I had spotted his attempted larceny. I will deal with him when I catch him.

The others were ridiculous in one form or another, involving either great amount of travelling or unacceptable risks.

Day 89

At last a reasonable task has presented itself.

It seems that the church is offering five hundred gold pieces for information on the monolith that stretches from the under city up into the market place above. A previous party had been sent, but afterwards the tunnels underground were collapsed.

I suppose I should take the others, lets see how little they will do it for shall we?

After some haggling I managed to convince Brand to undertake the task for seventy-five gold pieces. (If him and Duncan take the same amount, then I will have a good three hundred and fifty gold pieces for this endeavor.)  I have also persuaded Brand not to bring that pesky cleric. He will persuade Duncan to join us tomorrow morning, and I will take them to look at the tunnels. It would be interesting to find out how they were collapsed. I presume it would be magic, but it may give us some better idea of what we are dealing with.

Day 90

I was left waiting until 10 bells in the grub and grog. Time keeping is quite clearly not one of Brand’s strong points. It seems that they were drinking at the gypsy camp last night.

This place has not improved since my last visit, though it does seem quieter now. I overhear some speculation that Brand has scared off some of the shadier customers. This is, in some ways, a pity. I would have liked to talk to some of them. I have yet to be able to successfully cultivate any contacts in the thieves’ guild, despite my efforts below. Some of the guild were known to frequent here.

It would be worth knowing a fence and being able to pass off goods. Never mind. The only other information of note that I picked up was that one of the inns customers was helping them lower the rat population and collecting the steel warriors bounty on their heads.

The food was bland but palatable, and the drink was, as always, little more than passable. I was therefore more than relieved to finally get moving.

I took both the barbarians to the well-known entrance to the under city, past the place they sometimes refer to as a portal.

We headed into the area known as the pool, and encountered some of the drowned ones. We are able to dispatch two of them but Duncan, not blessed with my knowledge of the undead, was knocked over. (Well if he insists on standing in front of both me and Brand, it serves him right)

Brand took him to the healer, while I headed back into the under city, to find a better way of undertaking the task.

The priest of Innoruk was most forthcoming with information, even though he did charge me a platinum piece for the privilege.  It seemed that there was a door in the monolith, which would be unlocked by the light of the full moon (a night hence.)

The monolith, or so it was claimed, dated from ancient times, when the dark elves ruled what is now Freeport, or perhaps even before.  It seemed to have something to do with a group called the Brotherhood of the four winds. A small group of some minimal experience was sent to investigate. Before disappearing, one of them did pass on the information that he saw a face in the top of the monolith. Shortly afterwards, they disappeared, and the tunnels in the under city were collapsed.  The priest of Innoruk did however agree to give us one thousand gold pieces

I headed back and found, to my dismay, that the healer who had come to heal Duncan was the bloody cleric. When hearing the news that I now had, my stalwart companions asked for more money. Huewlyn (finally showing something akin to intelligence, though it’s illuminating flash was characteristically brief) asked where the money was coming from, and who was paying. Using my innate charm and poise, I managed to persuade him it was from a trustworthy source (which is of course, true. A least as far as I am concerned.) and he needed to know no more.

I made a show of listening to them, and then left, ostensibly to put the case to our employers, while in actuality I went for lunch. When I came back I put it to them that I had agreed one hundred gold pieces each with my employer. They agreed to this and we agreed to set out the next night.

In the meantime, however we had some time to kill, so in order to partially rebuild my standing with the steel warriors, I persuaded them to undertake some rat hunting. Duncan being a beast lord managed to find a dozy of a spot. It seemed though that he had a natural affinity for plague rats because that is what he found. It rushed at him from the hole he had found ,scrabbling and attempting to bite. As we killed it another rushed out of the hole. That one fell with a mighty swing of Brands mace. I volunteered to search the hole, and drew out another four rats, all of which were fixated on me, probably because I had invaded their nest. Once they were dispatched, back in I went, and we started to search through the rubble. I found another rat, and a nice shiny dagger. The rat heads were quickly passed off to the guild and we retired for the remains of the night.

Day 91

My sleep was disturbed again, though this time by the sound of the practice of living warriors rather than visions of dead men. In fact my sleep was dreamless for the first time in many a week.

That evening we were to meet in the inn near the market square. It was a Steel Warriors inn, and was a perfect place to meet. When we got there the Barbarians were impressed that the inn sold mammoth stakes.  I ordered one simply to be sociable.  Duncan spent some time asking for it to come in slice of bread, or with strange accruements. Apparently one of the clans of the north had a particular way of serving mammoth stake that Duncan was partial too.

While Duncan was ordering his food, the innkeeper let some information that he should not have done slip. He almost told the cleric what I was. I managed to smooth things over, and repair the damage he had done, but I have not forgotten it.

With the meal we had a variety of drinks. The cleric and myself had wine, Brand a stout and Duncan whiskey. They quickly seemed to get drunk. The clerics eyes went all glassy and he got preachier than ever in his declarations that his god loved us, while both the northmen’s accent got more impenetrable. (I didn’t think such a thing was possible.)

It was too good an opportunity to miss however. If I could get the cleric drunk, he could blunder into something and hopefully die (Or maybe choke on his own vomit – though I doubt his sermons made him want to vomit as much as they made me want too. . .) either way no blame could be attached to me.

I ordered another round of drinks for the others, while I simply supped water. The plan backfired. While the cleric stopped drinking, Duncan became drunken very very quickly. He began telling us ribald jokes about polar bears, exclaiming that he loved various people (Though thankfully not me – he did however attempt to hug me on one occasion however, which I did avoid.)  He had to be carried to a room in the inn. The day was wasted. On the way home however, I did spot the door in the monolith at least I now know how to get in.

Day 92

The night rolled around without any further incident. It seems that Duncan retains little memory of the events of last night, and even seems to think that it was Brand that was drunk and incapable. I will never understand these barbarians.

Tonight, while we ate in the inn, we wisely did not drink. Yet, when we went back to the monolith, the door seemed to have moved.  It must have been magic. We found it eventually and made our way slowly and carefully inside. The room inside was full of runes, the likes of which I had not seen before. I tried to commit some to memory, and when looking at the far wall discovered that some were set deeply into the wall itself, forming a crude sort of ladder. Being brave (and somewhat foolhardy it later transpired) I set off up. 

The ladder led to what could only be called an observation gallery. It was also occupied. A huge eyeball with tentacles turned and looked at me. For a second we both stared at each other (Easier in it’s case than mine of course.) It blinked first. It hit   me. Hard.

I responded in kind of course. Brand and Duncan were quickly into the room, and we dispatched it. Around it, arranged neatly in chronological order, were scrolls detailing comings and goings into the city. The scrolls however didn’t stop there they also gave details on people’s thoughts. This could be invaluable, and of course, proved to be a greater headache that the creature was.

As soon as the cleric was aware of the scrolls, he became very concerned that they should all go to his church. I was, of course, concerned that none of it should. We had long and fraught discussions. He offered to buy all the scrolls (At some insulting figure way below the market value, like half a gold piece each. As if we were all idiots! Brand of course, wanted everything to go back to the Steel Warriors – which would also be useful for me, while Duncan was keen to give them to the militia.)

In the end we agreed to defer any decision until after we had thoroughly investigated the rest of the monolith.

Searching downstairs we found a trap door in the floor. Beneath it there was a spiral staircase leading into a circular chamber. We were only half way down the stairs when the cleric swore. 

It appears we had triggered a magical trap. The door at the far side of the chamber opened, and a strange dark elf wizard came through. He was not alive, but not undead – at least in any way I could determine. A beast lord backed him up. We dealt with them quickly and efficiently.

Beyond them was a corridor lined with six alcoves. At the end was a door. We walked down the corridor, looking at the alcoves as we went. There were the same sort of runes as above, though there were also newer runes, that appeared to be in a similar script, depicting a staff smashing Freeport. It seems we had discovered yet another attempt to take over the city.

The door at the far end was not locked. We were however not prepared for what was behind it. As soon as we opened the door, we were assailed by hurricane force winds and several skeletons started to come towards us from the room beyond. We managed to shut the door, and duck into the alcoves. The cleric turned some of the skeletons, and we dispatched the others.  We could find no way of turning the wind off and we had to fight against into the room beyond. 

There was a door there. I opened and was immediately struck by a minotaur. I backed off, finally making into the first corridor. I shut the door and spotted a necromancer at the end of the corridor. I charged off towards him and was eventually joined by Brand. The Minotaur came out through the far door and fought with Duncan.

Brand and I defeated the necromancer, but not before he had cast a spell on me. My shadow turned, twisted and fought against me. He must also have cast another spell before I hit him, which seemed to curse my axe; it also twisted, turned and fought against me.)  I dragged the necromancer’s corpse into an alcove and began searching through his pocket for some way of turning off the wind. None seemed to exist. This was strange.

The Minotaur charged towards and attacked me, presumably because I had slain his master. Due to my cursed weapon, which still bucked and fought against me despite the death of the necromancer, he landed two palpable blows and I fell unconscious.

I was woken by the cleric of all people, and we searched through the loot off the bodies. There was not much of interest. A couple of rings, Brand took one, and I took the other, two spell books (Again Brand took one and I took the necromancers) a mace, and small change. There was also a key, but nothing that turned off the wind. Steeling ourselves, and with little choice, we headed back down the corridor, into the howling gale.

We quickly made into the corridor that the Minotaur was guarding. There was not much there. A few corridors that led to collapsed piles of rock – presumably then there was a way into the under city here. Interesting indeed. We did however finally find a large dining room, complete with several scrolls and books. A quick read revealed that once again the church of Zebuxoruk was behind this. This is beginning to really annoy me. Really annoy me.

There was also a locked door at the other end of the room, and being as Brand is continuously boasting about his ability with locks, I gave him the key and stood well back. If there were any traps there, he couldn’t avoid setting them off at his size, still, it turned out to be prudent in the extreme. Brand opened the door without any trouble, but then got mightily walloped by a lightening bolt.

Beyond was the treasure room. At least this lot had not managed to abscond with everything. Some luck at last. However, the trap was not discharged. Duncan attempted to enter the room, and also got zapped. Eventually we hit upon the idea of using the table as a shield. It seemed a shame to mess up the nice axe that the Minotaur has so generously given me, so I used my old one to trim the table.

Eventually, using Brand’s shield we managed to pull the monies and some strange items out. There was about one hundred and forty platinum pieces worth of coinage – largely in copper and silver (at least the barbarians were useful it carrying that out.) There was also a poncy sceptre, which was obviously either magical or ceremonial, a vase, and a broken black stone figurine.

A quick search determined that there was nothing else here, so we left. Heulwyn surprisingly, stole a cart so that all of the scrolls and money could be transported. (He insists that it is not steeling as he intends to give it back, but that is mere semantics and we all know it.) Sadly they will not entrust the scrolls to me, which leaves me with a dilemma. Brand takes his to the Bunker, as do I, Duncan takes his to the watch, Heuwlyn takes his home. 

Almost as soon as I can, I leave them and head back downstairs into the under city, I make my report – handing over the scrolls detailing the involvement of the church of Zebuxoruk. I collect my money (secreting my commission upon me) and head back, complete with two thieves to steal Brand’s scrolls at least. They have told me that they will try and get the scrolls that the others foolishly took. I am asked to come back tomorrow for another task.

I make it back, and almost fall asleep when the noise of alarm breaks the relative quiet of the Bunker. The first greys of dawn are coloring the sky, and yet I have not slept. It seems that the thieves I managed to get into the bunker were not as good as they thought. While they have made away with the scrolls, they have caused a ruckus and killed a guard. In my sleep-deprived state, I am forced to extemporize.

I seem to have largely convinced them, but I don’t think it has entirely worked. Something is obviously niggling at the guild master. This is not good. What is more I know have an appointment with the steel warriors at the same time I have an appointment below ground. I chose to keep the appointment with the Steel Warriors. (They were already annoyed with me, so I did not wish to antagonize them further.) The general gist of the conversation is that I am being watched. This makes things more difficult. As such I wander around above ground, selling off the items we had obtained, checking for the observers. I went into the mages guild with Brand. He annoyed them more than I did, which was interesting. While he was distracted arguing with the mages, I lost him, and headed down into the city below.

They too were annoyed with me now – which was understandable but vexing. Even so, they offered me more money. It seems they wanted me to go to Befallen, and retrieve a book for which they would give me five hundred gold pieces. Now, I know Huewlyn wants to go there, and I know that the Steel Warriors want someone to go there, so this could be interesting.

While I am in the underground market, I decide to buy some items. I need to improve my intelligence. I am sure that is what is hampering my spell casting skills. If I could grasp the concepts involved then I could cast the spells. I feel so close; the power seems to be itching under my skin, just waiting for release. The spell book I have taken from the necromancer confirms my suspicions.  The words almost have a meaning, it is so close. I can almost taste it.

Fortunately when the ring is identified, it transpires that it already boosts my intelligence a little. It is not enough however. The necromancers know not what any of the other items are, or what they do. So, I sell them on. After much haggling I manage to get a bone mask. It is an ugly thing but it does increase my intelligence. I feel more powerful, yet it is still not enough however. I need more money.

Concerned about my lack of money, but more pressingly tired and hungry, I return to my quarters to kept some sleep.

Day 94

It seems I was too tired to even dream. I slept for the better part of 12 hours. After a while I headed to the training ground, and learnt some interesting tricks with my axe. At lunch, I started hearing rumors about a hijacked shipment of masterwork weapons. At the moment there is nothing more than scuttlebutt and idle speculation however.

Day 95

Sadly the dreamless sleep has proved to be an aberration. I stomp off to my training in a foul mood, and do not seem to be able to grasp what the teacher is telling me for the earlier part of the morning. The afternoon however goes much more smoothly. I think it would be unwise for me to go straight to the Steel Warriors and tell them that I seek out befallen, if I could convince them that someone else was looking to go there and wanted me to help, then perhaps that would work. Perhaps Huewlyn could have his uses here. I need however to find a way to get him to ask, so in the evening I sought out Duncan.

Once again he is as drunk as a skunk, which I suppose fitting for a Beast Lord. It seems that I am not the only one to notice, as other transients have taken to referring to him as drunken Duncan as well. I am finally directed to what passed as a tavern in the gypsy camp. He is apparently romancing a lass that lives or works there. When I manage to speak to him, said lass was perched on his lap and giggling. He offers me a pint of wine, and fails to notice the problem with this. As a result our conversation does not go well. He can not understand what I am asking him, and keeps trying to get me to down the pint of wine. I leave, not sure what, if anything, I have accomplished.

Day 97

The rumors have turned into something concrete. A caravan has indeed been attacked and there is a reward of one thousand gold pieces and a masterwork weapon for anyone who can bring them back. It is Brand that is pushing us to take this job. I defer to him, hoping to bring up my job as we are on the road.

Day 100

Three days pass without too much trouble. There are the usual hassles of the road of course, the ox’s digestive system is as impressive as ever, and I  remark that I am sure that wandering predators can smell us for miles.

It seems that my words were precognitive – Brand walks past a large rock and is jumped by a mangy lion. It seems to take a huge chunk out of his side. However it is soon overwhelmed by our sheer numbers. Duncan attempts to skin it, while Brand asks how much of it we can eat. It doesn’t seem incredibly well skinned, but it is a competent enough job.

That night as we camp, I am roused from one of my rare pleasant dreams, and confronted with two zombies stalking the camp. The combat is brief, and we soon re-kill them. Huewlyn insists on burying them with the full rites. The words of the prayer send a shiver down my spine and raise my hackles and I leave the camp, making a suggestion that I was searching for any other zombies. I didn’t find any, and fortunately managed to return to camp after he had finished burying them.

Day 101

We moved on and around lunchtime we came across what looked like a humanoid figure crouching over two bodies. Duncan and I charged. When we arrived and saw that it was a werewolf, perhaps we should not have been so foolhardy.

We battled it bravely however, and it finally fell. Not however before it slashed at me driving its claws through my armor. My blood burnt and I felt weak and light headed for a second. I almost threw up. It passed however and as I was recovering my wits, Duncan identified the bodies on the floor as those of the Freeport militia.

That night my dreams seemed more vivid that ever. I dreamed of a strange figure, that I finally recognized as my god. I felt strange, as if I was being pulled down into the earth. And he seemed to be looking down at me and smiling. Odd. When I was woken for my watch I saw that the ground beneath me had moved, and that I was being pulled down. I wonder what it meant.

Day 102

My sleep after my watch was undisturbed and I did not dream. Interesting. The scars upon my body were still visible in the morning, and I got a very strange look from Huewlyn. He quickly looked away, but he seemed somehow stranger than usual.

In late evening we came to a guard post, and told them of the fate of their comrades. They were most concerned and made us promise to tell the militia to send a new change of watch. We stayed there over night and then headed on, promising to do so. We might even keep the promises. Possibly.

Day 103

We arrived in Near field. The blasted cleric intends to stay here for a few days. There are no real churches, but the Steel warriors here are helpful given that we are undertaking a quest for them. It seems that some orcs have been seen near plague town. Now there is a place that should be visited.

Day 106

We moved on. I glad to be leaving near field. It seems too sanctimious for my liking.

Day 109

We are now a day away from plague town. As we camped overnight, a group of orc scouts snuck in and attacked us. I felled one with a harm touch, and we quickly dispatched the rest, but that is not the most important thing Brand had clearly been sleeping on watch. Again. My berating of him was defused by the cleric agreeing to double up with him on all future watches. Maybe if he falls asleep, something can kill the cleric for me. One can only hope.

Still, at least we know we’re in the right area, as all of the little buggers had masterwork weapons on them. So we’ve got four back. I wonder how many there were in total?

We chuck the weapons and the chain mail they were wearing on the cart and I go back to sleep.

Day 110.

Heading toward plague town we spot a small village in the near distance. Upon closer examination it is quickly clear that this is not a village, but an orc camp. It seems that there are a lot of them. Well armed too. We will have to split them up and deal with them piecemeal. Unlike the others however I am not prepared to show any of the orcs any mercy. All of them must die, women and children. They have chosen to stand against me therefore they must die. This is a lesson we should have learnt from the goblins.

Of course if the orcs were to chose to side with me, things might be different. I can however not think of a way to give them that option, at least not with Brand Duncan and the cleric around.

Our plan, such as it is, is to draw the guards away with me acting as bait (This is something that I shall have to wean them off, it has become a favoured tactic of theirs. I am as able as Brand is to hide – in fact more so, since I am neither as wide or as tall.) Still, I do as they suggest and I fire at one of the guards on patrol, drawing his attention. Then I run. The guard runs straight into our little ambush and we drop him after a brief scuffle. However six more guards have also come out of the camp. We draw them off, and finally engage them. We drop all of these, and have retrieved another seven weapons, and five more sets of chain mail. We take them back to the cart, trying to work a more reasonable plan to deal with the others. Duncan obliterates our tracks, a job he seems to do reasonably well.

We retreat to rest, looking for a camp. The wilderness is Duncan’s preserve, so we let him choose the camp, which later turns out to be mistake. On our watch (As we have now paired up, two people per watch) he is attacked by what at first appears to be a boulder. It is in fact a beetle of some description. It’s first bite mightily stagers Duncan and I wonder if the creature has some sort of poison. Something to investigate once we dispatch the creature perhaps.  I charge in, and it is soon dead at my feet

Duncan tries for curing from the cleric, while I examine the creature. My rudimentary knowledge of beetles does not allow me to find any poison sack. I have to take my time however because the mandibles are coated in grime and other unsavory substances. After about half an hour, it is clear that the beetle has nothing of worth.

I drifted off to sleep as Brand and the cleric take watch. I did not even get a chance to dream however as, before long, the sound of combat was loud in my ears.  Arrows bounced off Brand’s armor and several orcs charged into the camp. Most made a line straight for Brand, though one stopped near me. I grabbed my great axe and cleaved that orc in twain, before moving to help Brand, dodging arrows from unseen archers.

Once engaged in close combat, the arrows stopped. It seemed that the orcs had some rudimentary intelligence. We dealt with the three surrounding Brand, and then I moved to help Duncan, while Brand moved to engage the hidden archers. We dropped Duncan’s orc, and then we were left with the orc on the cleric. Both me and Duncan danced around it rather than hitting it. (Perhaps in my case, because I would not be unhappy if the cleric died, though I am unsure what exactly was motivating Duncan’s wild and useless swings. Perhaps he too had finally seen the light. I could but hope.) We finally dropped the orc just after he had dropped the cleric. Could perhaps the cleric be dead? Duncan would not me to tend the clerics wound to find out and make sure, instead binding the wounds himself.

Duncan turned and spotted one of the other archers and charged off. Duncan dropped that orc, and then returned to tend to the cleric, muttering something about fish. At least that is what it sounded like – something along the lines of bleeding orc prawns. However by now I am resolved I will never understand what he says or means on most occasions. He returned, and tended the wounds of the cleric. We had most pieces of the armor and many more of the weapons, we could afford for the cleric to die now. I can only hope.

Day 111

The cleric survived. This is most vexing. What is more, when he wakes up he almost immediately starts moralizing. He insists that if we do attack the camp, we let the orc females and cubs escape.  Such a thing is bizarre. You do not leave enemies alive behind you, and women are as capable of wielding a weapon as any man. He does not see my point however and the stages what he refers to as a sit down protest, until I swear upon the name of my god that I will not harm innocents.

After a bit of verbal semantic sparring, we manage to hit upon a compromise. I finally say something that seems to satisfy him, which leaves me with the ability to do exactly what I want without breaking my promise. My estimation of his intelligence as very low seems to be more than accurate.

We had back slowly to the orc camp. Unsurprisingly the orcs had made some fortifications. We spot two orcs hiding, and Duncan hits upon a plan to sneak up on the orcs.

Sadly he is spotted, and the orcs attack him. We charge in, and I immediately take on the spell-casting shaman, while Duncan is engaged with his bodyguard. Brand charges past us intent on engaging a further group of orcs that are blocking the path. We drop these orcs and the two runts with bows that have hidden in the bushes. Then with Brands three dead, we move upon the camp.

Unsurprisingly, everyone else had fled. We snuck into the village, Brand in front. He sprung the traps that had been left behind for us. He almost falls into a pit and Duncan decides to take the lead instead, reasoning that he can do a better job at finding the traps. He promptly walloped by a simple trip wire trap.

That however does seem to be the last of the traps and we get to the main tent without any trouble, and see the remaining pieces of armor and weapons. It is clearly a trap, so we attempt to pull the table out without going inside the tent.

The trap was still detonated. A huge enveloping fist of cold billowed out from the tent, chilling my blood and blasting the cleric backwards. (Sadly he survived)

However we now had all we came for. Both the cleric and myself were keen to move onto befallen, but Duncan and Brand wanted to return to Near field to leave the cart. The logical appeal of this position which one I had to concede.

Day 112

My dreams last night were different. I sensed a crumbling of a wall and I could feel power flooding through me. During the day I have snuck a few glances at the spell book and understood some of the words. Almost as if I had the power to cast the spells. My excitement was palpable. I almost spent the rest of the day trying to focus the power, but I restrained myself for now. Best to wait until I had some time to myself.

That night the camp was once against attacked by orc runts – I did discover that Duncan was in fact saying pawns rather than prawns, but no matter. These orcs fell easily when they fought us, either way and I prefer the name runts.

Come morning we were roused from our sleep again by cries of alarm. A wolf was stalking the camp. Before I was even fully awake, Duncan was yelling and cursing (My sleepy brain translated his words as do not go to the toilet, but I think he was trying to prevent anyone shooting the wolf.) He was trying to position himself between us and the beast. What made the whole encounter even more confusing was the fact that the wolf simply faded away as Duncan shouted at us. It seems that it was his warder. I wonder why it did not stay?

Day 114

We’re back in Nearfield. We take the cart to the steel warriors compound and get a receipt. The cleric announces that he needs to head to his temple, so we head to the inn for lunch, where we receive a message from the cleric that he will be a few days. Brand goes to the bar, and then comes back saying we have to pay him a silver piece a day for a room. Which confuses me, why would I need to pay him. Quite clearly he was given a message at the bar and he got in confused by the time he got back to the table. It would not be the first time. I head to the bar to pay and find out that Brand is in fact being employed for his bouncing skills here, and this qualifies us for free room and lodge. He was trying to scam us. It seems he has a lot to learn.

Day 115.

I feel the power surging through me. I can say the words. (Well, almost, the pronunciation is, I will agree, not perfect, but it’s almost right) yet something is missing. I am getting closer, than much I can say perfectly truthfully.

Day 116.

I tried again. As I spoke the words out loud my shadow lengthened and the darkness flowed through me. And then stopped. I threw the book at the wall in frustration.

Day 118.

Two more days of fruitless book reading, and I am almost ready to slaughter this entire town. What is keeping the bloody cleric?

At evening meal we find out. It seems that now he too wishes to go back to Freeport. None of them will listen to me, and I am not willing to go to befallen on my own, so I am left with no choice.

Day 122

The journey back has been uneventful. Even the ox’s flatulence seems to have eased. About the only thing of note was the reappearance of the wolf this morning. Duncan is the happiest I have ever seen him.

Day 123

Back in Freeport, we unload the weapons, and receive our monies. It is not enough to buy many magical items, but I do manage to invest in a magical backpack which reduces the weight of stuff inside it.

I am then called to the guild offices. A strange woman is there, whispering orders to the guild master. They seem more pleased with me than last time. They have someone there to train me in the arts of Spell craft.

Day 125

At last I can call forth the power that is my birthright!

Day 127

After a hard day of studies, it seems that relaxation is in order. Brand is competing in the gladiatorial games. His first round match is against another Barbarian named  Vagner. I wonder if this is the barbarian that the cleric mentions regularly. It could be a common name in the north. I do not know. Never mind. I place a small side wager on Brand and sit back to enjoy the violence on display. 

Brand was up second. The first contest was won rather spectacularly by a brutish looking barbarian warrior called Tomas. His opponent, a dour dwarf, hardly got any hits in before being knocked unconscious.

Vagner was clearly the crowd favourite, a fact demonstrated by the odds, yet things did not go his way. Brand, despite taking some damage, dispatched him with alacrity.

I placed my winnings on Brand winning the next round, during the next contest. This was another dwarf and a human I think. It seemed to be over quickly. As I returned to my seat the final first round contest was underway. This was a half elf taking on the only woman in the contest. I could see that the half elf was not giving any quarter. The woman was battered and bruised; yet she was dealing as much damage as she was taking. I sat back, and watched, interested in her strange tactics. From my vantage point it was soon apparent she was not as injured as she made out. The half elf overreached himself and she ducked inside his defenses, pummeling him quickly. This was a most interesting fighting style, which netted her the win.

I sat back, watching the crowd, scanning for faces I recognized. While the competitors were being healed and resting for the second round matches, we were treated to a display of archery. I used the opportunity to seek out some of the food vendors. The usual suspects were present, and I limited myself to some warm bread and meat, avoiding some of the more suspicious looking foods on offer.

The second round contests were just as interesting as the first. Brand had drawn Tomas. And at first they seemed evenly matched. Yet Tomas could not keep hold of his weapon and fell to a battered and bruised Brand.

The woman, Jarha was up next. She was the last pure human involved. In fact, she was the only non barbarian left.  Her opponent was another barbarian Cailin. (Obviously it had been him who had dispatched the dwarf.)

Once again it seemed that she fought as much with her brains as with her club.  Tactics played a major part. She feinted left and right, trying to discern the weaknesses of the barbarian. Yet oddly, this barbarian seemed to have as much in the way of wits about him as she did. This contest eschewed the pattern of the previous contests, dominated as they had been by quick and brutal blows. This settled into thrust and parry, feint and counter. Jarha managed to get a few blows in but none of them were telling, and it was lucky blow from Cailin that ended the combat. She had ducked inside his defenses, and hit his ribs. His elbow lashed out, catching her on the temple, and while she was staggered, her caught her cleanly with the club. She fell, unconscious.

So, the finalists were Brand and Cailin. I placed my winnings on Brand, though I had some misgivings, after the impressive showing of Cailin in the last round.

Once again, I watched the crowd during the break, listening for rumours and the like. Nothing much could be discerned

The final was a return to the more blood and thunder contests of earlier. Cailin had thrown tactics out of the window, as had Brand. In the end the contest came down to Brand throwing his weapon away more. Cailin was the winner, though Brand has put up a good fight.

Maybe if they were all in the tavern I should buy Jarha a drink? She could be a useful bodyguard. 

Day 130

My training complete, I set about preparing to return to Befallen. However the cleric had other ideas. He sought us all out, and told us that we had a job. Apparently we were to deal with a group of roughnecks who had taken up in the docks.

I started searching for more information on the roughnecks. I went into the under city where they hired me to do the same job. It seems that the roughnecks were followers of Cazic-Thule and they were causing trouble. From what I knew there were a great number of them. I was to concentrate on the heavies. The heavies were a gnome, (Surprising, but possibly a necromancer of some description) an Erudite, and an Iskar. They knew that they were possibly based in or around the drowning pool, but other than that, they didn’t know that much.

Upon asking around in the market I discovered that the group in question had also turned over a tinkerer’s shop in the city above.

I arranged with Duncan to meet up with the others in the Grub and Grog. I can not go up on the hill after all. When he arrived the cleric was looking at me strangely, and then insisted that we spoke.

It seemed that he had finally worked out what I was. He was, however, willing to work with me. Idiot. But at least I can keep an eye on him here. He was intrigued by the information I had, though he believed that it was different and that the Iskar, Erudite and Gnome were the leaders. He had heard that the gnome alone had left Sergeant bash battered and bruised. Allegedly. I suspect that there would be more to it than that.

After lunch we headed off to the tinkerer’s shop. We already knew much of what he told us, though the involvement of a number of people who had been in the city for a while was something new. It was clearly some sort of protection racket. 

The gnome couldn’t tell much more than that, but his shop did have some interesting items to look at it the future.

That night we returned to the Grog and Grub, planning our next move and hopefully setting off to kill the buggers.

Brand was already there. He seems to take great pride in his job. He forgets who got it for him of course, but what do you expect.

Duncan walked in with a very long face. Even the wolf seemed sad. It seemed his friends were leaving. They were only heading about a day away, towards the desert of Ro, a place he called far field (Which is nearer than near field. That doesn’t appear to make any sense – unless of course they were measuring it from somewhere else.) He had just finished explaining this, when Heulwyn walked in. He threw me a worn out acolyte’s robe, saying that it will hide the nature of my servant.

I almost feel something kindly towards him of a second, but it passes. Then I notice that his face is an even bigger picture of misery and worry than Duncan’s and my mood improves greatly.

It’s a real shame if something is making his life a misery. He insists on telling us all about it of course, and it inspires barely controlled mirth in me. It seems someone is putting piranhas in their holy pools (Why didn’t I think of that!)

He seems to want me to go and help stop them. (Personally, I would prefer to give whoever is doing it a medal, but there you go.)

Brand is all for helping. He was coming up with all sorts of convoluted plans – many of which involved tying a cow to a rope. (Where he will find this cow from is another thing. I don’t think he had got that far. Or maybe he was relying on Duncan.)

However, after much discussion, they all seem equally prepared to do nothing. I however feel the need to kill something. I suggest going for the bounty on the rats. They don’t follow this suggestion.)

Our discussions become more strained. In fact they become so strained that the innkeeper comes over and offers us a job. He wants someone to collect some ingredients; this however is not a simple nighttime job. Instead it involves travel across the desert of Ro and harvesting fungus off a spider, or travelling across the ocean. We had to decline.

Then one of the tanners arrives, looking annoyed. He proceeds to drink himself almost into a stupor, however he did tell us that he had also run into the followers of Cazac-thule. He had refused to pay them the protection money they wanted and they had ambushed one of his good shipments, throwing it down a well. He was quite prepared to pay us a considerable sum of money (in the form of items) to retrieve it for him. The reward sounded good.

We headed off to the well; this could be easy money (Well, easy items anyway.) The furs themselves were indeed at the bottom of the well.

We quickly tied a rope to a lantern to see what was down there. Then we grapneled the pile of furs and started to haul them up. The bundle fell back into the water with a loud splash. At first we thought it was simply Brand letting go of the rope, but as we looked down we saw that there was a drowned one.

We drove it away (well, the cleric did) and started again. The rope however was slippery and fell back with an even louder splash. If they didn’t know we were there before, they didn’t now.

We hauled it up again, straining hard. There were now two drowned ones, holding onto the package. With their weight added, it must have come close to about a ton.

We did the only thing we could. We dropped the package on them.

They screamed in pain, and we hauled it up, the cleric be- spelling them again. They ran off, and we finally managed to haul up the bundle of furs. Now we simply had to transport it across the city.

Heulwyn was prepared to steal a cart. (Again! He seems to be falling into a life of crime) but somehow we talked him out of his larcenous tendencies, and agreed that two of us would stay to guard the bundle of furs, while the others headed back to the tavern.

Heulwyn wanted to travel with me back to the tavern, however I disabused him of that nation. (Thankfully!) Brand and I traveled back across the city, and brought the tanner (and his cart) back. He sobered up quickly when we revealed that we had fought off two drowned ones. He seemed most impressed, but did not offer to increase the reward.

We got the goods back to the shop, and we agreed to return later in the morning to pick up our reward. Then I slunk off to my quarters to sleep.

Day 131

The shop was well stocked, and had some surprising items. We were offered everything from boots to cloaks, well-made leather armor to backpacks (I saw another of the voluminous backpacks I had bought!)

Both the cleric and myself got ourselves a nice black cloak that boosted our vitality and spell power. Brand was also interested, but was finally persuaded that it would not work for him. He doesn’t have spells.

I am unsure what Brand or that matter Duncan finally settled on.

When we settled on our rewards, we asked some questions about the men who had demanded the protection money. He could not tell us much that we did not know, other than that one of the men was from Freeport.

I left the group, heading to the under city, hoping to find out who was hiring out the muscle. I found nothing of interest, though one of my other contacts pointed me in the direction of the great bazaar for goods and services (Apparently they were cheaper than Freeport, which is something to bare in mind.) I still need the money to purchase stuff with however!

I returned to the Grub and Grog for lunch. None of our researches had produced much in the way of result, and we were at a bit of a dead end. I needed a contact in the thieves’ guild. As I was pondering this, and drinking a pint of ale (I fancied a change from my usual wine, and the ale seemed to go with the food) Duncan elbowed me and spilt it.

Apologetic, as he rightly should be, he went to the bar, and returned with another pint before whispering that he had split my pint deliberately!

It seems that he had seen two of the men we were looking for at the bar. I prepared a spell, while Brand charged in.

They dropped with little more than two strokes. Brand cleaved the necromancer almost in half with his first hit, the muscle lasted a bit longer (And resisted my spell!) though he dropped shortly afterwards.

A quick search of the bodies revealed that they were indeed the people we were looking for. I pocketed the necromancer’s spellbook, and we discovered they each had a ring. The cleric and Duncan decided to take the muscle, who was still breathing, to the cleric’s church. I took the head of the necromancer, and the rings, downstairs.

The rings were dervish rings (They could in certain circumstances improve your dexterity.) They worried my contacts a little.

After a hurried and whispered conversation, they returned and offered me another job.

They seemed concerned that people from the south were involved, in this and asked that I travel into the desert to investigate what was going on. They paid me five gold pieces for the head of the necromancer. (It was worth as much as a rat head apparently.)

I left, armed with this information, and now having to persuade the others to travel to the south. I decided to inform the Steel warriors what I knew (As they were also interested in removing the followers of Cazac Thule.) They were very interested in the information, and agreed that I should travel to the south to investigate. They asked me to send Brand into see them.

I didn’t find Brand until later that evening, by which point the others had got some information from the muscle (apparently he was a rogue.) They were all prepared to travel south.  We provisioned ourselves accordingly. I could not afford the spyglass, but I did buy a compass from the gnome tinkerer. The money I made from selling the spare spell book I had did not last long!

Day 132

We travelled off.  The land between here and Fairfield (I shall blame calling it Farfield on Duncan’s accent) was still temperate so we could travel during the day. Once we hit the desert we would be travelling mostly by night. Duncan seemed very happy to see some of the travellers again.

They provided us with a meal, and pointed us in the direction of a bard who could provide information on the lay of the land ahead. Duncan offered to bring back on the lass a present. She wanted some crocodile teeth, which Duncan said would – to quote him exactly - be nae problem. Well, he knows the wilderness and animals, so we shall take his words.

The bard was a very good performer. His songs were uplifting, and I could not help but hum some of the tunes. He was also very helpful in providing information. He informed of us of what was ahead, and also hired us to provide him with some information. It seemed some of the giants of the desert may be meeting, and may be allying themselves with the orcs and the dervishes. (So now we have a tripartite arrangement between dervishes orcs and giants?) Freeport is certainly bedevilled with enemies.

The bard needed us to obtain hairs of the giants from their camp (which he identified on the map) The terrain from here would soon start changing into desert. We decided to stay near the sea, and travel by night which would help our navigation as well as enabling Duncan to fulfill his promise.

Day 133

We move on, and slowly the terrain gets drier, and it gets warmer. The scrub gets thinner and thinner and soon we are looking at little more than sand. We stop at midday, and camp through the afternoon, moving on again when it gets dark.

Even though we don’t have the benefits of elf eyesight, we can still see very clearly in the starlight here. The sand almost seems to somehow store the light, and the moon and stars provide at least some illumination. (I find it hard to believe that bipedal cats live there, but still.)

Just as the sky is starting to get light, Duncan stops us, and points to the nearby shore. It seems he has spotted a crocodile.

I ready myself, but Duncan charges in.

I attempt to spell the creature, which resists, before I decide to charge in myself. I deliberately decide to use my war hammer, seeking not to damage the skin. After all, the skin must be worth something. It is a long, drawn out fight. The creature takes several huge bites out of both Duncan and his wolf (Which seems oddly at ease in this environment.) We finally manage to subdue the creature. I skin it (Maybe I should take this up as a profession?) but most of the crocodiles teeth have been damaged in the fight. We will need to kill some more.

We camp here over day – I make a small fire, using it to cook the meat from the crocodile. (It’s quite tasty actually and provides a welcome change from hard trail rations.) I am just cleaning off the last of the skin, when Duncan yells out that something is coming over the dunes.

It is a desert madman.

I successfully zap him with a spell (At last! I was beginning to think there was something defective with my teaching the way my spells were having no effect!) and almost before Brand and the cleric can act, the guy is dead.  He has nothing on him, except of course, his hands, but they will be enough.

I chop them off, and used the fire to clean the flesh off. (The others leave me alone for a while as I do this. Strange, Duncan is fond of using the term southern softy, yet goes pale when I start to strip the flesh of our enemies.) He seems to have a week stomach when it comes to death.

Day 134

There is sand everywhere. It stretches as far as I can see, and is slowly and insidiously working it’s way into my clothes and boots. I will be glad when I can return to more temperate climes.

The heat rises off the desert in waves. I don’t think we would survive travelling during the day.

We wait for the sun to go down before moving off, and I pull out the bones I have cleaned to finally call forth a servant. It does not create a full sized skeleton however, which is odd. I throw the clothes I have gathered to it, and once it is dressed we are ready to move on.

The sheer monotony of the barren landscape soon becomes even more boring. I can see why this place would soon drive people mad.

We camp up for the day, and I am almost asleep when I here a shout from Brand. It seems a huge spider is crawling towards the camp. We kill it, and then I remember that this is one of the creatures that the innkeeper wanted fungus from. We harvest the fungus. More money for the journey can’t be bad.

Day 135

While travelling at night, we are ambushed. More dervishes. We deal with them and get a haul of rings.

Duncan thinks they may be scouts, but he can find no further tracks. It is that they were simply bandits. They do not have much in the way of money or equipment, other than the rings. Never mind.

We travel on, and as the sun starts to bake the already parched land once more, we find a nice sheltered and flat spot to camp.

Once again we camped to avoid the head of the midday sun. As usual me and Duncan took first watch. Duncan had found a perfect spot, flat and sheltered and well out of the main sun, but something niggled at me. I don’t know what it was, but something was wrong. Out of place.

I kept my eyes peeled, waiting for an attack, waiting for some hideous beast to pounce, the creature to burst out from the sand beneath us.

But nothing of the sort happened. . . .

Yet for some reason it still felt wrong.

I walked back and forth, looked everywhere I could think of, but it all seemed fine. Even the skeleton couldn’t detect anything, so what was wrong? Duncan did not share my unease, and when I shared my concerns with him, he said “Dinnae be so soft. Besides if there are any wee beasties out there, your caterwauling will scare them off.” 

I stomped off after that, fully intending to ignore the insult, and go to sleep.

As I walked towards the tent, intending to rouse Brand, my feeling of unease increased. I stopped, looked around, puzzled and that saved me from grave damage. As I looked around, there was a whoosh noise, and the sand flowed around me, almost pulling me off my feet.

Suddenly there was a hole. It all clicked into place. What I had seen was that the land was too flat, too regular. We were camping on top of a building.

I yelled for Duncan, and soon we were all craning out necks looking down into the hole. We tied a rope to a lantern and lowered it down into a chamber. Holding the roof up were four large statues, each with a human body and the head of a jackal or dog.

At first I though we had found a Gnoll temple of some description Yet Duncan was sure this was not the case. He pointed to some anatomical differences, some minor, some major (like the lack of fur on the bodies.)

Slowly we lowered ourselves into the chamber to investigate the wolf and the skeleton staying on guard, watching to ensure that nothing could sneak up on us.

The chamber was large but barren. Apart from the statues, the only distinguishing features were the doors. Well, more accurately, inset clay seals rather than doors. They lay opposite each other, one in the north wall, one in the south. (The compass has come in useful for something after all!) Well, they were the only intact objects. Something had been on the stone which had fallen, but it had been crushed.

We stood back, letting Brand smash the seals. Brand took several mighty swings before finally smashing the seal on the south, it toppled backwards, and with a rush of rank air, we were besieged by skeletons.

They swarmed from the room, and Heulwyn turned them (Giving me a headache in the process. I swear the little fool has no idea how painful that is for me. Then again, I wouldn’t put it past him to keep using it if he did know! They are all the same – peace and love – repent and die. Hypocritical sods.) With them turned and our blunt weapons, we made quick progress in dispatching them.

Disappointedly there was nothing in this room. They only things of value were the strange necklaces that all the skeletons had. The room seemed to be acolyte’s quarters, and the skeletons had been alive when they were walled in.

We headed and turned towards the other door. This one Brand dealt with slightly quicker. This room was also bare but for a stone sarcophagus.

We pried the lid off, and were not surprised to find a mummy all wrapped up inside. It was laid out with a sword stretched across its chest.

The sword was clearly magical. I saw it with newly awoken eyes, and it virtually gleamed.

It was too tempting and I quickly grabbed the sword, fully expecting the mummy to come to life there and then. It didn’t so much as twitch.

We returned the lid to the top of the sarcophagus and then climbed back up the rope. It was late afternoon, but still too hot to move on. Besides, I was knackered, as was Duncan. I wearily entered the tent, and clutching the sword was soon asleep.

It was a sleep that did not last long. My dream was full of bandages figures and I was woken with a cry of “They’re moving!” from Brand. I was on my feet in seconds, the newly found sword in my hand. As I held it I could feel vitality and agility flowing through me. It was indeed a powerful weapon.

I dashed to the hole. The mummy was moving. I should have expected as much. We should have burnt it in the tomb. What was far more worrying was that the skeletons had reformed.

I spelled one, sucking his strength. Yet it did not deter them. They formed an undead ladder, and the mummy attempted to jump the hole. It did not succeed.

We got several hits in before the mummy finally pulled itself out of the hole and stood before us and we were able to pummel it, and I could see that the sword did more damage and moved quicker and more accurately in my hands.

The mummy soon fell. Duncan went through the remains, claiming that some of the bandages could be used for healing. He managed to grab 2 scabby and tattered bandages. I have no idea what they can do, and I think someone must have been filling his head with rubbish.

By now it was late in the day and cool enough to move on. We carried on across the desert.

Day 136

Sand, sand and more sand. The view is so depressing

At least however this trek has not been an entire loss. The sword is quite interesting and powerful. It’s fast, light and increases my power. I have been practising with it on watch, and it is well worth the trip on it’s own.

Day 137

My dreams are still full of shuffling bandaged figures. As we walk the desert I hear the Mummy’s voice in my head. It seems he doesn’t want to give the sword up without a fight. Well, maybe he should come and try and get it back.

Day 138

As the sun crept over the dunes we could see a village in the near distance. This is the Barbarian village I was warned about.

They seem as peculiar a bunch as Duncan and Brand. The minute we walk into the village, we are accosted by the villagers, all of them hoping to get the life stories of Brand and Duncan. I slink off, looking for the inn and a proper

 The inn is simple and the bed is better than sand, but then any bed would be. I clean up in the bath they provide amazed at the amount of sand that has got everywhere in my equipment. I swear that my boots had more sand in them than was possible.

Then I fall wearily into bed, the sound of impenetrable accents drifting though my mind. Brand is talking to people, but I can not understand what they are saying. I am however too exhausted to care.

I wake up later that day, completely lost as to what day it is. My body insists that it should be morning yet it is evening.

I stagger into the main room of the inn and sit for a meal, unsure if it counts as breakfast or dinner.

As I look around my eye is drawn to bipedal frogs that are sat opposite. I study them surreptitiously, wondering how such an obviously amphibious race could exist in the desert. I wonder how I survived in the desert, and these creatures are clearly less suited for the environment than me! My quick glance reveals that they are clearly however a primitive race. To prove it one of them has a holy symbol of Marr.

As Duncan and the others join me for food, one of the creatures – they are apparently froglocks, wanders past. Its throat is clearly not designed for the common tongue, and he has been taught to speak by the barbarians of this village. The result is an almost unintelligible pidgin tongue.

I translate enough to work out that there is in fact a city of these creatures, and that they are only here for a beer festival.

I put the conversation out of my mind as soon as the creature’s blue back is turned on me.

Brand informs us that the innkeeper's son is missing, and that we should look for him. Maybe I should have paid more attention earlier!

I am not overly concerned, but Duncan wants to have a word, to see what we can do to help.

As he tries to find some more information, one of the village warriors drags in a dervish corpse. The mystery of the boy is solved. The Dervishes have him. Their camp lies to the south, and Duncan quickly agrees to search for the boy as it is on our way.

He suggests leaving right away, yet when we open the door a sandstorm is blowing from the desert. The inhabitants of the inn are not worried. They think it might be a mummy, but it will be turned away at the gates. All the previous ones have been.

Of course this Mummy was more determined!

It comes up though the inn’s floor, intent on trying to steal my sword. We destroy it. Again. We place the remains in several bottles, and float some of them out to sea. We take the others with us as we head off into the desert.

Day 139

We camp for a quick rest as Duncan searches for more tracks. The sand storm the mummy caused did not totally obliterate them, and we were able to make some quick progress in tracking the dervish back to his camp.

We had not gone far into the desert when I heard the Mummy’s voice in my head again. I look down and see that the bottle around my neck is totally empty. This is not good!

I will have to consult a necromancer about this. I am not giving the creature my sword.

Distracted as I am by these thoughts I was almost unprepared when arrows started whizzing into the party. Duncan charges off towards the archers, and we soon deal with two more dervish scouts, hidden by some cloaks. We can find no trace of any others, so Duncan keeps tracking them further into the desert.

I am still jumpy as it comes up to morning. I have heard no more from the mummy, but I am still uneasy. Several times Duncan’s wolf – he has named it now – Gwen  something or other (I thought the wolf was male, but still) stops and sniffs the air.

I don’t know if it was that, or my general unease that caused me to turn, but turn I did.

Sneaking up on the camp were two huge desert Orcs, of a type I had never seen before. They stood almost as tall as me, and they were armed with huge great swords.

They were tough and they took a great deal of punishment before dropping.

They had little of value on their corpses, but Duncan was insistent that there were Orc legionaries and some of their armor was valuable – in the same way that goblin war beads. He was maddeningly unspecific about their worth however.

If the rest of the desert held creatures as tough as this, I can not wait until I am back in the city.

Day 140

More sand as far as the eye can see. We traipse on, moving slowly across the desert. This place is becoming more depressing by the day. I am resorting to singing to relieve the monotony, and the others do not take well to this. The only happening of any note is the appearance of a dry bone skeleton that is run off by Heulwyn.

Day 141

At first I think the heat has finally got to Duncan. As we are about to break camp that night he turns and starts talking to mid air. Then a book appeared in mid air, and I could hear the voice of something from I presumed the book. Maybe the dessert has started to affect him.

Duncan called it a Shadowed one. It seems to be some sort of powerful magic user, and started giving us cryptic warnings. Then it decided to prove it’s magic and announced our names, professions and gods to the world.

Heulwyn didn’t react with the expected fury, but took it all in his stride, which was worrying.

It was to late to attack the creature to keep it quiet now, the damage was done (and the others did not look like they would join in to deal with it anyway, so I would have been on my own. Against a powerful magician I could barely see, the odds were not in my favor.) The creature disappeared finally, laughing at us. 

As the first light of morning started to appear across the horizon, we finally hit a change of scenery the sand gave way to rocks and we could see ahead of us a dervish camp. A small group of tents clustered around a rocky outcropping (which appeared to contain a cave of some sort.)

So what did we do now?

We needed to find out how many Dervishes were in the camp before we could do too much else, so me and Duncan headed up the rock outcrops, hoping to find a suitable vantage point. I changed into my leather armor, and slowly we climbed up the rocky mountain.

We lay on our fronts, sweat trickling down our brows, watching the camp. A few people moved around, dealing with the usual daily routines, until midmorning when there was muffled commotion. Slowly, hovering in mid air, seemingly undisturbed by any leaving creature, a spell book was moving towards the camp. It seemed our friend the shadowed one was dealing with these dervishes. As we watched, the camp started to move and what was obviously the leader came out to meet the shadowed one. We could not hear the conversation up here, but the shadowed one handed over a bag, and something was given over in return. The spell book turned and left, and the leader headed back into his tent.

It was at that moment the hairs on my neck prickled. Something was creeping up on us. I turned slowly, preparing an arrow. A dervish had spotted us. I let loose the arrow, which hit a week spot in his armour. He screeched in agony. Duncan charged off, moving nimbly across the loose rocks at the top the slope. I looked around, searching for more. I spotted another, moving in the distance, and let loose an arrow at him. Sadly, this was not such a good shot, and it only winged him, Duncan spotted him as soon as he had felled the other and charged after him. The dervish got away however, and the camp below us was roused.

It soon descended into complete chaos. Here we were, both lightly armored, surrounded by dervishes. We managed to fight them, our companions, now alerted to our plight charged towards us. We charged towards them, away from the dervishes. Duncan suddenly sped up, zooming past me, leaving me in the vanguard to be shot in the back. I dodged and weaved, but still got a few arrows in the back.

We met up with the others and I pulled my armor on, before moving back into the camp. The Dervishes, were ready, using bows and arrows, to try and kill us. We managed to defeat the remaining ones however.

A search of the camp revealed the boy we were sent to rescue. He was trussed to a tent pole in the centre of the leader’s tent. The leader also had a thousand platinum pieces, buried underneath the tent. The day had not been a complete loss. With this money and the rings that all the bodies had on them (The leader had a further bag of twenty rings, which was what he had taken from the shadowed one) we stood to make some decent money off this little venture. I felt almost cheerful.

A search of the temple revealed nothing. It was an old temple of some sort that had now been co-opted into a place of worship for Cazic Thule.

We had just finished searching it when the Shadowed one reappeared. He was seemingly pleased with what we had done. After some more pleasantries, he turned and left.

We prepared to do the same. We were now near the giant’s camp after all, until the bloody cleric really spoiled the day, by pointing out that the mummy would probably be around tomorrow.

Day 142

The day started badly. During the night someone had absconded with the rings. If that were not bad enough, we had to prepare for the mummy to arrive. We prepared fire arrows, ready to pepper the creature with when it got here.

Late in the night, it finally turned up, and we let loose the arrows. Brand was the one to finally kill it, cleaving it in twain with a mighty blow. However, once again it vanished. Duncan got no wrappings again.

Day 143

Back to sand. This was depressing again. As we were on watch something caused the hairs on the back of my neck to prickle. I heard a sound. It was like distant thunder. For the second the problem with that did not register with me. Then, it did. Thunder? In the desert? I looked around, trying to locate the cause of this sound. Then Duncan spotted it. He seemed to go pale and mentioned that we should get under cover. We pulled the Dervishes cloaks over us and looked up as a giant stepped over us. It thudded off into the distance. Duncan pulled over a hair, huge and about as thick as my arm. Brand tried to chop it in half, but it mended. If this indicated the amount of regeneration they had, and they were that tall. . . .

This was rather worrying.

Day 144

I hate this place. I was musing to myself that the desert was no place for me (again) when Duncan pointed out two people walking through the sand nearby. At first, I thought it was one of those, what were they called, mirages, but then Duncan stood a little away from the camp and hailed them. They responded. No mirage does that.

When they got closer I could see that they were Freeport militia. What were those bastards doing here? Probably up to no good I would expect.

After a while they left us heading south. We then went to sleep and strangely Duncan’s sleep was more troubled than mine, which is most unusual. He said that he was called home and that he had to go immediately. Well if he wishes to go, that is his affair but I have a job to finish first. And finish it I will.

Day 145

We make the camp, and find that someone (Three guesses who) has warned off the giants, orcs and dervishes. To prove my suspicions we do indeed find the tracks of two men heading from our direction. They left with the dervishes.

We also find a crude map sketched in the sand. Their plan is simple. The Giants walk up to the gates and the militia let them in. Things do not look good for Freeport.

Day 146

The bard (who is apparently not a bard, according to the talking book) turned up in the middle of the desert. He took the hairs off us before handing us items. (Duncan got a strange blade; I think he called it a black bladed ulak. Brand got a huge vivid green axe, and the bloody cleric a strange totem of a hand with an eye in it.) I got a white silk shield. He said that each item had great power, but a downside as well, which we have to find out ourselves.

Then he gestured in the direction of another strange mirage. It appears to be Freeport. I am quite prepared to ignore it, like I have the rest of them, but the others rush towards it, leaving me with no choice but to follow suit.  I step towards it and find myself back in Freeport.

Duncan and the others head off to find a gnome while I head off to make my report. I though that Brand might report too, but he disappoints me (again) by choosing to leave immediately with the others.

I head off into the under city to report what I have found. Those in the under city are concerned about what I tell them, particularly the involvement of the militia. They do not know what to do, if they should support them or not. They instruct me to keep quiet (which is a nuisance, as someone would need to tell the steel warriors if my plans are to work.) and after a while they give me a message to deliver to a dark elf at the pyramid in the desert. So it is back to the desert for me.

To try and see if it could salvage anything from the day, I head off to the necromancers guild, to see if they could identify the items I have, and to see if they could tell me what to do about the mummy.

The good news is that the mummy could not follow me out of the desert. (which is not the best of news given that I have to go back into the dessert) but it can be permanently killed.

It can only be permanently killed however in it’s tomb.

They tell me next to nothing about the shield, other than what I know. It makes me faster and hardier. There is some weakness in there though (which they can not tell me)

All they can tell me about the sword is that it was of goblin design.

I find somewhere to sleep. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.

Day 147

I have a plan now. It came to me in sleep. I buy some scrolls and write out a report of what we found in the style of Brand and Duncan. I am instructed to travel back to the desert in secret, and what could be a better disguise of my true destination, than to head via near field.

I write the scrolls out in the morning, and then disguise myself. I toy with the idea of handing the scroll into the militia for a while. It would be character for Duncan to do so, after all he trusts the evil gits, but decide against it. He is far more useful to me as a patsy for them. To hand the scroll to them would gain me nothing and would probably mean that Duncan would end up with a death mark. He is useful to me alive at the moment. I decide therefore to simply forge his scroll to the gypsies and indicate that he is not sure who in the militia that he can trust. It would be useful if I can bring the gypsies into this. The more evenly balanced the forces, the more damage they will do to each other.

In the afternoon I complete my disguise Aerberon Redbeard is no more, the beard is gone, and my hair is now black and much shorter. I head off, complete with forged scrolls.

Day 151

I arrive in Nearfield, and hand the scroll from “Brand” over. I think I convince them of my pedigree. While I am there, I try and get a bit more information about the pyramid where I will have to go. They don’t know much.

Day 157

I hand the scroll from “Duncan” over, and try and find out some more details about the pyramid. I assure myself that I am not simply delaying heading back into the desert.

Day 158

I put off going into the desert for a few more days. Instead, I skirt the desert, heading west towards the bazaar. This terrain is annoying and desolate, and despite myself I almost start missing the conversation (such as it is) from Brand and Duncan. Now, all I have to talk to are the dead, and they are not the most talkative of people.

It still feels strange to be without a beard, and I think that soon I will let it grow again (But not yet, I need to be clean shaven to maintain the disguise.) I wonder how people manage to scrape their skin in such an absurd manner every morning every day of their lives without it driving them mad. Maybe it is to disguise the fact that some of them are eunuchs and can not grow a proper beard. That is the only thing that would make sense to me.

There is not much life in this area and my rudimentary hunting skills entirely fail to produce any fresh meat to add to the diet.

On a few occasions I have spotted circling vultures (somewhat of a holy bird)  but there is little left other than picked clean bones of bandit victims and the occasional fired cart. The bandits in this area are very efficient.

On a few other occasions, I think I see a few solitary figures moving around in the distance, but they disappear before I can find out what they are.

Day 160

Hot, annoyed, and with a shaving rash that is killing me, I traipse on. Hopefully the bazaar will be worth the effort of this detour. I have heard that it is cheaper than Freeport, and holds all sorts of exotic and interesting goods. Of course, I have heard many things about this place, and like most things, much of it will not be true. Some of the rumors that surrounded free port and their eventual debunking upon my arrival should be more than enough to disabuse me of the more romantic and idiotic notions. You could easily find upwards of a thousand villagers who will swear that the city of Freeport is paved with gold. None of them have ever been there of course, but still they know that the city is paved with gold and everyone there is a rich merchant! (They clearly know little of life, as such a thing is impossible.) For someone to be on top, someone else must be underneath.

Much the same distortion will doubtless be true of the bazaar. However, as long as one of the many tales, that of the cheapness of the goods, holds true, I will be happy.

Day 163

Finally, I reach the Bazaar My first impression is the cool nature of the cave. It is a delicious and refreshing experience that is more than welcome after the warm tediousness of the desert outside.

The second feeling is sudden, mouth watering hunger, of a type I have not experienced before. Almost without thinking I buy and devour some strange meat products from one of the many hawkers walking past. His spot is obviously well chosen.

It has an interesting and pungent aroma that is more than matched by the delicious savory taste. I buy another two of the meat skewers and head deeper into the cavern.

All sorts of wares are on display but sadly even though many of the items are much cheaper than they would be in Freeport, they remain well beyond the range of my wealth (I had thought the platinum coins I had impressive, but now realize how meager it truly is. I must get more money. Even the little extras I had managed to pilfer from various sources do not add much to the small pot.)

I spend a while at the various stalls and taverns, both looking for items and fishing for information regarding the areas and surrounds. After some searching and much haggling, I find a willing purchaser for the necklaces looted from the Mummy’s tomb. Sadly it is a dwarven trader, and though I have been warned before of this race’s somewhat stubborn nature, he is the most reasonable there. It takes some effort, even with him, but I finally manage to convince him of the provenance of the necklaces. Even so, he remains remarkably intractable on other details. I am left with the feeling that getting the money for these things was far more effort than killing the skeletons in the first place!

I find a remarkable shop run by a gnome. It has all sorts of bizarre trinkets. (Indeed he placed a sign saying bazaar bizarre in scrawled gnomic font.) There are many items, many of which are ludicrously overpriced. I do buy from him a collapsible shovel, which may come in very useful.

I find little else of interest, despite much searching and the rumours I hear are not much use. There appears to be a dark elf wizard killing everything in sight on the northern roads, and some griffins have been attacking villages, but not much else of note.

I limit myself to purchasing a few sundry goods, some more rations and some rope, a couple of flasks of oil, and water skins and a telescope. All of that done, I get a few drinks, and some more of the strange (but tasty and satisfying food) and camp down for the night.

Day 164

Steeling myself I head back into the desert. I think the best thing for me to do now is try and confront the Mummy in its tomb. Deal with the problem once and for all. I haven’t heard the telltale cry of “SWORD” in my head for a few days, and hope that the last time it died, it got put back in its tomb until the next full moon. I have only been away for a few days, and yet I have seemingly forgotten how mind numbingly desolate this blasted desert is. The heat remains as oppressive as I remembered, even though I am now only wearing leather armor, as opposed to the metal I had before (the shield is offering me protection.)

The aim now is to get in and get out, kill the mummy and be done with it. Once again I see solitary figures in the distance, avoiding the main roads, keeping to hidden pathways, heading on a diagonal path towards the sea. I wonder if they are dervish scouts? I can not get a better look. Even with the telescope, they are too elusive to get a good view off.

Day 165

The question of who the figures are seems to be resolved. They are not, as I had feared, dervish scouts, rather they appear to be rangers. It seems the Steel Warriors did not trust me to find the information they sought. Well, maybe they did not trust Brand which would make some sort of sense. They are more than right to do so, given the fact he didn’t bother to tell them. I wonder if they now have the information? After all that effort I had to go to, I hope so.

Still knowing they have sent Rangers and others to comb the desert gives me another more than plausible excuse for any information they do pick up. Of course this idiot of a ranger won’t be reporting back. It is his own fault for assuming the wrong thing and presuming to attack me after seeing my pet. What is more the idiot had nothing on him. No monies, no goods (a few arrows which have been used to replenish my quivers, but nothing much) I leave his corpse for the vultures to pick clean. At least something does well out of the desert.

Day 166

It is at this point, I start to miss Duncan. Not for his sparkling conversation, or his presence, but for the fact he can navigate in this place. I hate it. The unrelenting changelessness of it all grates on my nerves in ways I can not begin to describe.

Day 167

The day starts badly, and gets worse. Well, shall we say the night starts badly, as it is too warm to walk by day. My skills in surviving in the desert are not as good as Duncan's and I think I managed to get myself lost, but I do eventually find the right way. It is the sea that helps, a landmark not even the most blind of creatures could miss.  I almost manage it however, my heat addled mind refusing to recognize it for a while, but it passes.

Day 168

The mummy’s tomb lies slightly ahead of me, now is the time to see if the gamble has paid off. Is the creature home? I carefully lower myself into the tomb. The sands are already beginning to reclaim the space here, and they crunch far too nosily under my feet as I head towards the sarcophagus.

It is open. The sarcophagus lid lies smashed upon the floor, heaved aside by a mighty shove from inside. I chance a look over the lid, prepared to strike down rapidly is needs be. The mummy is inside, but it does not move. I slowly let out the breath I was not aware I was holding, and quickly put my hastily perceived plan into action.

I emptied several flasks of oil over the mummy and drop in a burning brand. Let’s see the bastard shout “SWORD” now. I’m half tempted to chisel it’s mine somewhere in the tomb, but I think better of it.

I watch the fire burn, to see if it will rise again, and that night I sit alone in the desert, watching the tomb. It is a lonely vigil. At times I am worried that the brief column of smoke that the mummy’s body created will have attracted someone, but it does not appear so. 

Day 169

I sit and watch the tomb, checking back that the creature is indeed dead. I idly wonder if I can bury the tomb properly. There is nothing else in there. We have already picked it clean. I know that it will be buried in time, but that will not be soon enough.

Day 170

Dried rations are wearing on me. I consider  setting a trap to try and catch a crocodile, but decide against it. I think I can just about hold on until I reach the village of Barbarians. There should be some fresh and proper food there.

Day 172

Back to the village. I wonder if I can catch a boat to take me the rest of the way? At least here I can get some fresh meat and water. Dried rations can become very wearing. I dismiss my pet and head into the village, looking forward to a lumpy mattress and some fish stew. (That is not a sentiment that I would normally hold, I can assure you.)

Day 173

I eat, and sleep (in a bed!) and listen to the general gossip. Then I think of checking my map and discover that I have to go overland. This is less than impressive. I make up some story about following a group of adventurers (Namely ourselves) and get a bit more detail of the lay of the land ahead. They know little more than they did last time. I do get some information out of the boy when his relatives let him speak to anyone (They seem to be keeping him on a tight lease.)

I sleep and recover, washing as much sand as I can off my body (Before reflecting that this is a pointless task) and the following night I set out.

Day 176

Sand and more sand. There is nothing else here. This is a blasted wasteland. I miss company. Even Brand, sod it, even the bloody benighted cleric scum would be useful to have along. Someone or something to talk too, anything to talk too would be useful. After a few days of steady if unspectacular progress I have stalled.

Around midnight, I can see in the distance a largish group of Dervishes. They seem to be fighting something. I can not make out what exactly, but it’s big. Very big. I sit and watch via the telescope for a while, before deciding that they will be a while with whatever it is. Eventually I discover that they have killed it, but are now going to thoroughly strip the corpse. I find myself some cover off the path and wait.

Day 177

The following night the dervishes have moved off and I head on. Out of curiosity I stop at the battle site. Much of the battle has already been obliterated by the desert winds. It appears they were fighting a giant snake of some sort, but not much is left. The corpse has been skinned, the poison sacs have been removed, and much of the meat has gone, however some is still left. I gather some. The desert sun has already largely cooked it. It will not last much longer, but it does provide some welcome relief from the dried rations. I head off.

Day 180

I now know why the desert breeds madmen. This view is enough to drive you mad. I am unsure if I am heading in the right direction, in fact I am not sure I am even heading in any direction. The relentless monotony of the area destroys all illusion of progress. There are no landmarks, nothing to see, nothing to indicate that I have moved. The pressure is being to tell upon me, and it becomes a great effort to simply put one foot in front of the other. It has taken all of my energy to simply stagger on.

Day 181

I awake sweating. (Hardly a surprise in this place) but this is a cold fear sweat, driven by my dreams. It is wrong to call them nightmares I suppose; I should call them daymares, but that is a word that is not as evocative. This was a dream of burning, dying shrouded in fire.

Was this something to do with the mummy or is it simply something to do with the heat of this place? I don’t know.

Day 182

Sand, and more sand.

Day 184

I don’t even have the energy or the will to write much anymore

Day 190

I feel the ground tremble. I know it is a giant, and quickly manage to hide. I am glad I did, because I was wrong, it isn’t a giant. It’s two. They seem to be patrolling. They don’t spot me, fortunately, but I stay where I am for the rest of the night.

Day 191

Finally a change of scenery, and it refreshes my soul so much to see something as simple as rock. I camp there over the day before setting off again. The rock peak gives me a great view; in the distance I can see Orc and possibly dervish camps. Fortunately they are to the side of my route and not ahead.

Day 195

Sand and more sand. Sand everywhere.

Day 200

I can finally see something in the distance. I won’t get there today, but it is near. Finally. I camp, my sprits buoyed.

Day 201

Finally, I head in to deliver my message. It is not hard to find the dark elf. My message is passed on, but nothing is said. I end up having to camp over day. The next day a scroll is simply handed to me, and I am told to simply take it back. I head off. While I know that I am heading home, and that I shall soon be out of the desert, I am still not looking forward to the journey.

Day 211

The rock spire serves as a landmark.  However when I get there it is already in use. A small group of decaying skeletons attack me. None of them survive a single hit before the power that animates them is shorn from them. They do not even yield any useful bones. I throw them into a small cave, midway up the rock face. This however brings out something a little more challenging. A snake, about as thick as my arm slithers out and hisses at me. It takes two blows to decapitate the thing.

I skin it and make a banked fire, broiling the flesh. It tastes foul, but anything is better than yet another meal of dried nuts.

I use the rock peak to scout ahead. Again, the dervish and orc camps are to either side.  However up ahead I see some sort of commotion. It is not an orc or dervish camp, but it seems to be animals of some sort.

I wake up in the middle of the day to the sound of crunching from the cave below. I sneak down to see what it is, and among the pile of bones, I can see a mangy dog type creature chewing away. It doesn’t seem to notice me, but I stick an arrow in it just the same. I retrieve the arrow and order my pet to take the corpse and the bones away before returning to guard me. Hopefully any other scavengers will avoid me now. I idly wonder as I drift back to sleep if these skeletons have become part of the food chain. As the magic wears off, do they become prey for the living predators of the desert? Something must sustain them, and I doubt it is entirely travelers. Maybe it is the undead that exist and seem drawn here (odd for the desert named after a god of magic) or maybe they live off travelers. I don’t know. A discussion I can have with Duncan perhaps?

I go back to sleep. This time however my sleep is disturbed by another dream. This is not a night or day mare however, but a strange dream. I see a black gaunt horse heading towards me, it stops, and if such a thing is possible, it seems to smile. It then turns and waits for me to do something. I get the distinct impression that I should get on it’s back.

I wake then, knowing that something had happened, but not sure what.

Day 212

The animals had been feasting on another corpse of a giant snake. This one had not been decimated by human hands but by animals and they had done a far better job. A desert wolf, or something (a dog? A coyote? A jackal? who knows or cares what such things are called?) It had four legs and was furry anyway which will do for me. Whatever it was, it ran away from me as I approached. Whatever it was, it ran away from me as I approached. This corpse has long since gone, and there is nothing of use. The poison sacks are intact, but are now so dry as to be worthless, and the teeth and bones are chipped and useless.

Day 215

I spot a dervish camp in the distance, and avoid it.

Day 218

Still sand. Still bored. Still just about hanging on to my sanity.

Day 220

Another dream. The horse again, another figure with it this time, beckoning me forward. It seems right somehow. But what good would a horse do me here? It would not survive long in the desert. I also see another skeleton with the horse. It seems like a pet, but stronger, more powerful. I want to get back to the city and learn some new skills!

Day 228

A see another group of animals in the distance, someway off the path. Is this another corpse perhaps? The spyglass reveals a large concentration of animals and I am able to make out detail. This is not the corpse of a giant snake. This is the corpse of a giant. I wonder if it has any loot. When I get there however, I am disappointed. I should not have expected anything to be that easy!

The corpse is old, ancient even, almost mummified now, so much so that I wonder if I should set fire to it just to be sure! I see Orc and Dervish tracks here and quickly realize that anything useful that this corpse had would long since have been taken.

I also see some human corpses. Rangers perhaps? What few possessions I can find of theirs would indicate this to be the case. Hum, this is interesting. Again, however the corpses have been thoroughly looted. Even the hand bones have been removed, so not even any spell components remained. I cast around, my tracking skills nowhere near as good as Duncan’s but I can possibly identify up to 10 orc tracks. They seem to be the deeper set of the legionnaires we fought before, so that would be more than enough to kill any of these people. Some of the more dedicated scavengers return as I am there, and I decide not to press the issue, backing off myself and allowing them to return to their meager feast of tough and decaying giant flesh.

Day 230

The village beckons me. At last almost home. I book myself a room in the inn and have a long bath. A very long bath. I enjoy the bath, I enjoy the food, I enjoy the drink, and I enjoy the sound of human voices. By the end of the evening I feel much better. It is odd, I know, feeling better in the company of these people. Then someone mentions the date, and I realize something. I missed my birthday while I was in the desert. I drink in muted celebration.

Day 238

I have made it back to Freeport without any real problems. I hand the written response to the church. I get no acknowledgement of this other than the money. I simply get sent on my way. I go to an inn. I need a bath, a change of clothes and to wash the stupid dye out of my hair. I also want food. As soon as I am recovered and rested, I shall go and train.

Day 240

My training progresses apace. I can hit harder and faster now, and my mind seems more receptive to the complexities of spells. I seem to be able to focus the magic better.

Day 250

My training is complete. I have learnt new spells. I can call forth greater and more powerful undead to serve me and I can finally cast spells that transfer a significant amount of life back to me. However I can not master the spell that turns someone shadow against them. That spell just will not come. The shadows will not bend to my will. It is annoying in the extreme. I am told that perhaps with more book study I could perhaps learn it, and to come back again, once I have expanded my knowledge of how to craft and cast spells. I am also taught how to “call” a steed but I am advised not to do so in the city. I wonder if this was what my dreams foretold.

Day 251

I discover that Brand and the others are back and that the steel warriors are not happy with me. That is hardly unexpected is it? I go and see them, and spin them a yarn. I am careful to stick to the information that Brand or Duncan would know, so that if anyone else does complain about what is known I can point the finger of suspicion at them. I mention of course the involvement of the militia (scum.) I do care if the under city and the church of the dismal rage do ally themselves with them, they should all be hunted down until the last of them is disemboweled. May the gods curse them and visit plagues upon their houses. And if the gods will not, I shall eventually do so myself. (But not just yet.)

My tale seems to convince them. Indeed it seems to worry them a little. Brand seems not to have told them what he knew. What he is playing at? And where did the scroll go? He has not even told them of the scrawled map in the desert and their plan! What? I give them as much information as Brand should have done. I get a panicked look, and then a muffled instruction to leave, and that we (Meaning myself, Brand, Duncan and the cleric I presume) should head to the common lands and deal with a giant and a group of ogres hitting caravans.

I try and seek out Brand and Duncan, but they are getting pissed. In fact Brand is already pissed and slumbering as I find them in the inn. They tell me that they will not be ready for about a week. The cleric is learning new spells and they will go nowhere without him. It seems that the have also made friends with a paladin. Charming. Apparently he is one of those stupid looking frog things. He is probably swimming with the bloody holy tadpoles up there on the hill.

I get little more of sense out of them and they seem to want to remain drunk. As this is the case, I decide to go and get some more training off the steel warriors.

Day 252

I start my new training, in the art of leadership. It is an esoteric skill, designed to help you take command and move people around on the battlefield. My first foray is not the most successful, according to my tutor anyway. I manage to get almost everyone under my command killed (well, mock killed, they just lay there and pretend to be dead in a most unconvincing fashion) in the first exercise. I almost suggest that this is not a problem and that I can simply raise them as undead, but stop myself just in time. It would probably not go down well. My first lesson is therefore learnt. I need to keep people under my command alive.

There are a few others are also learning this skill. And some are better than others. A gruff dwarf, I think a ranger of some sort, seems to be one of the more successful. The afternoon’s lesson is spent with us arranging our squads against each other. The objective of the exercise is to take the opponents flag.  This time I manage to keep most of my commands alive. However I do not succeed in winning the objective. He captures my flag. It would not have happened if I had been able to fully utilize my skills. He is able to cast his spells without too many problems, however I am limited to brute force and intelligence.

Day 253

The second training session is book learning, learning the precepts of war and the wisdom of ancient generals, like the humans Vortigen and Constenyn or the elf general Arikor Aeldeath I find these great warriors little of the sort. They are too concerned with keeping their own troops alive rather than winning the battle. Perhaps they should read the word of dark elf generals, such as Alteyl Claddfaer (or however his name is spelt.) The day is spent discussing the works, and I sense that there is an expected set of answers, which I rapidly learn to anticipate.

Day 254

Boring day, but at least the temperature is normal and there is no sand.

Day 255

Not such a boring day today. Today we learnt about inspiring trust and how to make people want to do things for you. It is most interesting and very useful, I skill I will find much use for.

Day 256

Not much of interest happened today, though it does seem that Brand and Duncan have grown tried of getting pissed and wish to travel on. They will now have to wait for me.

Day 258

My training finished, I settle for a night of quiet and calm before we head out to fight the caravan raiding bandits. Of course, Brand starts arguing with me again.  He is more concerned about being paid and all that sort of guff. He doesn’t appear to have a good nature I can appeal too. We are settling into, what, round 13 or 14 of the same argument when there is a commotion outside. An elf, or possibly a half elf staggers in, gurgling his last breath. For a second we all stare at him and then Duncan charges off to find out who killed him. I follow, somewhat reluctantly, as Duncan charges outside. Within seconds he is haring off across the city, chasing something bouncing from roof to roof.

It leads us to an old house. It looks derelict, which is odd. I would have thought someone would have reclaimed the house before it got in such a state, this is a reasonable area of the city and the property here is quite valuable. The creature seems to have gone in through the roof. We however have no such method of easy access, and instead are limited to heading through the front door.

Inside it was as dirty and dank as you would have thought it would be. There were two doors. We headed to our right and discovered a wrecked sitting room of sorts. About the only things of interest were a large book and an even  larger chest, Duncan seemed unduly interested in the book. I snuck a look over his shoulder before he slammed it shut, and it was a necromantic tome. I wonder if my influence is affecting him.

The chest however was something else. Brand who is apparently our lock expert decided to have a look at it, I think he was looking for traps – but if so he needs to work on his method. Currently he seems to try and find traps by setting them off – He simply walked over to the chest, thumped it a couple of times, kicked it, and then loudly pronounced that it was free of traps. Subtle it wasn’t. Sadly, he lacked the courage of his convictions. He would not open the chest, instead trying to get me to do so. I was having none of it, and it was finally Duncan who decided that he should break the stalemate. He yanked the chest open, sending a cloud of dust and muck high in the air. When the dust had settled we could see inside – It was another mummy. Well, it was the skull of one, and several rags, but that was enough for me. I decided that we should burn it immediately. Duncan, surprisingly agreed with me, and started to move the chest into the fireplace. However the chest was too big. However, we decided to burn it anyway.

Duncan chucked a flask of oil in, and lit it. Sadly, the smoke did not head up the chimney, instead blowing back into the room. We were forced to evacuate it. We pulled back into the corridor, coughing and spluttering. By the time we had recovered, there seemed to be something wrong. And then I realized. The smell of the place was wrong. I could not smell burning. I opened the door we had just shut. The smoke had cleared and the fire had gone. We looked at each other. Duncan was brave enough to head back into the room and check the chest. The rags had burnt away, but the skull was intact.

I did not like the place, something felt very wrong. Nevertheless Duncan and the bloody cleric insisted we investigated this place now. I sighed, but stayed with them. (Why am I doing this?  I ask myself as we wander around the rooms of this decayed and decrepit house. There must be a reason.  It cannot possibly be because I am friends with these people. Duncan is tolerable, but the others, well, I will shed no tears if Brand were to die (unless of course his death imperils me, then I will have the bastard resurrected, so that I can kill him again) and as for the cleric I am waiting for the chance to tap dance on his grave. It must simply be that they are useful, and therefore I need to keep them sweet.

The rest of the place is as decrepit as the hallway. We go through a ruined kitchen and down a passageway to a study of sorts. The others hold their noses around here and look pale. They are worried about the smell of something. I am not even sure there is a smell, so I head into the room first. There is a cupboard in the corner, and I throw it open to reveal a maggot-infested corpse. I quickly determine that there is nothing of worth on it, and leave it where it has fallen. I head back to the corridor. Heulwyn is muttering something as I head back to the corridor. A look of comprehension crosses his face as I collapse with a searing pain in my gut. The muttered swearing does not inspire confidence. The next two words confirm things. He mutters rot grubs and orders Duncan and Brand to hold me as he cuts them out.

The next few minutes are not the most pleasant of my life, and I will not dwell on them. I think I screamed. (Duncan will doubtless claim that I did.) But then having a hot blade slice into your ribs is not pleasant. However they are soon all cut out. I complain and insist Brand goes in front for the next door. He does, and doesn’t get very far before he shouts bugs and slams the door shut.

Since we appear to have walked in a square, we headed back to the room with the mummy chest. Indeed, a door in that room opens into the same room. The Cleric steps forward and zaps them all with one spell however. (It is a spell that sends shivers down my spine, but it does the job.) The room was not worth the effort. All that is in there are several moth eaten portraits (literally) And a key. No lock, but a key. Well worth the effort then.

We head to the rest of the house, up the stairs. Half way up, Duncan says he can hear something, and he rushes into a room on the right of the landing. He claims to have seen a woman, and though he did appear to be talking to someone, when we arrive there is nothing but a long dead corpse. (Rigor has been and gone, even a necromancer would have had trouble holding a conversation with this sack of offal.)

We head into the other room. This bares the signs of ritual sacrifice. A single solitary candle stands in the centre of the room and casts gaudy shadows across the floor. I blow it out and head in. Brand heads through the door at the far end of the room, and immediately gets mobbed by three creatures. He drops back into the room, and they swarm and attack us. However we seem to be doing no damage to them. I am sure I hit, but my sword seems to bounce. I switch to one of the new spells I had learnt, draining their life energy.  Suddenly from behind us, Heulwyn shouts that the candle has relit itself. He blows it out and we hack the creatures to pieces.

Sadly, the candle is too closely tied to ritual magic to be of any use to anyone else. They have little in the way of possessions, but we do find a few useful items. A small backpack like the one I already own, and a small amount of coins, but that is it.

We head our separate ways, Duncan and the cleric heading up the hill to report the place as I head underground for a similar purpose. They are surprised that it appears to be a necromancer’s house, and are concerned that the place degraded overnight. They thank me for the information though.

When I meet the others back in the inn, I am given the book, as it might be of use to me.

I spend much of the rest of the night studying it. There are new spells here. I fail however to scribe the more powerful spell, yet the other I manage to scribe.

Day 259

We head out, at last. Around lunchtime I cast one the new spells I had learnt with my training, calling a more powerful skeletal pet. I wait until nightfall before invoking the rest of my training. When we camp, I pray, and I feel that the power is with me.

When my horse arrives, it is a strange beast. Carnivorous obviously, and it unnerves the cleric no end (He woke shivering as it walked into our camp.) Later on a skunk sneaks into our camp, and my stead simply bites it in half before it can do anything. No need to find food for it today.

Day 260

Both Duncan and the cleric harangue me as we walk on. Like I care. They seem to think that I should not have called forth my mount. I disagree; it will be very useful. Though the ache it inspires in my rump if I stay in the saddle is not the best argument for keeping the beast, particularly as we will still be limited by the lumbering speed of Brand. Never mind.

Day 262

The days are passing without much incident. There is not even a sign of bandit trouble!

Day 263

Around lunchtime, disaster strikes. Duncan spots a blob in the distance. It spots us, and moves to attack. The griffin, for that is what it is, seems to think my horse will make a tasty snack, and swoops into attack.

Brand’s defense is half hearted (He has never got on with my mount either) he snaps his bowstring as the creature appears. My shots simply bounce. Soon the griffin is taking bites out of my horse. I am reduced to trying to keep the mount alive (or at least with us on this plane, if not alive in the strictest sense of the word.) I am using my spells to draw life energy from the griffin itself and pour it into my stead.

It is clinging to life by a thread as Duncan hurls himself onto the griffin’s back.

The griffin, enraged, and with my stead firmly in its grasp, flies off. I manage to get one more spell off and heal a few of the more minor scratches and bruises before the griffin is out of range.  I am forced then to sprint after it.

Duncan drops the griffin finally, and I am joyous. My horse has survived the fight. However I had reckoned with out gravity. My horse falls, impacting nastily on a rock, and expires. It rots away in seconds.

I shall try not to blame Duncan for that. It was not his fault.

Day 264

My horse is dead, and Duncan keeps complaining about my pronunciation of stead. Peh. My temper is not improved, and all I seem to have successfully achieved since calling my horse is a sore backside! My mood is black. (I overhear the cleric muttering something about it being as black as my heart, but I ignore the provocation.)

Day 265

As we are heading off Duncan spots something. He says that there is something just off the track. At first I can not see it, but then I notice it too. It is a strange slightly odd mottling just besides the trail. I stare at it, and quickly realize that it is not unnatural as such, but it is a subtle twisting of nature. Druid or Ranger magic perhaps. We approach, and discover that it is the camp of a ranger, called Vuli Greenwhisper. He greets us, leaving my pet nonplussed. Obviously the magic masks him from undead. Duncan engages the elf in conversation. It seems that he is tracking some miscreants throughout the Common Lands, namely a dark elf  (A wizard) and troll (Warrior of some sort.) He also thinks that they were likely to be heading to the bazaar and then back to Neriak. He was waiting for them to return, something they have not done. (Maybe they are aware he was following them?) He was been waiting a few days, and decides to join with us. It is always useful to have another fighter around. During the conversation he also mentions that he has heard that the Giants and orcs are to the north. This is not the news I had hoped for. It is going to be impossible to persuade them to travel to the North to take them out now. Gah! This has not been my week!

The ranger travels with us for the rest of the day, bringing down a deer (which he does not partake off) for our evening meal.

Day 266

We awake and break our fast. It is only then that we notice that the ranger has left us during the night and headed off on his own. His sparkling conversation will not be missed, though perhaps his fighting skills may be. At least he did something useful by providing us with the deer though.

Day 269

We see plague town in the distance. The traveling has been uneventful, and little has happened. No one has come near us.

As we come to plague town we see movement nearby.  Duncan suggests we sneak forward to get a better look. Around the gates are gathered a group of people. They seem to be digging. My attempts to get a better look are thwarted as I miss sight the telescope, and so have to pass it to Duncan, and rely upon his description of the creatures that he can see. 

His description is faulty of course, and he only provides part of the information I need. I can not place what the creatures are. I need to have a look myself. We sneak closer, and I look again and now that I can see them with my own eyes, it drops into place. Ghouls. Now that is interesting.

Of course, the party once again messes things up, as Heulwyn stands up and tells them to go back from whence they came (Evidently, this was plague town, as that is where they go – to warn all and sundry that we are coming.) Oops. Skeletons attack us from the battlements, and in front of us through the gates we can see a huge siege weapon being wheeled out from a building.

Duncan charges off into the city, and I attempt to deal with the skeletons on the ramparts. My arrows do not work, and so I follow Duncan. We finally dispatch those on the ramparts, and turn to see those wheeling the crossbow vanishing. This is not good. There must be a spell caster (Probably a necromancer) nearby. If I can find him and talk to him I might be able to trash out a deal. I head to the building that housed the siege weapon. It looks like an inn of sorts, and they had converted the stabling here to host the weapon.

I arrive just as Duncan charges in. It seems I am just in time for him. He has picked a fight with one of the ghouls, and it is winning (If only it had been the cleric!) Together however, we dispatch it the ghoul, but something slams the doors behind us. We head up out of the stabling; I head to the roof to fight some skeletons there, while Duncan heads back into the town proper. It seems he has seen something.

I am dealing with the skeletons when suddenly there is a strange feeling in the air, and the skeleton’s eyes, which had (as is usually the case) been glowing red, change color and turn bright blue. The skeleton stops fighting me and looks around. I get the impression that an entirely different intelligence is now looking out through its eyes. When it looks at me the pinpricks of light seem to widen (in shock perhaps?) and then narrow (in anger?)  Then, before I could do anything else, the skeleton (and all of it’s comrades) crumples to dust. The spellcaster has clearly fled.

I take the opportunity to search the rest of the inn before the others get here. It seems that I was right in my initial assumption that there was a necromancer here. He obviously left in a hurry, leaving a good deal of his stuff behind. I take my fair share, and hand the rest out to the others to pass out among themselves. Then, Duncan directs me to a newly scorched symbol in the earth. It says one word “Traitor.” Oh dear.

Day 272

We reach the Bazaar without further incident. As I have been here before, I know my way around, but I feign ignorance to keep the others in the dark. They wish to train, and do all sorts of stuff. All I wish to do is purchase a few items (Something to boost my intelligence) a task that will take me a little more than a few hours. Nevertheless they are planning to stay here for a while.

Day 282.

This place, like everywhere else, becomes boring after a while. I have sampled most of the foods. (Including such dishes as Haggis. (Which is, apparently a north man delicacy. Heulwyn looked sickened when he was informed what it was.) Oatcakes (fried porridge, which is not as bad as it may seem) and a series of strange Erudite dishes (Piri piri was interesting if hot, and Kelewele was an interesting dessert. My favourite dishes though were clearly the varieties of something called curry – interestingly, there appears to be a similar elven dish – though their dish contains no meat, which defeats much of the object I feel.) Of course, the food was not all edible.

I have now learnt my lesson with regards to dwarven snack breads, which lay across the stomach like an anvil and I shall not purchase from a dwarven vendor again. The other race I will not buy from is, of course, the trolls. Even my stomach turns at what they eat.

Still, at least now it looks like we are going in the morning. The others have finished their training. I am trying – unsuccessfully – to persuade them to head north and deal with this giant, and they are still resisting.

Suddenly a face from the past appears. It is Puntar, the desert barbarian sprog. He has, apparently, been looking for us. He informs us that he has been sent to find us as his village needs out help. The old manor house on the village outskirts is now infested with some sort of goblin. They appear to be bigger and more dangerous than normal goblins, and we soon identify them as hobgoblins, bigger, nastier, more brutish cousins of normal goblins. It was apparently a Paladin’s house (Oh joy) and there may be some holy relic left there. (I hope that if there is, I am able to find it and destroy it.)

Day 283

We start to travel back across the desert. The journey is depressingly familiar. I have been this way too many times. When we camp, I search for something to alleviate the boredom, and start studying the book that we got from the ruined house back in Freeport.

It is interesting to say the least, and I am disturbed by Duncan, who wants me to put the book away until after my watch.

After I finish my watch I go back to studying the book. I can not quite make out the words. The script is smudged and illegible in places (Possibly as a result of the decay in the house) After a few minutes trying to puzzle the words out in my head, I give up and start saying them aloud, in the hope that hearing the syllables will help tease out their meaning.

No such luck. The words remain as impenetrable as ever. The only thing I discern is that they sound wrong. I try some other variation on the syllables, remembering my teacher once telling me that in some tongues dd is pronounced th. That does not help. I try all the other pronunciation tricks he suggested, rolling the R’s, not pronouncing H’s or K’s pronouncing gh’s as Fs. Nothing seems to help. I decide to try once more, and this time I almost seem to have it. I feel the power, but it is uncontrolled, unfocused. Heartened, I try again, refining my words, taking my time. I seem to have it! I know what this does.

Or at least I would have done, if Duncan had not shouted at me at that precise moment. My focus goes, and the insight is lost. I turn to reprimand Duncan, but he keeps yelling at me to move, pointing at something by my feet.

Skeletons are dragging themselves from the ground at my feet. That must be part of what the spell was doing. I wonder if I can control them?  Duncan however attacks them, and any hope I have off controlling them is gone. I turn and assist him in his fight, dispatching them with ease. It is a pity, but maybe I will be able to use the book with a little more practice.

Day 284

We are back to traveling by night. Once again I take the first watch with Duncan. Nothing happens, so I return to the tent. Duncan goes to sleep, while I pick up the book. I remember how I spoke the words yesterday, so I refine my pronunciation, and speak them again, this time looking around. The ground churns in front of me. It seems the spell has worked. I step back, ready to see what happens next. A skeleton pulls himself out of the crowd. I try and dominate it.

It does not work. The spell is still not right. The creature’s mind is not in place and it attacks me. I fight it off, and am doing quite well, until Brand steps in and kills it. Then, bizarrely, he hits me, and tells me not to read the book again. He seems irate.

Day 285

I hate the desert. Brand has been giving me evil looks the entire time we have been traveling, and my chest is still sore from where the lummox punched me. It is not something I will forget. I will have my revenge.

Day 286

More sand. Argh. I hate this place.

Day 290

We have traveled for a good few days now, and have exhausted our conversation. Brand still glowers at me occasionally, and the looks darken considerably every time I even go near the book, so even that diversion is now closed to me. I find myself searching for giant tracks, dervishes, or anything, so I can kill it and ease my boredom. There is nothing at all to do.

Day 296

Finally We arrive at the village. It is the same as the last time we were here. The villagers are however glad to see Brand and Duncan, and almost fall over themselves with their enthusiasm. It is nauseating. Brand even seems to catch the eye of the barmaid (who seems a pretty wench, so why she would want to spend time with Brand – who even at his best looks (and smells) like a badly shaven bear – is beyond me. Still she seems interested, and retires to Brands room with him. It is nauseating, and I pray for Brand to catch the pox.

Day 297

I am woken by a scream. It is a shrill, keening noise, and it is emanating from Brands room. As I open the door, and look into the corridor, I see that it is the wench (who’s name I have still not discovered) She is babbling to the inn owner and Duncan. It is as incoherent as their speech normally is, but whatever she is saying it seems to worry Duncan, who turns to me. She senses my puzzlement at their words, and he translates It seems that Brand is ill. Now there is a shame.

Brand appears to be sweating profusely, and seems to be covered in black pustules. Apparently there is also a foul stench, but to me that is what Brand normally smells like, so there is no change. It worries Duncan however. Duncan, of course, has experience of being diseased, and so he thinks he knows a bit more than most people.

Duncan yells for Heulwyn, who comes running. He sticks his head into the door and then he swears. There may be hope for him yet.  He looks at the wench and then back at brand, before ordering her into a small empty side room, and telling her to see no one. He moves into Brands room and I can hear (and feel) the usual disgusting chanting. As always it sends a shiver down my spine. A few minutes pass, and a few more. Duncan looks worried, as does the owner of the inn. I attempt to simulate the emotion, an attempt that obviously passes muster, as they do not spend too long looking at me, and they go back to talking in hushed voices. They stop as Heulwyn comes out of the room. He holds a hand up to forestall discussion and heads straight to see the wench. He is not as long with her as he had been with Brand, and he remerges in a few minutes. He mutters something under his breath, and turns to us all, looking concerned.

It seems Brand had caught the pox (Shame that) but the progress of the disease has now been halted, and even reversed. It will take him a few days to recover his full strength, and during this time he is not to leave the room and no-one but the cleric is too see him. He says something about eating fresh vegetables and drinking fruit juices and then he tails off, muttering how it will never happen. The wench it seems is fine, and has no trace of the disease, though he has cured her just in case.

It seems however that we will have to stay here for a few days while Brand recovers, this is not something I had counted on.

Day 298

We are waiting for Brand to recover. The day itself is mostly uneventful, save for a brief moment of amusement as Heulwyn tries fish wine and ends up smelling like a decomposing trout. He goes for a swim in the sea to clear the stench. Heh. I suggest to Duncan that we go and scout the mansion by land, and it is firmly rebuffed. He wishes to stay and wait for Brand.

Day 300

We finally set off.

It has taken us long enough.

We go by sea to the jetty at the back of the mansion. When we arrive, it is curiously quiet. There is a damaged platform leading to a door at the back of the mansion, and there is a small cave almost hidden by the tide and Duncan decides to go swimming. Rather than wait for him to report back, I send my skeleton to the door and open it. Inside, there is a small corridor, with a few doors off, and steps up. Two things strike me as being of immediate interest, the room at the end of the corridor, which contains a number of Froglock corpses, and a body in the centre of the corridor. I order the skeleton to bring it out. It is still alive, and Heulwyn insists on curing it. As Heulwyn does that, I head in myself and look around. There is nothing of worth in the two nearby rooms, so I send the skeleton in too retrieve the chest. It touches the chest and there is a huge explosion as the fireball trap detonates. If the Froglocks were not dead before, they are now. They are little more than smears on the wall. I swear and summon another skeleton, ordering this one to open the chest. However as soon it is touches it, there is another fireball. Annoyed now, and knowing that I am partially immune to fire, I decide to go myself. Anything this well protected is obviously worth having. I grab the chest and fling it open. I am shocked to see that there is, in fact, nothing inside the chest.

It is a trap!

I  feel the fireball burst around me secure in the knowledge that I am immune, and watch in horror as my protective amulet crumbles to dust!

I may have miscalculated things a little.

In fact, I miscalculated a lot.

I did not realize the full extent of this miscalculation until later, but I did immediately feel some power drain from me. (Later on I tallied up what I had lost – my backpack and virtually everything in it, my dervish ring, my intelligence boosting ring, my cloak (An it’s mana boosting powers) and the giant reminder string belt (which I had only recently bought.) Fortunately, my other items (The shield, the bow, and the sword all survived.)

I descended into a feral rage and looked for something to attack. (Like Brand’s I suppose, though of course, mine has more reason.) The first thing that came into sight was a strange barbarian woman. I attempted to fire an arrow at this clearly evil apparition, but the others (Duncan having returned from his swim) and my blind rage stopped me. The arrow flew wide. The other’s mutter that barbarian’s couldn’t be evil (They are obviously forgetting Brand!)

The woman however took it in her stride. She seemed to understand my need to hit something. Indeed she offered to show us around, saying that the hobgoblins had been driven off.

The house itself was largely as I expected.  The woman showed us around the house to prove the point, though we saw no corpses. Finally, she showed us up a narrow set of stairs. So narrow in fact that we had to go one at a time. Strangely, given the perfect conditions for an ambush, it was a trap. An ogre burst out of the rooms at the top and attacked Duncan, while the woman (who revealed herself to be an ogre enchanter) attacked the cleric at the back. Of course, I was stuck in the middle, and I could do nothing. Even when Duncan succeeded in driving his ogre back to allow Brand into the fray, I was still unable to attack any of the creatures. Finally, Duncan and Brand dropped theirs, and we are all turned to the ogre enchanter. Heulwyn dropped out of the way to allow us through, but the Ogre vanished with a spell. Heulwyn thought it may have gated away, but could not be sure. Frustrated, we were left with the house to search. There was nothing of value here. Though the cleric did of course find a temple to Mithaniel Marr (Oh Joy!) Duncan even went back and searched the waterlogged cave again, and other than evidence that they had found and removed something from there, there was nothing to find there either. Things were not working out well for me!

The day got no better as it wore on. I was sleeping when suddenly there was a boom in the distance. A frowned, but the others had seen the explosion and were all jabbering away excitedly. Brand was of the opinion that this was a diversion, attempting to get us away from the house. Duncan and Heulwyn were not so sure, and the second explosion over the village made their minds up. We headed off at a run towards the village.

As we arrived, we could see that there was trouble. A horde of dark shadows were attacking the village, all directed by a familiar looking figure. We resolved to attack and take out the wizard, attempting to sneak towards them. We were spotted however – something that Duncan blames upon my armour being bright. I was prepared for the attack, and fired some arrows. My first two arrows merely caused one of the oncoming figures to stumble. My third however was a much more palpable hit, and severed his head, sending it bouncing across the sands. The others kept coming, and it soon became clear that we were facing ogres. I shouldered my bow and drew sword and shield.

The fight was ferocious. Things would have gone a lot worse for us if the opposition had been disciplined. As it was, their archers fired straight into the melee, damaging their own troops more effectively than we were. Soon the ogres had all dropped. We rushed up the hill to the spell caster. However, we were met by three barbarians (could this have been evil I wonder?) and when we dropped them,  a group of human archers took their place!

The spell caster strode down the hill towards the now smashed and open gates. The cleric and myself ploughed into the archers, while Duncan vanished. (I later discovered that he had rushed into the village, jumping the wall.) I hacked my way through the six archers in my way, and stared down into the throng that had been ordered to hold the gates. Hoping to intimidate them with my show of bravado, I bellowed a challenge and charged down the hill. I dropped the first with two powerful blows, and finally put the cleave skill I learnt ages ago to good use, following through and impaling another. The thought that I should finally learn great cleave if I survived popped into my head. I dodged and parried the blows raining around me, slowly making my way through the crowd and into the village. I never made it. As the last rank appeared in front of me a cry of despair rang out and they turned and fled. I was able to hamstring one as he fled, but the others made it away. It transpired that Duncan had killed the spellcaster.

The cost to the village had been high. Many of the able bodied men were dead, and many more were wounded. It was only Heulwyn’s intervention that stopped the mayor following them to the halls of the dead. While Duncan and the others tidied up in the town, I went outside, looting the corpses I could find. (It seemed that the women and the children of the village had much the same idea, so I was only able to get a small amount. I pocketed four dervish rings (In addition to the ones given us by the mayor out of the material recovered by the village) and managed to heal myself a little by taking the life force of the dying. I also discovered some small change, but in order to cover my back, I donated that to the village. It was daylight again when I got back there, and as Heulwyn and Duncan tended to the wounded, I feel into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Day 301

There is still feverish activity all around me when I wake. Heulwyn is still churning out the healing and attempting to resurrect people. The resurrections however are not working, and he is warned off shortly thereafter. I decide to take my leave and help pick up corpses outside the village. I notice as I do this I am being followed by a small boy. He runs as I approach, and after this pattern is repeated a few times I give up. I summon a skeleton to help me, and dress him in the cloak. When I return to the village I notice that I have two cloaked followers.

Duncan and Huelwyn are waiting for me when I get back, arguing over what to do next. Eventually we decide to go Crocodile hunting before we head back to Freeport (or wherever)

Day 302

I am still being followed by the child. It still does not wish to speak to me, however I wonder how long it will go before it needs food. Eventually, we find a crocodile and Duncan attempts to draw it into an ambush. It works, but we get no teeth (again.) We need to get another. Still, at least we get some fresh crocodile steaks, which are quite tasty. I cook one and place it aside for the sprog, who comes into range only long enough to grab it before vanishing to a safe distance to eat it. Then, we head off to find another.

This crocodile is much bigger, and proves far more difficult to kill. One of my arrows bounces right off it and almost skewers Duncan. Eventually however we kill this one too. Yet, once again, all of it’s teeth are broken. I wonder if Duncan will ever get the crocodile teeth he needs? More importantly, I wonder if I will ever get out of this bloody desert.

Day 303

Brand arrives now that he has decided the house isn’t going to be attacked (Or maybe he doesn’t care, I’m not sure.) Duncan talks for a while with the remaining authorities in the village, and then he agrees that we should all return to Freeport. About Blasted time.

Unfortunately, he also agrees that when we are there we should ask for a new supplies caravan for the village, and that we should search for a missing caravan (that should have been in the village two days ago.) Why I don’t know – I think we can guess what has happened to it. It’s gone boom. It’s been destroyed. But at least the group is going in the right direction. That’s a start.

The boy is still following me, and as we head out at sunset I am not surprised to see him there, tagging along behind the party. Why does he not introduce himself? Oh, never mind, I’m sure I will find out eventually.

The only other thing of note is the divvying up of the items that the spell-caster who attacked the village had on her. Among the mundane items were a couple of magical ones, including an amulet. No one seemed to know what it does, but then I remembered what one of the symbols on it meant. It’s an old glyph, and sometimes used by necromancers – Loosely translated it means “will”. As soon as I remembered this, the other glyphs fall into place – over riding or over powering will. It’s an amulet of mind control. I want it, but I can’t let the others know what it does.

I have almost managed to convince the bloody cleric to hand it over to me, explaining that it is a necromantic item and he therefore will have no use for it whatsoever, when the little shit manages to activate it! Bastard!

Of course, then the cat is out of the bag, and there is no way I am getting it. (I believe the exact phrase was – over his dead body – which is, I will say, remarkably prescient of him. I will have no trouble arranging that if it is what it takes.) I will however have to bide my time. I can wait.

Day 305

The monotony of the sand is beginning to take its toll again. During the day, Duncan spots something. I am not sure what, and at first I don’t care. Duncan is insistent however, so I take another look. It’s sand. What else would it be?

This desert has, I have found, a lot of sand. Pointing out more of it is not something that honestly helps anyone.

Then Brand goes over and kicks something, which doesn’t react like sand. It doesn’t shift and makes a thud noise.

There is something there. We soon uncover the remains of the caravan. The corpses near the surface have of course been picked clean by the obvious desert scavengers, but some of the bodies have been left intact. And, surprisingly enough have money on them, which means that things are not a complete loss.

I collect all that up while Duncan looks around for tracks and finds none. It has been too long and the wind had covered them. Even I could tell him that. I almost do in fact, but bite my tongue just before I start explaining the desert winds. It may give too much away to reveal my more detailed knowledge of the desert climate.

I noticed something else interesting about the body we discover. There are little things that point to one conclusion. He was buried alive – at least partially. I wonder if it was a sandstorm, or something more sinister.

I decide to try out one of the new spells I have acquired from the book - the spell to speak with dead. I concentrate and focus the power, and manage to get the saps soul back for a second.

Of course, the information he imparts isn’t much use. He insists that he was killed by undead and the wind (which would, I suppose, account for burial, and the sand that appears to have been driven behind his eyeballs – but it doesn’t reveal anything useful.) A further question reveals they did it on the order of the dark eye. I think that the name should mean something, but it is a niggling feeling and no amount of probing my brain can shake the information loose. ARGH!

Day 310

The monotony of the desert is beginning to get to me. Again. This is annoying! The boy is still following, and still moving away whenever I try and speak to him. I hate the desert!

Day 317

At last out of the desert. We head back into the city. My first thought is to head down below and speak to people down there; maybe I can palm the child off to them if I do. But, the others now know about the child, and it will take but a careless word from Brand and I will have to explain.

I decide therefore to go to the Steel Warriors first. The boy makes things easy for me by refusing to enter the guild and waits outside. That seems fine to me. The warriors accept my report. Unsurprisingly, they don’t know about the dark eye.

The boy seems far more at ease when I do head down below. They accept the information I have as well. I ask them about the dark eye but they know also know nothing, but they do promise to have a look and see what they can find. I swap the dervish rings for another ring, which boosts my intelligence. I believe it is called a glimmer ring. I am also told that it has a one-use power – that of a gate spell. They do not know where it will gate too, but in the event of a dire emergency, I can gate somewhere. Hopefully I won’t need to do so until I am sure that the cleric is dead.

Day 319

My training is going well. I still have not found out the boys name, though I do know that he has his own weapons and some skills. I have improved upon my cleaving skill, and have finally managed to master the tricky art of following through to catch more than one opponent. My skill with swords is now greatly improved. I pick up a few other little skills and then head back to find out what the others are doing.

Of course, they are all wandering around learning things elsewhere in the city. I try and find a job to do for myself, but none are forthcoming, most requiring a group of adventures to help with them, so I have nothing to do but wait.

Discovering the Duncan has volunteered us to go back with the supplies caravan does not help my mood! Why? He’s meant to be from the frozen north! How can he stand being in the blasted desert !?!  Why doesn’t he melt?

My choices are now very limited. I have little money left, and I need to stay with the group so that I can earn more it seems. This is not good.

Day 324

We leave the city and head back into the desert. Joy.

Day 327

We have been traveling for two days, and I am already annoyed and distracted. When Duncan spots some dervishes in the distance, I want to go kill them and Brand agrees readily. Perhaps the desert is finally getting to him too. Heulwyn of course gets all snotty and offended, but then what do you expect? He seems to think that randomly killing annoying sods that want to kill you is a bad thing! How he can come to this conclusion is beyond me. We finally manage to bring him around to the idea, and, when it gets light, and the caravan starts to stop, we do sneak off and catch the dervishes.

A short fight ends up with them being dealt with in convincing fashion. Of course, at that point we notice an unusual sandstorm swirling around the caravan. Oh dear. What a shame.

We jog back to the caravan, and find that most people are dead. Duncan immediately heads off to look for tracks, while we all try and find survivors. There is only one. And he can tell us nothing that we do not already know. He was attacked by the wind and by undead. Fortunately, Duncan finds tracks, and we can follow them.

We do follow them for a while, until we reach what appears to be the top of a pyramid. The tracks vanish into it. At first we can find no door, but a detailed search reveals a well concealed one eventually. Of course, opening it is another matter.

We spend a good half hour looking for an opening mechanism. We find none. I suggest digging down, and none of the others want to do it, so Heulwyn uses the power of the amulet to make a suggestion to me. He will pay for that. We excavate the door, and after much effort, succeed in prying it open. In doing so we make a lot of noise, and succeed in dropping several tools down the stairs. Anything that is there knows we are coming.

We head down, walking slowly and carefully. We need not have bothered. There is no-one waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. Unfortunately we now have another locked door. It does not even appear to have a locking mechanism; it is just a stone bulwark that goes from the floor to the ceiling. The only feature of interest is a huge engraved eye in the centre. It too appears to do nothing.

 We look at it for ten minutes or so. Nothing happens. It is again Duncan that notices the key. When I approach the eye, the door wobbles. I approach again, watching carefully this time, and it does indeed, wobble. I think about this and wave a hand in front of the eye, which has no effect.  In desperation I send my skeleton towards the door. It opens.

Behind it are two dark bone skeletons. They destroy my pet very quickly, but we in turn dispatch them. We are now in a corridor.

Several more doors with eyes in are in front of us, and we move through them all.

About half have dry bone skeletons in them, the other half are empty.

Finally, we come to an L Shaped corridor. One arm heads in a direction I shall call north, and another heads in a direction I shall call west. We head west. This leads to a parallel corridor. Here, the doors are normal, and Brand opens the first door with his boots. Inside is another room. There appears to be another door off it. To either side are huge blue columns that flicker and glow. They provide a sort of fitful illumination. I send my skeleton to the other door, and the columns shatter into shards of ice. Two ice elementals spring forth and – once again attack my pet. We subdue them eventually, but once again my pet has been destroyed, and we have taken damage. We all need to rest, and we need to retrieve mana. We give the room beyond a quick look – and it is empty of any threat. The boy wedges the door shut, and we rest.

Day 328

Refreshed after our rest, we fully investigate the room beyond.  It seems to be empty. This can not be the case, and after some investigation, we discover too doors off – one at either side. We look in the room to the left first of all. There are huge statues in this room. They are of a strange design, a strange human snake/hybrid. Could this be the shissar? It is a possibility I suppose.  The main statue is holding a bowl of strange blue liquid. After much examination, Brand dips an arrow in it. It comes up glistening and glowing blue. The liquid seems to embed itself into the very fabric of the arrow, infusing it with some new properties of some sort.

The room to the right is identical with one minor exception. The liquid in the bowl this time is red. Once again, Brand dips an arrow into the red liquid with much the same result. He seems satisfied, and places it in his quiver. It proves to be a mistake. The minute the blue and the red liquids touch there is an explosion. Brand is the centre of an exploding ball of fire. There is the smell of scorched and burning hair, and then several of brands items disintegrate, including his bow and several of his weapons and other items. He does not look happy.

We head out of this room and down the corridor opening each door as we go. The doors to the right open to stairs leading down and at the bottom of each set of stairs are Shissar statues, pointing either to the floor, or to large glowing balls. There appear to be doors on the other side – perhaps opening into the parallel corridor.

The doors to the left open into smaller rooms, most of which contain similar items to the rooms before, and similar inhabitants.

Finally, after a narrow escape with a lightening trap, we reach the end of the corridor. We enter a larger room, and here we find the goods taken from the caravan. There is a series of rooms here, obviously used as storage space. It’s like a warehouse. We wander through four or live linked rooms, one of which opens up into the other corridor we had seen earlier. However this is not the most interesting thing. At the back, on its own, is a strange room. Several Shsisar statues are pointing to a plaque on the floor. The plaque is covered in strange writing. While Brand quickly restocks himself we all look at the plaque. Finally Duncan gets the idea that it is loose, and tries to prise it up from the floor. It doesn’t get far, but we do see that underneath is a huge black orb. It is far too big and heavy for us to lift, so we leave it where it is.

I join Brand and retrieve some sundries. Now, armed with extra arrows we both head back and stock up on blue and red arrows, careful to keep them separate, while Heulwyn rests to recover his mana.

Unfortunately, the rest does not last long. We had barely returned for half an hour when our rest is disturbed. Something is smashing at the door. By the sounds it is something big and nasty.  It finally breaks through, and it is a Minotaur. We fight it. Brand and I take the opportunity to fire arrows as it comes through the door, discovering that the arrows dipped in the red and blue liquids does extra damage. Finally it dies. It has nothing on it, or so I think.

This sets Heulwyn’s rest back a bit, and we rest for a while longer. This time some sort of automaton disturbs us. It almost looks like one of the gnome’s clockworks. Brand and Duncan jump in, and it blasts them with steam. This has the effect of cleaning the two of them. As the pressurised steam hits them dirt and debris falls off them. Brand’s beard straightens and last months meals finally get removed. This is a very good thing Maybe he will smell less now. Unfortunately, they kill it before it can properly clean them.

We rest again for a few more hours. This time we are disturbed by the wall suddenly sprouting strange, mechanical spiders. They ignore us however and head off into one of the side rooms. We watch, surprised, as they take all the crates and they vanish into the room with the statues.

We head off back down the corridor to the south. It is quickly clear that this is not a parallel corridor. More of the undead eye doors line this corridor, as do a number of natural door (so to speak) but the contents remain the same – that is, until we reach the end, and see two doors with gilded dark eyes. Duncan chooses this moment to see if the glove he has discovered upon the minotaur does anything, and it opens the doors. Inside is an ornate sarcophagus. Of course we move to open it. Unsurprisingly, the coffin is occupied, and it’s occupant ant does not take well to being woken.

What is surprising however is that Heulwyn points at it, and it explodes into a ball of dust. While Heulwyn stares at his finger in surprise, we rifle through the remains. I only manage to snag a nice pair of gauntlets. The others get other items (Brand I believe picked up a magical sword) and we also find a series of gems, probably worth a fair bit of money.

We then head out and open the other gilded door. A similar set up is visible. This time however, things do not go the same way. Duncan and Brand have much more trouble lifting the lid, and the creature inside gets several easy attacks before Heulwyn can even see it. When he does see it, his finger does not appear to be loaded. This creature does a lot more damage, and to make matters worse, there is nothing of value in the sarcophagus.

Now, we need to rest. We barricade the door.

Day 329

At least I think that is what it is, when you are underground, you tend to lose sight of what time of day it is. There is one more door we have not investigated here, and we open it. It proves to be a mistake. A huge gelatinous blob slides out. We pepper it was flame arrows (We seem to do some damage) but it keeps coming. We attempt to run away, but all the eye doors have slammed shut, and the eyes have closed. They can not be reopened. We have to deal with the cube. I keep peppering it with red arrows, as does Brand, while Duncan chucks a lit oil flask at it. That slows it down, and sends it into retreat. However, it fills the corridor with acrid foul smelling smoke, forcing us to retreat into one of the few side rooms we can access. We wait for an hour and the head out. The cube is gone, but the doors remain locked. We have to go inside the room the cube came from. Inside, it is an empty room little more than a corridor with alcoves on either side. I check the alcoves and there are secret doors. I open one. There is a lever there. I pull it, and I am attacked by a giant undead hand. We finally kill it. It was obviously released from another door. Checking there, I see another lever, which I pull. Nothing happens, but when I check outside, the eyes are open again, and the doors can be opened.

We head back out, along the corridors we have already explored. We stop in the storeroom, which now has a different set of crates. These are labeled shadow haven – the place name rings a bell, but I don’t know why. We decide to rifle through them. Again, most of it is sundries, but there are a few interesting items, including a small blade, which Duncan insists on calling by a stupid and unpronounceable name. It seems to be a decent weapon however.

We wander back along the corridors we have already searched. I make a minor detour to dip my war hammer in the red liquid.

When I return, I discover them all waiting by the stairs that lead back into the corridor facing north. For me perhaps? No, instead, they have spotted something. It appears to be a huge set of boots. So huge that whoever is wearing them can’t get down through the corridor. Brand hits upon the idea of chucking vials of the liquids at it. So we do. It only succeeds in blowing a huge crater in the floor. The boots (And therefore probably whatever is wearing them) remain intact. Duncan charges, and finally the armour collapses into its constituent parts. It was a golem of some description. We head off down the other corridor. The doors (now on our left of course) do of course lead to the same rooms as before. There are however corridors to our right. As well as doors. We head down the first one, and discover it leads to two strange rooms. Both of which are empty – one is simply a blank corridor. The other even though protected by two lightening traps (One of which claims Brand’s new sword) simply leads to a set of stairs that go up and down. Confusing. We search around, looking for more secret doors. We find some, but in general they only lead to empty rooms. The only exception leads to a room with 15 coffins, each of which has a dry bone skeleton in.

Too much for us I think. We left the room alone. Other rooms were largely empty. We knew that sometime else was here, so we decided to look at the strange empty rooms. Maybe one of them had a secret door or something. My skeleton found nothing, but when Duncan walked up and down the steps, he vanished.

He returned when we called for him, and it seems that the stairs lead up and into another part of the complex.  On the other side is a corridor and three more doors, two in front of us and one to our left.

We went left, and into a room with a strange undead one-eyed goblin. I had barely got over the shock of that, when the gobbo smiled and called my sword. It went to him, flying through air.

Great, another annoying gimp claiming ownership of my property. He will have to die.

 We storm in, and it becomes clear that the gobbo is some sort of shadow knight as he slaps me with a harm torch. It also become clear that the knife that Duncan has retrieved is a very potent magical weapon as he starts to carve the creature up. Soon he lies dead again at our feet, and I retrieve MY sword from the corpse. Just to make sure I also take his head. Or rather, I begin to. Brand starts investigating a wooden chair, and causes a black globe to shoot out. He grabs at it, and it seems to gate him somewhere. The others try and retrieve the ball, and it gates out Duncan and Heulwyn. Now, I have a quandary. I have no desire to rush off and try and rescue them from whatever they have managed to get themselves into, but I also know that there may well be a lot of dry bone skeletons waiting for me before the exit. What am I to do? I decide to take my time making a decision; I carefully wrap the globe in some sackcloth and then set off back the way we came. If I head back to Freeport, and hold the globe with me, I can make the decision later. Unfortunately, it seems that I can not leave with the globe. Every time I try, I simply end up back where I started. My decision then is either to leave the globe, or to take my chances with wherever it is gating me. Making sure I have all my possessions, and the head of the gobbo – you never know, it may be worth something, I touch the globe.

Day 330

It is not really a new day, though it feels like it, the disconcerting effects of gate travel confusing my senses. A strange group of people inform me that I am on the moon and that Duncan and the others have headed that way – towards the great Bazaar. I head off after them, and discover Duncan and Heulwyn standing open mouthed at the edge of a great cavern. This place has earned its name. It makes the bazaar in the mountains look small and insignificant. We spend the rest of the day browsing. Well, most of do. Brand finds the nearest bar and gets blind drunk, refusing to believe it is the moon. The rest of us simply spend our money (The others getting somewhat better bargains than me – though I am happy with the intelligence and strength boosting items that I am able to purchase.) I spend a bit longer than them, sampling the food and drink available, and then we head back home.

Day 330 (continued)

It seems my guess at the days was correct as we finally make our way back to the firm ground of Norrath. Fortunately we are not in the desert, and we appear to be in the common lands somewhere. We head back to Freeport.

Day 337

The Journey has been uneventful. As soon as we are back in Freeport, Duncan heads off to the wizards guild to sell the location of the complex. We manage to get a small amount of gold for this. As it is a small amount, I neglect to tell them about some of the traps and the like.

Then, I decide to one up Duncan, telling the Church of the Dismal rage (who will send a large delegation to claim the place.) and informing them of all the traps and the way to get to the room with the globe. When they tell me there is no bounty on the head of the gobbo – who is dark eye, I take the head and travel back to the steel warriors. They are grateful for the report, but they too will not pay me any money for dark eye. Now, however, we can train, and I can learn new spells, having finally unlocked another level of mystic potential. Now, if only I can find some way of getting them cheaply . . .

Day 350

We have spent some time training. I see little of any of the others, though I do see Brand occasionally wandering around. When I do see them I try and persuade them to help me deal with the giant in the common lands, despite the fact that they seem remarkably uninterested. I finally meet them all again in the inn and once again we have the same discussion.  It goes badly. However this time they are interested in traveling to Befallen, which is an interesting turn of events, following their earlier refusals.

What’s more there is some good news; the benighted cleric will not be coming with us. (Joy) however, there is some bad news too. He has an apprentice, a paladin, whose name I can not be bothered to remember. Of course Duncan opens this nonce with open arms. It seems the paladin wants to go to befallen too. His brother (or some relative – like I care which) had his soul imprisoned there (hah.)  Wouldn’t it be a shame if he died there too.

Day 351

We set out, heading for befallen. It will take us about four weeks to get there. The paladin is proving to be as insufferable as the cleric was. In fact, no, he’s proving to be worse. Why do I attract these people? What is it? This will be a long four weeks.

Day 358

I am hoping that something will attack us before too long. Preferably something bad, large and nasty that has a taste for Paladin. Or failing that, just something that will rip out his tongue and stop him talking! His inane prattle is beginning to annoy me.

Day 378

Befallen is close now. And I have a plan. It is, I think eminently reasonable, and I start explaining it. Worryingly, they all agree. That is strange, yet I find myself unable to question it, because for once, it’s good luck.

Day 379

At last we seem to be getting somewhere. We have reached the entrance. I will walk in first, and they will stay here for a good 20 minutes. I plan to simply walk in, talk to whoever is there, get the book and leave. If they wish to fight stuff it is their problem. Them dying is, of course, my solution, but it remains in the future.

I walk forward into a dark and dank tunnel. Obviously, there is a serve lack of imagination at work here. The tunnel twists and turns this way and that, doubling back on itself once or twice. Up ahead I can hear the noise of pick on rock, and finally I can see movement. There are skeletons trying to clear a rock fall up ahead. I walk towards one, commanding it to take me to its leader. It obeys, or at least seems too, turning away from its task and leading me inside.

Of course we don’t get very far before the others bugger things up by trying to creep up behind me. (As if they could creep anywhere!)

They destroy the skeletons, even drawing off the one I have leading me. I have to return to them to advise them (in no uncertain terms) to go away and leave this to me. They seem not to understand, so I explain it again – using shorter words and more appropriate adjectives. This time they seem to get it.

I head off once again into the dark environs. Unfortunately they have managed to stir up some of the defenses, and I am rather quickly attacked. I draw the skeleton back to the others and let them deal with it, before setting off for the third time. Why am I cursed to work with fools and simpletons!

The room here is huge, some sort of old banqueting hall perhaps. At the far end is an indistinct green glow. As I approach, I can see it more clearly, or rather them. They appear to be two skulls, half way up a wall. This is a type of undead I have never come across before and they would clearly merit further study at some point. But now, I have other things to do.

At last I find someone sensible and repeat my earlier entreaty to be taken to whoever is in charge of this place.  They show me to a waiting room. There are many others here, all awaiting to see the leader and one by one they leave. I however simply wait, and wait, and wait. I have no idea of the passage of time, but it must be a good few hours. Finally, outraged at the lack of respect, I decide to go and find the person in charge myself. Outside the door is a skeletal guard, who will not let me pass.

After my attempts at negotiation fail, I hit it, which draws out a tall dark elf. He may be a Shadow knight, but he is obviously lacking in intelligence, as he thinks he can match me in combat. Despite the presence of a few gnomic nuisances, I soon disabuse him of that notion, though he does manage a few tricks I had not thought off, before he dies.

The gnomes flee as he falls, and I decide that perhaps I should retreat for now. I grab the dark elf’s body and leave, heading back out. There is no sign of the others here, but when I get outside, there is no sign of them there either. Fortunately I just about catch sight of the Paladin’s horse (his survives and mine does not – there is no justice!) and I set off in pursuit. Finally the others notice my calls and stop, allowing me to catch up. It seems that something has successfully managed to fell the paladin. (There is some justice it seems!) and they are taking him to a place where he can be cured.

We stop and I get the chance to loot the dark elf’s body. Apart from a spell book – which contains some useful items, and a set of keys, he has nothing much on him, just bog standard armor and materials. I take the head and bury the body. The others seem reticent to discuss what exactly felled the Paladin, and I leave them too it. It was probably something that they underestimated. Never mind.

We rest for the night, only disturbed briefly by a dark elf. Duncan kills her before she gets a chance to do anything. Her body however simply rots to dust. Most odd.

Day 380

The paladin wakes up in the morning with the rest of us, and suddenly they all wish to return to Befallen. We return, and start systematically searching the place. One of the first rooms we find is the library. Could it really be this easy? Sadly, no. A thorough search of the place reveals no sign of the book. It’s not here.

We move on. In the next room are two acolytes waiting for instructions. Duncan, surprisingly, gives them instructions to attack the two skulls. The skulls defeat them handily, and we send the two off to Qeynos.

The rest of the place reveals little. The Shadow knights room has a few items, but not many, and a rather annoying trap. 

The last place we come to has a number of the gnomish acolytes, who seem intent on trying to cause damage, despite their puny abilities. We dispatch them, but the room they are guarding has stairs leading down, and something was coming up.

Day 380 (Continued)

Unsurprisingly it was anther group of undead coming up the stairs and we lay into them with our usual bravado. Hit hard and hit fast. It is pointless me trying to encourage the others to think of such concepts as tactics, they lack the brains to understand. Take Brand for instance, suddenly during the course of the battle, he stops and opens the door behind us. He later claimed that he heard a noise behind us, as if someone is trying to creep up behind us. So, what does he do? Open the door for them! Idiot!

Fortunately, nothing disastrous happens, at least not immediately. Instead, another barbarian comes flying in, skids, tumbles over and just about avoids falling over the side and into the darkness below. I dispatch the last skeleton (None of them so far in this place have listened to me sadly.) and then turn to see who these newcomers are. Unfortunately they appear to be another paladin. (This one also has a name. I also do not care about it.) and a Barbarian shaman. While he is undoubtedly thick, he is not as thick as the other two, though Brand seems to take an instant dislike to him. I wonder why?  Has Brand been a naughty boy and wound up those up north?) It would explain why he won’t go back) and he stomps off in a huff. I decide to leave them too it as well – two paladins – how bloody annoying. I think perhaps I should look at the library again. As I announce this, Duncan turns and loudly asks what book I am looking for. I quickly spin him a tale that I am looking for the journal at the request of the steel warriors. Duncan nods and accepts it. (Like I was going to tell him that the church of the dismal rage wanted it. Of course, knowing Duncan, if he found it, he would give it to the militia!)

I head off to the library though I hold little hope as I suspect the journal is much deeper in this place than that. I can not imagine that such a book would be so easily discovered – if it was, why has it not been returned to the proper hands yet? – Still it will not hurt to check, and it will assist me no end to avoid the chattering of Paladins.

Brand decides to follow me, and helps (if his actions can be called helping rather than a hindrance) by passing me any piece of paper he can get his hands on. I spend a good deal of time here. There seem to be lots of “interesting” items such as recipe books, and instructions on how to grow roses and what to look for in terms of insect infestation, but no sign of what I am looking for. A few times I am distracted by the sounds of combat nearby, and once I swear that I can smell burning, but I am keep looking.

After about 6 hours, I have searched every book here. My initial thought was right. It is not here. In fact, there is nothing valuable here at all. I feel week now, something I put down at first to the sheer tedium, but then I notice that my skin has taken on a greenish tinge. It seems I need a healing. We head off in search of the others. Their trial is clear. They have headed down into the depths. Unfortunately, that is the only direction that we can be clear they have gone. At the bottom of the ramp leading down, the tunnel bifurcates. We head left, and soon we come to a closed door and Brand, displaying his usual subtlety, shoulder charges it. Inside are a lot of dead bodies. After some discussion, I decide to investigate and head inside. As I enter the room, I am immediately aware of Skeletons on guard, and I attempt to command them. It works! At last! The power is finally with me. Unfortunately, the room contains little of value, just a sheer bone mask (which I suggest Brand wears to disguise his features) and a combine short sword. We store them, and head on.

It is clear that the others headed right, and we soon find them, camped in a room with the body of a cleric of Solosek Ro. (Typical when we do find one, the others killed her!) I persuade Duncan to heal me, and then we discuss what they have discovered (Not much.) As we are talking, a strange mist seeps in from the far door, and flows through the room. The others are perturbed by this, but I don’t mind. It just tickles me slightly. Then I realize what it is doing, and can not help but laugh. All the undead they have slain upstairs has returned to life. Even the body of the cleric in this room starts to get to her feet. They chop her head off. (She looked passably pretty in life (and didn’t worship an annoying god. What a waste!)

When I tell them what has happened and what the mist has done, one of the Paladins and the Shaman retrace our steps to the front entrance to clear our path (which means one less annoyance.) We however forge on. From somewhere they have discovered a map, which shows a few interesting things, including rooms that are occupied. We head to the next occupied room marked on the map, and discover four dark elf acolytes, which we quickly dispatch. (They have nothing on them.) We move on, allowing Brand to display his barbarian thieving techniques (Shoulder charge or if feeling particularly adventurous on that day, boot, the door) on all the doors we discover. There is not much on this level.

One room contains another mummy, which we quickly dispatch. It does not stop Brand and Duncan making unfunny remarks about my sword however. (That mummy is buried and properly destroyed and the sword is mine!) Duncan insists on taking the wrappings from the mummy (Some sort of healing item I think.)

The only other room of interest, before we found the way down, contained a misshapen trollish shadow knight. We kill him too. If only they didn’t make the mistake of attacking me first! I manage to retrieve his spell book, while the others spend their time wondering why he was carrying a glass key. (Presumably it is to open a glass door.)

Finally, we discover the way down. Obviously from the map the others discovered, the denizens of this level have not been able to go down a level – as this room is marked with a symbol that the door is locked and they do not know where the key is. (A big key with a question mark is crudely drawn on it. I have to explain this deduction to Brand. Several times.)

The room is, well perhaps the best way to describe it is to say that the door opens onto what was a balcony. There are steps leading down to a huge iron door, and a pile of rubble in the middle of the floor. This was obviously part of the balcony floor, as there are the remains of a pit trap (with spears) in the pile of rubbish as well. Every body starts looking up and around, trying to spot anything in the room. They see nothing, so they insist that I go first this time. I therefore send the skeleton. Nothing attacks him, so I obviously follow, and I am promptly attacked by a tentacled creature, which emerges from the rubbish. It hurls me into the spears. As I get back to my feet, I charge it, and Duncan follows. The creature carries on attacking me, which, while somewhat flattering for my ego in a backhanded sort of way, proves to be a mistake, as Duncan starts carving huge gashes into it. Just what is the creature’s response? To try and swallow me! What? It just means that I carve out as Duncan is carving in. We soon make short work of it, and I lop it’s tentacles off for good measure. When I am convinced it is truly dead (and in little bits.) We start to examine the door. It is huge and iron, so the others are looking around for an iron key. I suggest that they use the glass key, which works.

The door opens. Inside it is cavernous, and there are chains hanging from the roof. I do not like something about this.  We confer for a while and then throw in a big boulder, to see what happens. Nothing seems to stir. So we send in Duncan. A chain attacks him. The two paladins also charge in, and get attacked by two more chains, though perhaps attacked is the wrong word. One of the paladins drops very quickly, while Duncan looks like he is taking huge amounts of damage. Brand rushes in and drags the Paladins body out, while I hang back, watching. It is a pity I could not slam the door while they were all inside. Though at least, as they have survived, they can help me look for the book.

When they have all left the room, the chains return to their places in the room. We need some way of disabling them. I suddenly remember I have a flask of acid, which I throw into the room. It has limited effect on the chain. This is not good. Finally we come up with the idea of lassoing the animated chains and tying them down to the balcony to destroy them. But first, we need to spot them all. We successfully manage to lasso one of them and tie it down. We do manage to destroy it, using my last flask of acid, but the chain appears to be regenerating. This is not good. We decide to only tie down the remaining three chains. Once again we need to spot what is in the room. I stand back, while the others all attempt to look into the room at the same time, smashing their heads together. All they can see at the moment is stars. Of course, it means I don’t see anything either, as I am too busy laughing at their idiocy.

After we have all recovered, we try again. We locate the remaining chains and tie them down, with Brand noticing a gold ring on one of them, which he swiftly removes, and Duncan, having cured himself, heads into the room. No more of the chains move, but he notices movement in the distance and, claiming that it has glowing red eyes, and having gone to the same school of subtlety as Brand, throws his axe at it.  At least 10 ghouls charge at him, he backs off the door, and they come at us four abreast. The others hold the door, while I stand back and cast spells (There is not quite enough room for me to be in the doorway as well, and I wouldn’t want to deprive the Paladins of their chance for a glorious death would I?) The ghouls fall rather rapidly, and the first Paladin moves in.

He turns to his left and sees more movement. Having slightly more in the way of subtlety than either of the barbarians decides to see what it is before killing it. He has a look, and then he utters an oath. (A very mild one, he is a paladin after all – by Bristlebane’s beard is probably as racy as they get!) He announces that it is (or at least appears to be) one of the pussy cats from the moon. And a female one to boot! I hang back, while the Paladin attempts to remove the chains and then yells for Duncan’s assistance. When they are both there, it doesn’t take them long to get her free.

She seems overcome by the shame of her capture, but eventually relates that her name is T’pow and she is a warrior. (How it is spelt is really irrelevant, as Va’shir do not apparently read or write, which just makes them Northmen with slightly more (or in the case of Brand, slightly less) fur. Her captors did not take her weapons or armor, and she is still relatively healthy.

We head on, with Brand and T’pow talking weapons. I am not entirely sure how she reacted to Brand’s comments of “Dis shiny and do damage” and “Dis just lump of metal” but I could not stand the scintillating conversation, and so headed forward to join Duncan.

We had entered what appeared to be a cave. There were bones (most of them half gnawed, so this was obviously where the ghouls came from) and general detritus all over the floor. There were also piles of brown sticky goo that coated the walls and floor. Where the clear floor was visible, it was a black and white chessboard pattern. Duncan, having heard the same stories I had of this always meaning traps, was very cautious as he moved forward. No traps however were set off, and we continued along the cave.

The cave continued in much the same way, icky goo everywhere, but only more so. It opened up again, and this time the substance had been used to stick rags and stuff to the walls. Being cautious, I stuck one of my remaining fire arrows into a heap of rags, and apart from a brief flame and some light nothing happened. We moved on.

The party was now strung out, and it seems that the ghouls thought they stood a better chance as we were apart. A ghoul dropped by Duncan, and I could hear that one had dropped amongst the party behind. I moved forward and attacked this one, managing to keep my footing, as the goo was slippery. My skeleton was not so lucky and ended up face down, as a ghoul jumped on him. We made short work of the ones in front of us, and turned just in time to see Brand slide across the muck and into the one on my pet, dislodging it. Brand assured that was what he meant to do, though the streaks of crud all over him spoke volumes that he didn’t. Maybe this would persuade him to have a bath? He strenuously objects to the suggestion, but it may help.

These ghouls had nothing on them, and we carried on. The cave narrowed to a doorway, beyond which were the remains of a large cavernous hall. Murals decorated the walls, and the bulk of the room was intact. Duncan, still in front, walked in, and was buffeted by a screaming wind. A huge bat shaped creature was perched on a balcony, and was attacking him.

What followed was a battle that seemed to last an age. The bat creature seemed immune to arrows and my spells. I could do it no damage, and neither could Brand or T’pow. The only one who could was Duncan and his wolf. The paladins quickly fell into a rhythm of healing Duncan, keeping him alive as he scratched the creature. Brand and T’pow decided to ground the bat and it took all of us either hanging onto its legs or the rope that Brand had attached to himself as he grabbed hold of a leg, to bring the creature to the ground. It took a great effort to kill this creature, and expended my harm touch, a lot of my manna, all of the Paladins and all of Duncan’s. We needed to rest. We claimed onto the balcony, where we found a few largely useless items (a lute, an empty book – a totem, and a veil – which at least covers Brand’s face when he wears it) and a door (behind which we could hear laughter, but nothing hostile.) We rested here for about three and a half hours, meditating and recovering manna.

I had just about recovered all my manna, and was scribbling some notes when Brand disturbed me, pointing out a figure that was casting a spell at the remains of the bat. I wasted no time in sticking an arrow into the creature. I didn’t want to fight the bat again! Neither it seemed did the others and we quickly piled in, killing the creature – a ghoul magus – his skeletal pet and the now zombie bat. We returned to the landing, just in time to hear the door click shut.

380 (Continued)

Once again, Duncan and Brand demonstrate the famed subtlety of those from the north. Faced with a locked door, they shoulder charge it.

Inside the room, sat on what once could well have be called luxurious furniture (and is now little more than tattered rags) are three dark eleven women. They try small talk (On this group? Hah!) most of which I filter out, but they do tell me something useful, if disturbing. The mummy we killed earlier on was the author of the journal. Bugger! Several other words tumble through my mind at that revelation, most of which are considerably less polite (and some of them must have escaped my lips as both paladins stare at me. Like I care about their approval!)

Of course, it is not long before Duncan and the other charge in and start hitting things. I am surprised that it took him as long as it did to be honest, but there you go! Perhaps he has a weakness for small talk? If he had waited a little bit longer, I could have warned him what these creatures actually were, but, he didn’t, so well, I didn’t.

As a result the will sappers (A type of vampire I think) manage to do them some serious damage, drawing away some of the willpower from both Brand and Duncan. (If it had been intelligence, then the creatures would have been in real trouble! Neither Brand or Duncan have any intelligence to steal!)

Unfortunately, this battle draws the attention of something else. From a large crack in the wall, ghouls issue forth, and charge us. We fight them off, and soon they too lie dead around us. We head into the crack in the wall. With the exception of a dead body, with one useful item on it (a belt that increases intelligence, something far more useful to me I think, after all, it would be a waste on any of the others!) the tunnel is bland and boring, and simply leads into a barracks. The beds are intact, and we need to rest, so we do. I suggest that those who do not need to rest and med help keep our retreat covered. One of the paladins does so, heading off to help the Shaman.

Day 382

It must be that by now.

My skeleton has filled the box (which appears to be larger on the inside than out) with the tapestries from this room. I feel better for eight hours sleep, and a few hours meditating and studying one of the spell books I have retrieved. I manage to learn the spell Heat Blood before we have to move on. We head out of the room, and discover that we are at the far end of the great hall. There is a door ahead of us and we head through it. We are confronted by what appears to be a guard commander for this area. We manage to defeat it and unfortunately, despite my best efforts, one of the paladins claims his unholy armour. (Anything that is dedicated to the thrice dammed Marrs is unholy!) The rest of the room is empty and useless, so we head back out.

And discover that the (smudged word) bat is back AGAIN!

Once again we kill it, and this time I take the head with me, try to resurrect yourself now furball!

We head off to check the rest of the complex. The Paladin comes back from upstairs, and T’pow (The name has to be an approximation, they have never developed a written language) heads off to join the Shaman.

The first room we check is in fact a corridor. Hovering in the corridor is a rather chatty demon. It doesn’t want to be there and it tells us all sorts of things, like the fact it is guarding a library. (At last we have it! The book must be beyond the demon!) and a pile of treasure (It points out several chests, full of money and items.) He also says that beyond him is his master and his workshop. His master is the ghoul magus we have already killed once. (So, he will be fully hale and hearty no doubt. Does nothing stay dead here?!) The demon then goes on to explain how to kill everyone in the place, and then it tells us of the existence of secret door somewhere in the northern part of the complex, while begging us to attack it. Of course, the others don’t want to, despite my repeated protestations (which only draws a comment from brand that he needs a book to wipe his backside) so they shut the door and head off. Fools. Ignorant useless, moronic fools!

The next room we investigate is the last clearly obvious door. Of course, as such they reckon this must be wear the secret passage is. What logic they posses! I marvel at their deductive reasoning! Gah!

The room seems to be built around two large steaming vats in it. They dominate the room, standing in the centre, surrounded by a wooden stage. Underneath are piles of kindling. Maybe this would once have been the room that powered the heating for this place. (I have heard of such gnomic inventions, and I consider them civilized. My barbarian friends however refuse to understand the concept. They seem to think that in order to think you require your extremities to be blue and falling off. Personally, I think that it requires a lot more than that to make a barbarian think!)

Duncan of course, employs plan 1 (of 1) and heads in. To my total un-astonishment, something icky in one of the vats gobs at him and destroys some of his items, including his Uluk. He retreats and we have to find another way to deal with the things (or rather I do, as this situation clearly requires thought, something that none of the others is qualified to do.) I first of all think of freezing them out, then, noticing the vats have kindling underneath, I decided to set fire to that.

That works. The creature comes barreling out of the vat, and me and brand scythe it down with arrows. We repeat the procedure with the other. Then, for good measure, we search the room and tip over the vats. No secret door at all. After half an hour of searching in there, we search in the corridor, and discover the secret door there!

Inside is what appears to be an old meeting place, with a throne of sorts in the middle. There are also lots of little balls of light, which attack us. They prove to be little more than a nuisance.  It is the chair that proves to be more problematic. It is galling to be injured by furniture, but I will put forward mitigating circumstances. I moved closer to the chair, or more accurately throne, and started to study it. I barely had time to examine the manacles, before Brand pushes me forward. This is a slight that will be remembered, and he will pay for it.

The chair comes alive and attacks me, chaining me to it, and draining my manna. Finally with the assistance of Duncan, the chain is broken off the chair, but the manacles remain attached to my wrists and ankles. I head off to find the boy and see if he can work some of his skills.

The boy is sat outside, talking to the Shaman and T’pow and they all find it highly amusing. This will magnify Brand’s punishment!

The boy finally manages to open one of the locks. Now that I can see them in the light, the metal itself is interesting and may be worth something. I shall have to investigate this when I return to Freeport.

I head back to discover the others sat around, they have searched the room, and the other paladin has a new weapon, a huge magical spear.

We investigate the room more fully and come across a strange form of undead that drains the life force from Brand and Duncan and seems to sap some of their skills and abilities. They are not having much luck are they? Oh well, it is what they are there for, to provide a buffer between the important people and nasty creatures. We defeat the creature (I am still unsure if it is a shade or a spectre, I shall have to study more to try and remember the difference.) and then we head back into the bigger hall.

There is only one other room off here, and here steps lead down. In a small alcove off these steps is an elf, chained to the wall and obviously undead. Duncan releases him, and then kills him. I wonder if he realizes that things just don’t stay dead in this place – if he doesn’t, maybe I should remind him about the Marr cursed bat! I haven’t forgotten it! It is almost impossible to do so as a matter of fact! Blasted thing! It will probably be back there now when we leave this room Even though it’s head is in the room with the acid blobs. Knowing my recent luck, we will have to face two of the creatures! Never mind, at least Duncan has freed something.

We head down the stairs, stopping when Duncan and Brand spot some bones, which appear to be hovering in mid air. Of course, it does not take Duncan look to put into effect his plan for dealing with each and every situation, and he charges forward and hits it. The end result however is not pretty. His weapon – the one with the stupid sounding name that had survived the earlier encounter with acid, disappears. It seems he had stuck it into an acid cube. Oops.

Fortunately, I remembered how we dealt with the last acid cube we met – back in the shissar dungeon in the desert, and I fling a lit flask of oil at it. It is soon dead. Duncan is just distraught, and, as is his wont, wishes to ease his suffering by killing something. That is a good plan – unfortunately, he wishes to kill something that is big and tough. I have always found that killing lots of weak creatures has much more effect on my moods.

Now, they decide to attack the demon. My mind boggles! Of course, Duncan, bereft of his primary weapons, does no damage, and within seconds the creature has dropped Duncan, Brand and one of the Paladins. I am faced with a choice, only one of the cursed Marr worshipping fools is alive, I could kill him now. If I had my manna, and was fully hale and hearty, then I would do so, but I have no manna and am carrying some wounds.

I decide, reluctantly, to leave them alive for now.

Still we are in no position now to fight on, Duncan has lost his weapons and items, and we can not harm the creature that is guarding the way forward, we need to retreat, recuperate and recover. We support the others, half dragging them even, to the exit and we leave behind this place for now. We need to return to Freeport and train.

Day 383

We are traveling back now, and the paladin’s horses are annoying me, the creatures smell foul, and their aura is nauseating. On A few occasions we see people in the distance, but they seem to avoid us. Hardly surprising though is it? Three heavily armored Barbarians, four humans and two horses.

Of course, such things mean little excitement. Gah! I do notice however Duncan talking earnestly with the paladins. I have no interest in whatever it is they are talking about however.

Day 390

Days of traveling punctured only by occasional arguments over theology between the Shaman (and sometimes Duncan) and the paladins is not my idea of a good time. (It doesn’t seem to agree with Brand either for that matter and for once he seemed to get a bit of hectoring.) I stayed out of it.

Day 400

For the first time in a while, we make an inn. Of course, everyone is surprised by the horses. (If they had to walk around with the things, they would not be so happy to see them.) But at least I can get a bath now and some decent food. Well, I can at least try with these manacles still attached to my wrists.

Day 410

Back in Freeport at last. The others leave me to my own devices, which I take to be a good thing as I have much to do. I need to speak to the church of the dismal rage, and explain that I couldn’t find the book. But first I think I need to pay a visit to the thieves’ guild and get these blasted manacles removed.

That takes longer than I expected, and when it is finally done I am able to sell them off. It seems I was right, and that the metal is interesting. While they are removing the manacles, I receive strange looks when talking about befallen, and I am told that they hope I have not upset the balance too much.

Then, after selling off some items, I speak to the church. They seem to think that the book should have been in the library on the first floor. I am unsure about that, and say so. They agree after much discussion. They also ask me however if I had seen any rings anywhere in Befallen. Of course, I had, but Brand had many of them, and I direct them to him. Other than that I get the feeling however that they think they have more important things to do, so I go and report upstairs.

Days 411

The wonder of a decent bed is not to be underestimated. I slept well last night, and it makes a change from the damp and cold of the open road. I feel somewhat refreshed. The morning I spent learning spells, so that I can someone more powerful allies and protect them, but perhaps more importantly so that I can better heal myself. However of the others there is no sign. Not even Brand. Apparently he spent some time in the church with the Knights of truth, from what others tell me, they think he was receiving healing.

Never mind, I have much training to do. I spend a few days learning how to focus my mind in combat, so that I can injure myself to the distractions and better cast spells. There seem to be a few wizards and others there for this training and I seem the odd one out.

Day 414

Having learnt how to cast spells in the thick of combat, and having spent time with wizards, and other intelligent peoples (Alright, there was a Paladin and a cleric there too.) But now I am with warriors (And possibly a few thieves. I am sure I catch the boy having quick gestured based conversations with a few of them) I am learning now how to make the most of opportunities in combat.

Day 417

The others have finished their training, but want to head to the moon to get better weapons. Of course, the problem there is money, or rather the extreme lack of it. My spells are costing a fortune. I simply want to get some money. (Preferably by picking it off the corpse of, say a paladin or cleric.) Sadly such an option is not available. Then I am presented with an alternative. Of course, as is usual with Duncan, it involves working with the opposition. It seems that there is much kerfuffle going on with the city at the moment. (Perhaps the important things that seemed to be on the mind of the others earlier?) A cleric of Marr explains to us the problems. It seems that Lucan of the militia has decided that Freeport was a city built by a human, for humans and therefore everyone and everything else must leave. They are worried about this. However they have something of a way out. A book or more accurately a journal has been found, this belongs to the high elf they think founded the city. (Yet another book at the same time?  How fortunate. Synchronicity) Of course it is not in their possession (Or indeed for that matter on this continent.) All they have is an intercepted message that indicates that the tomb of the high elf (His name is atalanata or something similar, I can not speak elven) has been discovered on Fawdyer. They want us to go and retrieve it – no money of course, but they are willing to send Brand and Duncan to the moon first. They jump at the quest to Fawdyer and I decide to go with them – but not for the reasons they think. They will head to the bazaar on the moon, while I will wait here, out of money, for them when they return.

As soon as the others have headed for the moon, I head downstairs. Why are the knights of truth so worried about an attempt to throw non humans out of the city? They, while weakened perhaps, will still exist. It is clearly not a move against them, but a move against the undercity, which of course, will be almost completely destroyed by such a move. It seems I am right not to trust the militia. Their involvement in the desert is obvious to all who saw it (except Duncan of course, on times that man is far too trusting.) Sadly, he seems to have been infected by Heulwyn’s mob.

The church (The proper church that is) are grateful for the information that I pass on, and their wish is simple. I am to head off with the others and make sure that they do not succeed in passing the book to the knights of truth. I do not need to bring it back myself, but instead make sure that remains in the hands of those who already have it. I am to slow the party down and buy time for those working there already.

As I leave the church, I think I catch a brief glimpse of a book floating in mid air. Interesting.

Day 418

The day dawns bright and clear, and almost before we know it, we are on a different continent. The Paladins are remaining in the city for the time being, so we once again have the joy of the company of Heulwyn.

We are to head into an area of hills and shale. We have arrived however a few days out, and must head north to get to the area in question.

That night we stop at a dwarven building, for they seem to be the dominant peoples here and they give us a little more information regarding the lay of the land. It seems the main problem they have here are goblins.

Day 419 

We spent the day traveling without much trouble. The dwarves at the way station tell us more about the goblins in the area and how prevalent they are. I try and persuade the others that we should help the dwarves and kill some goblins. I cloak it in a desire for bloodshed, which Brand agrees with. The others resist for now.

Day 420

It is another boring day of traveling, punctured only by arguments over whether we should go and kill some goblins. We do not reach the conclusion I want that day, but over the evening meal, we finally decide that we should see what we find on the road.

Day 421

Fortunately, Duncan finds goblin tracks and we follow them, heading east (and doing exactly what I wanted – heading away from the north) We track them for the rest of the day, and finally we camp at night. Our plan, such as it is, is to be highly visible in our camp, and draw them towards us, and into an ambush. We see a big fire in the distance, but no goblins, after a few hours we decide to catch some sleep each.

Day 422

When we wake, Brand reports that the fire went out on his watch. Well, actually he says he never saw it, so I am assuming it went out. Duncan thinks we should head back, but I think we should investigate the fire. After much discussion I carry the day. We investigate the fire, and discover goblins had been here, but not in the way I had thought. It seems that the fire had been set by dwarves. A Lighthouse of some description possibly, and the goblins had been on their way to attack and kill the goblin keepers. They had even roasted some of the dwarves. I suggest to the others that we should have investigated last night? The response is not positive; in fact I am sure that Duncan was swearing at me.

Being as we can now see the port of Fawdyer not that far away, I suggest that we go and report this to them. We can also take the benefits of decent beds in an inn. I finally carry that argument, and we head there, arriving late in the evening.

I enjoy the evening in the inn, a proper sized (and comfortable) bed. Dwarves seem to want to sleep on stone for some reason, at least elves understand the concept of a mattress. Duncan using intelligence I did not know he had (I shall have to watch him more carefully it seems) starts enquiring about people arriving here. He discovers that a ship did come this way from Freeport, and the authorities were not happy about it. They, it seemed tried to stop everyone from disembarking, but something invisible seemed to compel them to let the people off. They were not happy. Duncan thinks it is a version of the invisibility spell but I know better.

Day 423

We head to the authorities to report the problems on the mountaintop. They thank us (though give us no reward) and tell us that it is the third time this month that the goblins have attacked that outpost. We set off back.

Day 424

No sign of goblins. They seem to be avoiding us.

Day 425

Still no sign of goblins, as we return from our little side trip. While it was a useful distraction, and that at least served its purpose, we did not get to kill anything. Never mind.

Day 427

The road to the north begins to peter out. Ahead of us is a blasted land of sand and shale. I try using the compass I bought so long ago from the gnome. The needle simply spins wildly out of control. I hand it to the others, wondering if, once again, it is my metal armor that is causing this, and discover that it does not appear to be. It seems we shall have to find true north on our own. We camp outside the area tonight and vow to head in tomorrow.

Day 428

The treacherous nature of this land soon becomes apparent. Apart from the difficultly in keeping our feet, something which Brand and I notice rather rapidly, it seems the ground shifts and moves alarmingly. Twice I am thrown onto my back by the shifting shale, and then the whole party is pitched into a crevice as the ground suddenly opens beneath us. It takes us an hour to get out, battered and bruised. I resolve then to not where my metal armor in this environment, as it hinders my movement too much, and makes me too heavy and cumbersome. We struggle on.

Day 429

I thought the desert was bad. This place is much worse. At least in the desert you could rely on the ground to stay still under your feet, here it pitches and yaws more than a ship under sale. Twice during the night I felt the rumble of nearby earthquakes and heard shifting shale (Once I think there were possibly screams mixed in with the sound of slipping shale.)

The day was not much better. We managed to avoid a couple more sudden ground slips, though we did tumble down a shale slope, but the land had obviously decided to play even more tricks on and with us. Around midday (at least, as near as I could judge the passage of time) there was an eruption of shale and a pyramid burst from the ground like a geyser. We spent a while examining it, but did not find a way in.

Then mist descended on us, a billowing fog that blanketed the land covering us all in a think blanket of silence.

It was only by luck that we found somewhere to camp (I am sure that this too, had only burst out of the ground moments before.)

Day 430

Our night was much the same as the night before, our sleep fitful, and our dreams troubled. Some of the others claimed to hear thumping and crashing for the ground itself. I did not hear anything of the sort.

In the morning, as we left the rock shelf we had camped on I could see crack in the solid rock below. I saw immediately another opportunity to delay them and took the opportunity.

The cracks were big enough for a man to pass, so I claimed that I saw movement in them. It drew the others in. The first crack led them us into what had once been an ornate tomb. It had already been opened however. There were frescos and freezes – once vibrant – now faded and worn. Pottery, obviously designed to hold jewellery and trinkets lay smashed on the ground and the sarcophagus itself had been wrenched open and defiled. Everything here had been looted and damp had seeped into every corner, fungus and mould had taken hold. The second crack was simply a dead end, as was the fourth.

The third was like the first, a looted tomb, already open to the elements, and already empty and damp. The fifth however had taken the most damage. It was clear that the water than had seeped into the other two tombs had started here, doing more damage to this tomb than the others. There was a veritable forest of stalagmites and stalactites and the faded runes that we had seen on other tombs had been obliterated here. As Brand went into examine this there was a sudden rumble and a gout of steam shot out from the floor, almost catching him. It would have been the second time he would have been steam cleaned, and he could have done with it. That however persuaded everyone to leave this place.

We had found nothing, but I regarded the day as well spent.

Day 432

The desert would be welcome now. It might be hot, but at least there you didn’t get the impression that the landscape itself was conspiring against you. We have been traveling now for two days, but seem to have got nowhere. I think we may have been going in circles, for all I know we have been, with the land changing around us as we go. Every so often the fog descends, and we can see nothing beyond our noses.

Day 434

As the mist started to clear, at the end of the day I saw that we had discovered something new. Ahead of us was a fortified camp. Duncan, once again displaying his legendary subtlety, simply yelled up at the guard he could half see.

It was Heulwyn that managed to prevent him killing himself this time.  That was a pity.

As guards approached us Heulwyn’s eyes widened with shock and he quickly whispered in Duncan’s ear. Duncan needed to control his irrational hatred of dark elves, otherwise it would be his death. (And probably all of our deaths.) Six of them were coming our way. They of course thought I was the group’s leader (an idea I was not going to discourage) and treated me with civility and respect (Something which I was not used to traveling for so long with the group.) It seems that the only reason they had not attacked Duncan and co on sight was because of my presence. Hah!

We got a night in reasonably civilized conditions. True the camp was still incredibly makeshift and could be struck rapidly and replaced elsewhere, but a canvas tavern is a still a tavern, and is still more companionable than a night in cold mist. I chat with many of the dark elves and get some rumours and information. Some of if it is useful, and some of it tells me what to expect. I decide not to tell the others, or to deliberately mislead them if I can. The useful information, which I do pass on in full, is that every tomb in these hills is supposedly linked. Everything else I keep to myself.

Duncan also attempts to gather some information, and he obtains some success as well. Unfortunately, he discovers something that I didn’t want him too, the story of a giant acting as a guard. I spin him the story that this giant is guarding a different tomb, and he seemed to buy it. However he also appears to have been handed a loadstone. Quite why they wanted to give him the loadstone I don’t know.

Day 435

In the morning we headed off, following the loadstone in Duncan’s hands. We headed north, still moving among the gravel and shale.  The mist returned, carpeting the world in white again. Around midday (As near as I can judge such concepts) Duncan’s wolf (I believe Duncan has called him Gwyn – which I think is Northman for White or something similar.) started to growl and then to whimper and then suddenly we were beset.

These were strange creatures. At the time all I could see was fur claws and teeth, which moved in a blinding flash. Not only did they not seem to take much damage when I hit them, they seemed to be immune to spells as well. We did finally beat them, but it took a lot of effort. The corpses revealed little about what they were, though they did seem to be some sort of werewolf with undead tendencies mixed in. There didn’t seem to be anything valuable on them, and we left the bodies where they had fallen. We needed to rest for a while, to recover and be healed.

As we rested, the mist began to fade. Maybe these creatures had something to do with it? There are persistent rumors of creatures with just that sort of ability and power, so maybe these creatures could? Or maybe they worked for something, as some sort of hound?

As we headed off, Duncan and Gwyn discovered tracks. They were small tracks, smaller than a gnome’s. They seemed to be going in our general direction, so there was nothing to lose by following them. Before long we came across a low shrub, which had the remains of a small cloak on it. Obviously we seemed to be heading into a more stable area of these blasted lands, as I could now see other shrubs and trees amongst the shale. I could also see some rock outcrops.

We followed these tracks for the rest of the day, until they disappeared into a crack in the rock outcropping. Of course Duncan decided to shout into the rock very loudly. His cry of hello echoed around and about, from a wide variety of cracks and crevices. Bang goes our chance of surprise!

It is now close to dark however, and we camp nearby on a nearby rock shelf and wait.

Day 435 (Or rather night)

That was an interesting evening to be sure. All that I saw on my watch was what Duncan pointed out, a sudden shower of objects from the crack in the rock, and the occasional muffled cackle and laugh, but it seems that the little fellow was a lot more active than that. When we wake Brand for his watch, bits of his armor are missing. It takes us a while to find his gauntlet, which is on a rock a little way away, the middle digit extended in the air in a rude salute. Brand goes to put it on, and when he does so, he notices a rank smell. It must have been strong for him to notice.

It seems the little fellow hadn’t stopped with putting the gauntlet into a rude gesture. He had also pissed in the gauntlet (and it seemed, inscribed something in some strange language onto the gauntlet) Brand spent most of the rest of the night scrubbing his gauntlet out. As I went to sleep, all I could hear was the sound of muffled Northman swearing. I am not sure if it was the insult of having his armor peed in, or the proximity to soap that was causing the consternation.

Day 436

Brand was still annoyed over his gauntlets at daybreak, and was earnestly chatting with Duncan about the possibility of getting Duncan to chisel out the offending runes. Duncan tried, but it seemed that they were magically imparted, as they came back as visible as ever. I wonder what language it was written in, and how rude it really was. I wondered also if I should tell Brand that the runes meant that he could sell the gauntlets off to a dumb warrior for a lot more than they were worth as he could claim they were highly magical.

We headed back to the crack in the rock. At first we simply looked to see what was in the rain of objects. We found some interesting items. There was a drinking horn that seemed to turn water into holy water of Quellious, a few old coins and a weeping eye pendent. This turned out to have the power to cast an illusion of a goblin on the wearer.

Now, we were left with problem, we needed to get inside the rock face. Manual labor was required. We had to dig out the gravel and shale from around the crack to enable us to get in. It was hard and heavy work, made harder and heavier by the failure of the boy to lend us his shovel. By the end of the evening, we had only managed to get half way in. We blocked up the hole, as best we could and camped there for the night. The only disturbance was a brief series of bangs and thumps on the stones we had used to block up the hole and a few muffled words, obviously curses in some strange language

Day 437

More digging and yet more heavy lifting and moving, oh joy! My armor and weapons stay in my pack, as a combination of dust and sweat makes my day a misery. It is fortunate the Heulwyn can create water, so that I can remove at least some of the grime. We finish clearing the way in at late afternoon. Ahead is a step, leading down. After a quick rinse, I don my leather armor and grab sword and shield to move forward and down.

We come out into a corridor. Ahead is a door, with a series symbols I half recognize on it, and what appears to be a triangular locking mechanism. The door however, like much around here, shows signs of age and disrepair. There is a crack that runs across the top. It is small and obviously how our little friend was getting in and out.

Suddenly there is a commotion behind the door. We hear squealing and a series of regular heavy thuds. Our little antagonist appears, trying to squeeze out of the crack. His eyes widen as he sees us, and he seems to pause a second, almost as if he is considering what to do next. The moment of indecision costs him his life, as something smashed into him. There is a squishing noise, and the creature falls dead. (It would be hard for anyone to come to any other conclusion – even Brand. Half of the creature’s body is missing.) The regular thumping noise recedes from behind the door. We decide, with some subtle prompting from me, to wait until the morning to investigate the rest of this place.

Day 438

Upon getting a closer look at the symbols, I see what they are. Shissar. This is interesting. It takes us a while to open the door. The lock is not a simple mechanical device, but rather a very complicated three part magical one. It takes us a good 4 hours to finally crack the combination (and then it seems to be done by luck rather than judgment.) Inside is another corridor, which leads to another door. In front of that door is a huge stone statue of some kind (I guess immediately that it is a golem of some kind and it is, in all probability, what killed the little creature.) So, first things first, we need to neutralize it. I fire an arrow, which causes the creature to start moving. It gets to us and after a brief and brutal tussle, we manage to shatter it into rocks.

Down the length of the corridor are six chests. The first three are open, the last three aren’t. They have the same sort of lock as the door, and it takes us a fair while to open each one. It the same principle as the lock on the door, and it is opened in the same way. Blind luck. It takes us the rest of the day, but we do get some nice items. All in all, with the addition of some money, we find an undead cloak, a ring, a shield and a Lance. The cloak which seems to be the best item for me is in fact the weakest of the lot. The shield appears to do something with manna regeneration, and the lance is a powerful weapon. The ring, I am not sure about, though the others seem happy with it. Now, we are left with a large door. The lock on this door is more complicated, and instead of a singular tripartite lock there are two of them. By now, however we are tired and decide to rest before opening that door.

Day 439

This lock is way more problematic than the others. Not only is the luck more complicated, but it is also trapped. Each failure releases a bolt of lightening into the hands of whoever is fiddling with it. The boy tries a few times and is healed by Heulwyn, before turning it over to Brand. Brand seems to be simply doing things at random. (Actually he must be, he wouldn’t have the brains to do anything else.) Heulwyn is grasping the shield that regenerates his manna at a faster rate, and healing Brand after each failure. After every fourth attempt, there is a little pause, and then the cycle starts again. I watch for a while, and then decide to try my own hand. It is dismal failure, and I decide to head outside for fresh air to counter the boredom. I do hear a few cries of Eureka, followed by the crackle of lightening and the smell of sizzling flesh and scorched hair. This goes on for a long time. Finally, after what was literally hours, the door opens. I don’t know if we hit the right combination, the trap ran out, or the door simply lost the will to live. Like the previous doors, it slid into the ground, and we were faced with a room beyond. In the centre of the room was a coffin. We need to rest before we even consider going any further. The room is obviously trapped. (As if the pattern on the floor doesn’t give it away, the crackling from the lightening that is arcing between two huge globes hanging from the ceiling gives it away.)

I send the skeleton in to see what exactly the trap does. He gets lightening bolted to bits. I sit and switch spells, calling forth the smallest possible pet and sending him in, to try and work out the trap. He goes boom. I use all my manna up in this pattern, and while I sit and meditate, Brand throws stones. After an hour (Both meditating and holding the shield) we try again. We get no further. After a few hours of this, I give up and while thinking opt to try Brand’s method and throw stones into the room. This proves to be a mistake. As I hurl one of the stones, I overbalance and stumble into the room. I see the lightening bolt arch towards me.

It is a misconception that your life flashes before your eyes as you are about to die. All that I relived, all that I remembered what was I had left unfinished, what I regretted having not done, or what I regretted having done. I saw every opportunity I had to kill that blasted cleric, and every opportunity I had to increase my power. All of that flashed before my eyes. Everything else did not. There are people who would now be most upset that I did not remember them as I was about to die. And, if I see some of them again, I would be glad to tell them of that – final - insult.

Then it was black, a rushing tunnel of blackness, leading me down. Of course, the blasted cleric then yanked me back towards the light, pulling me back to the land of living.

I have spent the last few hours recovering and meditating and writing this. The intellectual giants that are Duncan and Brand are still trying to work out the trap. They now seem to think it has something to do with threes. (I was probably unconscious when Duncan explained the concept of the number three to Brand.) When I finally feel like it, which is a good deal later than the others would like, I summon another pet. This Duncan manages to direct to the tomb. Now, it just requires one of us to head in and open it. Duncan heads in, and gets to the tomb. When he opens it, the room is bathed in a blue glow. It seems the only thing in there is a staff. It is a big, glowing staff, which perhaps would seem to be impressive (to those easily impressed.) After a few minutes, Duncan says something strange – yes, even more strange than usual – that the light is made up of lots of small wriggling blue snakes. After a few minutes, I notice that he is, in fact, right, which is weird. (In many respects)

We all try to work out what the staff does for a while. The glow doesn’t change until we give it to Brand – at which point the light goes out (appropriate somehow.) Of course, I am the one who works it out – it seems to act as a manna battery. I feel a slight tingle as a cast a spell but nothing else, and my manna remains untapped. Hum, interesting.

Heulwyn ends up holding it, while I have the ring.

With that, we head back to our camp outside, and rest.

Day 440

We travel on. The tomb was a profitable and useful diversion. Now we are back among the shifting gravel.

Day 441

Duncan suddenly spotted something up ahead around noon. It seems there was a group of orcs, heading in the direction we want to go. From the tracks Duncan assures me they are heavily laden. We stop several times to watch them, using the telescope I got from the gnome in Freeport – that is, we do until Brand drops it. That’s 1000 gold pieces he owes me! What Duncan does spot, before Brand drops the telescope is the presence of one of the books. I am, of course, not surprised by this, but I do manage to convince the others I am. We agree, after a discussion, to follow the orcs, as the others (despite my efforts to convince them otherwise) seem to be convinced that they are heading for our destination.

Day 442