Session 4: Of Kruug's Adventure; Merciful returns; and Keys in the Dark
"You measure men by how much they will pay for their lives when war arrives. Step right up ladies and gentlemen. The strong will sell the meek to each other in order to book passage out of town. The meek will thank them for doing so. And with that we we christen the Adbar Express - a horse-drawn wagon borrowed on the credit of childish hopes and underwritten in knife and greed. For thems that can afford: the pillowy dreams of a downy tomorrow. For us, a belly full of gold and many more things for the orcs to shoot at." - from the journals of Pip Helix.
Though our group is fitted with a scout, we leave our recon to the priest, Kruug - a difficult character of slippery intent. As we finished surveying the carnage that lay at our feet before Sundabar, we could almost hear the roaring hell that crowed from over the foothills beyond.
Kruug offered to head into what would surely be the deepest orc country yet. And off he set to get word to Sundabar if possible. Perhaps one could succeed where the five of us would be lame on horse? Arkwood gathered himself into a nearby Poplar tree and watched the witch steal off to the horizon.
Walking with a most obvious cant of a labored orog warrior, Kruug had disguised himself with arcane trickery to fool the eyes of the enemy. He lumbered through a boxy gulch within a mile of Sundabar. Orc siege towers lay dotting the landscape and rich pavillons with orog harems and tents adorned with horns stood planted in the ruined eaves of a once fertile forest. His approach gathers a welcome by a horn. From crevices and corners round a squad of orcs who bar his progress. One confronts him.
A simple exchange fools the timid guard into escorting him through the barracks in order to depose him. Kruug's soft steps and canny resolve drift his walk and twists his direction. He blends and murmurs through the orc crowd. Nearer and nearer he makes his way to the final road up to Sundabar. His escort has followed him through the crowd and yet at the last moment, Kruug twists his hand and a letting free a sprinkle of fey dust and crushed dragonfly wings... the air swallows him up Kruug and is gone: there but unseen. Walking into thin air he arrives unmolested at the city gates. His magic veil is quickly dropped and the world is awakened to him again.
The city guards seeing a human man once more, somehow incredulously escort him in. Inside the walled city, Kruug met with the city's leaders. Sealed messages were exchanged and he was quickly escorted a secret passage that would take him well outside the city.
an orchish skirmish on our way back to Newfort
Well into the night, Kruug finds his way through cursed thicket and rotten bower to the spot where his comrades awaited. All had tried to sleep but the constant march of the orc/orog war machine had made sleeping impossible. Shortly before dawn, some huge wooden and iron siege machine was escorted through the valley by hundreds of orcs. Orcs marching in formation - such madness.
With nothing to gain by staying so close to Sundabar and the mounting orcish efforts, the group makes haste for Newfort with the response from Sundabar in hand and the end of their cursed contract. The weather is brilliant and merciful as the miles fall rapidly under hoof. A day goes by with little report. The second day is met by the call of barks and orcish gibberish over the hill. Our scout, Denton, reports a large party of about eighty orcs coming towards us on the main road. We manage a small copse about 100 yards off the path but are finally spotted by one of the orcs. A horn cries out and packs of them are sent into the hillside after us.
Thankfully, we manage a small cave with enough foliage that Arkwood and Pip can dress the opening with further disguise. Still the gray army clambers the woods in our direction. Fearing detection, Kruug volunteers himself as a rabbit. Off he charges into a loud underbrush. He tugs at his ear, rubbing some mouse oil and crumbling a pinch of fire barley and suddenly the sound of thundering horse hooves can be heard on every of his footfall. This stampede of Kruug leads the army away from our warren and off to the distance.
Soon the orcs are exhausted and confused. Whatever they had once seen is clearly no more. Some arguing breaks out between clarion and corporal. That brutish barking is heard as far as our secret den. Minutes pass and the heavy steps and broken armor can be heard stamping once again further to the West.
Fine weather and haste quickly gives way to the tiny town of Newfort. We are eagerly given access through the gate where stable boys tend to our horses and the city council soon resurrect themselves. Again we are assembled in a wealthy merchant's home with healthy libation and general cheer. Unfortunately the news from Sundabar is not so good. Whatever poorly the document tells, our stories of the orc army and the battle scars we carry further diminish the spirits. The townsmen, deflated, thank us again and dismiss us as they talk in hushed tones about how to deal with the creeping threat.
Our good deeds and heroic stories are enough to buy us stout Augur beer and the finest elven wine. The simple folk of Newfort are anxious to hear our stories and how the hordes were batted back from their door. Never before have you seen less worthy heroes - though the accolades be true.
The murmuring through Newfort raises to a steady drone as the townspeople talk of a need to flee the city, from a certain death that can only be days away. Mercifully, we agree to escort as many as we can to Citadel Adbar, but first we must make a half day trip to a cache in the hills where the local militia stores some armory. Though our hearts are big, our wagon will only hold eight. Still, we agree to take twelve. If only it could have been more. Yes, if only it could have been more.
things buried too long under the hills outside Newfort
We've marched the better part of the day to the militia depot, escorting the men of Newfort. Thereafter, we move on with a map provided by the townspeople - additional thanks as it were for all of our efforts on their behalf. It takes an hour for us to find the door guarding the cavern. Some fancy contraption at the base of the hill hides a lever which opens the long shut door.
Down slides a seamless piece of mountain and a large open maw leads us into promises of treasure. A steep slope leads us down cautiously. A few pitons lodging the door open; and one for us to fasten a rope. Soon, it darkens too much even for good elven eyes. Arkwood pulls open the bag at his side and out crawls a small bat. He then spits on the thing and then soon after it crackles with light. The small winged creature flutters forward describing the cavern in gibbering light.
The floor soon enough levels out but chittering is heard in the darkness. Down a Southern passage, we see a large centipede with massive tentacles come scurrying forth. We attack in mass, but the menace charges and its spicy arms flange out as the beast reaches forward and up to attack Pip. Nimbly, Pip sidesteps once and the biting arm glances off his elven chain shirt. A sharp bolt lunges out of Pip's crossbow and charms the air. It flies for the beast's face, through its toothy maw and shatters from the back of its head. A sharp cry fills the corridor before the chitinous mass slumps to the ground.
We round the corner into a dank room. A deep pool of sludge decorates the floor. Another crawler lurches from the back of the room and clambers forth along the wall. From the south something large lumbers barking orders. Our small group is cornered between the walls and the well. To our South a large ogre, swinging a club, bellows charms and makes contact with Javirgen. To the East, the Crawler rounds the cavern walls and lunges for our priest. Kruug battles it with pure fortification but the beast rattles its wicked tentacles and alights him with its poisons. Our comrade falls in a toxic swoon and drifts on the edge of the pool. Shifting backwards, Denton tumbles into position and lets loose his bow into the shambling bug. Its innards rattle forth and cover the cavern walls with a pale mucous. Now only shell and shamble.
Arkwood fires into the Ogre most foul. The beast shudders, complaining in its horrible tongue. Stealing his opportunity, Pip steps away from his fallen colleague and unleashes hell from his crossbow. The bolt slips out from its woody sheath and anoints the beast's head with spite and vengeance. It rears back to bellow again but its breathe is gone, its song hoarse, and its bones limp. It trips down in a thunderous bundle.
The only bounty here are lessons hard won and within the ogre's paw a small key double bound - now covered in greenish bile.
....
Technical problems. Maptools performed very well this session. We continue to use 1.3b18. Even though a few of us are wireless... things progress well. Most of our problems are around voip and dropped calls or bad mics. Again, i'll highly recommend Plantronics sp500 headsets to any that are interested. There may have been a few other little glitches that some of the others might come in with but i don't have other notes.
Not so bad considering our ref was holed away in the back of a truck in a parking lot in Reno.
I'll be gone next week - hope somebody present will contribute a write-up. And that you don't kill my character.
It's been so great trying this system out with complete strangers all with different backgrounds and gaming experiences. The feedback I've been receiving from this group has been so helpful.
