Campaign journals, reviews of TTRPG stuff, and musings on D&D.

Conquering the Barbarian Altanis: Session 54

Adventurers

Character Class Description
Gildree Elf level 1 Expat from far away land with a permanent scowl. Attempts to integrate with locals by carrying halberd and blood-red plate mail adorned with little skull motifs.
Marston Dangon Magic-user level 1 A tall man engulfed by large cloak with broad, stuffed shoulder pads. Hundreds of sewn fireflies make his cloak look alive.
Rashomon Elf level 1 A dangerous looking elf.
Lyffed Elf level 1 Thin and balding elf whom also happens to be Rashomon's friend.
Ripos Wildcheeks Halfling level 3 A halfling of style as attested by his loose fitting white blouse, silky cravat, and red cap.
Brent Goose Cleric level 3 An eccentric, but charismatic, cleric seeking the Holy Bird. White robes and black cloak conceal his tall, frail and anemic frame. His eagle-like nose is exposed for all to see.

Thistleburn 14th, Fireday

“Drop your weapons now, scum!”

Four armed man stared down Lyffed, whom had just scaled the rungs out of the underground tunnels leading into the cellar of the haunted house.

The elf politely declined, grabbed the rope, and rappelled back down. Just in time to witness a magnificently fashionable halfling emerge from a cloud of flour. That and six armed men fighting Rashomon, Gildree, and Marston.

A brutal skirmish ensued.

Rashomon the Death Dealer killed three of the armed thugs, and forced one to commit suicide. Gildree cleaved one in half. Wildcheeks perished within first ten seconds; he went down after being stabbed twice by a gluten intolerant thug.

Another unexpected ally appeared in a cloud of goose feathers! It was a cleric of Kadrim, The God of Small birds. He chirped and cheered in the background, as the party hacked their opposition to pieces.

Lyffed wasn't very successful with his attack. Heck, he couldn't even hack a dazed opponent. In fact, the man in question managed to defend himself. Upon coming back to his senses, he judged he'd be better off by fleeing into the dark tunnels. So he did.

Two more thugs descended down the rungs, only to be cornered by the superior might of these adventurers. To make it even worse, their “friends” above locked the trapdoor, getting them stuck with these murder-inclined people. Hence, they dropped their weapons and pleaded for mercy.

“Who do you serve and what are you looking for here?”

Rashomon went straight for the business. Marston took the stage and begun a loud monologue how he is the absolutely best mage. In the Wilderlands. Brent Goose cheered him on. Gildree frisked the corpses.

After a little bit of encouragement, the captive revealed they are mere swords-for-hire in the service of Klekless Racoba. The latter has been paying “small men the size of grown male's shin” to spy on all the merchant families, as well as queen's residence. He'd use that information to plunder the richest caravans.

Satisfied with the information, as well as the map they had recovered, the party decided to head back and report everything to the castellan.

Only one small issue.

Their only way out was locked. And what if more of these men were just waiting for them?

Well, Gildree The Brave and Strong scaled the rungs, and started bashing the jammed trapdoor. It took him a mere hour to get through. Much to the delight of elves below who threw casual insults like jabs.

Surprise!

No one greeted them upstairs. The party huddled, quickly navigated the streets of Hara to rejoin with members who took a day of rest—Eon, Helmuth, and Edimus—and then went straight to the citadel.

“The castellan will see you when he has time.”

Naturally, they had to wait until sundown.

“The name you mentioned. Are you sure that's the person whom you want to accuse as the main perpetrator?”

“Yes, Klekless Racoba. Our prisoners can corroborate our story.”

Two tied men nodded.

“Klekless is the headmaster of the Mage's Guild. And these are serious accusations. I'll ask you to stay in Hara until we confirm your findings.”

The ask was, of course, and euphemism for command in this case.

“Now, if you will return me the signet rings. Yes, good, yes, all five of them. You will be rewarded as promised—your full weight in gold coins.”

Thistleburn 20th, Spiritday

Adventurers had to wait six days to hear the final verdict. Brent Goose spent his time proselytising, feeding birds, and earning himself a moniker of “bird lady.”

Gildree took a very low profile, spent his time in the citadel barracks, and being cautious of everything. Marston did the opposite. He went carousing, telling everyone what a great mage he is.

Rashomon and Lyffed retreated into Poseidon's temple to train and meditate. They also spent time in deep conversations with acolytes and clerics.

On the sixth day since their report, a man charged them in the street, yelling profanities. The man was tackled by the guards. “Another one of the scum taken! You–” the captain of the guards pointed at Rashomon “Yes, you! The castellan demands your presence at the citadel. Now.”

This time the party did not have to wait to be admitted. In fact, the castellan barely gave them any time whatsoever.

“You were correct. We have sealed the tunnels. Unfortunately, Klekless Racoba has fled the city. I'm sure you made a very powerful enemy. Either way, thank you for your services. You are most welcome to stay in Hara and spend your earned coin here.”

The man left before they had much to ask—and seemingly ignored whatever else might've been pointed at him.

“What now?”

“Let's hit the streets and taverns!”

Harvestime 5th, Spiritday

Brent Goose continued his sermons in the streets of Hara. Lo and behold! He attracted ten followers! The worshipping circle of Kadrim grows! True holy leader he is, he crashed at his worshipper's place and consumed their food and drinks.

Rashomon, Lyffed, and Gildree spent their days at the Fighter's guild. Little interesting work was offered. Their efforts to recruit new members resulted in Gildree picking up a fistfight with wannabe-tough guy. The elf knocked out some of his teeth just for a good measure.

And how about Marston. Well, he continued boasting about his importance and success in busting this “spy ring that troubled the castellan for years!” The result? The Grand Wizard was kidnapped after one of his escapades, dragged into a windowless room, and interrogated about his true involvement with the spy ring.

How he got out of their grip alive is a bit unclear. Marston, of course, would tell you how he blasted them with his amazing powers.

“They melted before my very eyes, not even a one percent of my true power!”

The sun was up. People were in good mood. And our adventurers were getting bored.

That's never a good sign for the locals.

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

#Wilderlands #SessionReport

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