Session 24: The Reality Wrinkle

Game Date: 01/05/2007 (Happy Birthday, Cat!!!)

In-Game Date: Mansday, Disander 13, early – mid-morning.

The week of Horfang.

While Grumble dreams of torture, and Rowan is dreaming of Potter’s brain getting extracted, Audric and Badger finish their midair make-out session and return to the Shield and Shingle. In the low light of the dying fire in the common room, the two make out the forms of two human males and a Halfling female. Badger recognizes the Halfling as the one who tried to pickpocket her the day before yesterday.

Greeting the two gnomes, the strangers introduce themselves as Arch and Thos, co-owners of the Gold Tabard Merchant Company, based in the Eastgate district. Their associate (the Halfling) is named Thelva, who gives them a bawdy wink. Arch compliments her on the picking of the “unpickable” lock, and has heard other favorable tales of her exploits. Badger realizes, as Arch is talking, that he is idly tracing the sigil of the thieves guild on the table top with a bit of spilled ale. Badger, eyes narrowing, wonders aloud what any of this has to do with her.

Arch calmly and cordially replies that first, they appreciate her handling of the unfortunate pick-pocketing incident. The city guard is a bit edgy of late, and have been treating criminals much more roughly. Secondly, when Arch learned of the relationship between the thugs who’ve been extorting businesses in Brindinsford and the infestation of wererats, he put two and two together, thinking of the bell tower rumored to be crawling with rats. He sent a few men to the tower to investigate this past morning, and the men haven't been seen since. These men were quite capable, Arch assures her. So consider this a fair warning for anyone thinking of heading into the tower.

Badger thanks him coolly and bids the three of them good-night. Thelva gives Audric a resounding smack on his butt on her way out. Badger grinds her teeth, barely restraining herself from sinking a kukri between the little rogue’s departing shoulder blades. Muttering darkly under her breath, she stomps upstairs to bed.

“What?” calls Audric. “So we both got our asses spanked today. Big deal.” The door to their room slams in response.

Meanwhile, Nialia has entered her meditative trance under the naked boughs of the old oak tree in Amrauthlin’s grove. Clearing her mind of the day’s trials, she sighs in pleasure, feeling the tree’s slow pulse beneath her. Suddenly an image springs to her mind, unbidden. She sees the party struggling and screaming, dimly lit by a fiery red glow. The scene flashes to another, as if jumping forward in time by a few seconds, then jumps again. Then there is a pearly bright glow that fills her vision, then nothing, only crying, as if heard from a long way off.

Nialia’s eyes snap open. Coming out of her trance, she feels a pull towards the tree. Just like the night before, she steps through the tree and emerges into the silent darkness of the Old Forest. This time, Araven stands there waiting, in elven form. Araven sees Nialia’s expression and asks her what the matter is. Nialia tells Araven of what she saw in her mind during her meditation.

Araven’s eyes grow wide. “You’ve had a vision? Such are not unheard of. Your visits to the forest might have sparked them. We see things in our minds; sometimes things long past, some things that happening now. Some are things that have yet to be. I had a vision, years ago, of you. I saw myself giving you the ceremony that awakened you Lythari blood. I saw Burn…” and here Araven trails off, and a look of resignation flashes across her face like a wisp of cloud over a full moon. “Well, I have seen other things as well,” the wolf queen finishes.

“Will this vision come to pass?” asks Nialia

Araven steps close to Nialia and takes her hand. “I have had visions of calamity before,” she says softly. “Some I have been able to circumvent. Other times fate runs its course despite my strivings.”

Nialia nods. Araven smiles, releasing her hand and stepping back. “I have more pleasant news for you, my young cub. There is someone wants to see you.” Across the clearing steps Bristle! Nialia squeals with joy, and Bristle trots over and nuzzles Nialia’s head with his own, snorting happily.

Bristle has been hunting down the last of the twig blights with the Bear Clan. They are fairly certain they’ve gotten the last of them; none have been sighted in the forest in over a week. He tells Nialia that he has been missing his druid companion, Kinna, but that he has also been thinking much of her. Lythari and unicorn walk together through the woods, until the eastern sky brightens and the birds begin to sing to the first rosy hints of dawn. Reluctantly Nialia goes back to the oak tree and heads into the beckoning portal. Once more she emerges in Amrauthlen’s grove. Amrauthlen greets her, and the two eat breakfast together before Nialia heads for the inn.

Rowan wakes from her nightmare feeling sick with dread. At first light, she throws on her clothes and heads out into the frosty pre-dawn air. She rounds on the first person she sees, stopping just short of grabbing them by the collar and shaking the hapless fellow.

“A silver if you can tell me where I can get a scrying done!”

“Ah… have ye tried the university? The wizards there do powerful magicks, I hear tell,” he stammers.

Rowan flips him the promised coin as she sets off in the pointed direction. She arrives at the librarium to find the lights on, but the great front door locked. She paces impatiently for perhaps ten minutes or so before she sees Kartharine approaching the steps of the library, a steaming mug of some liquid in her hands.

“Can we help, you, miss?” Kartharine enquires. Rowan explains who she is and what she needs.

“Rowan Liadon…” the loremaster repeats. “Your father is Larren Liadon? Hmm. I never met him, but I know of him. Follow me.”

She takes Rowan across the courtyard and into another building. They enter a large room that is part classroom, part wizards’ lab. Rowan has Potter’s letter to her to give Kartharine as a focus for the spell. Kartharine steps up to a crystal mirror and performs the incantation. The surface clouds up, and Rowan nearly pushes Kartharine aside to get a look as the cloudiness fades to reveal…

Potter rising from a bath, his skin steaming in the morning air. As Kartharine’s eyebrows arch, Rowan blushes furiously. “Uh. Sorry. Yeah. He looks fine.”

Kartharine’s demeanor cracks slightly as the corners of her mouth twitch upwards. “Yes, I should think so.” She watches Rowan’s discomfiture with amusement for a few more seconds, then breaks the spell, and the mirror returns to reflecting normally. Rowan, still apologizing, thanks the loremaster for her help, and prepares to leave, relief and embarrassment fighting for domination over her face.

“If you see your dwarven companion,” says Kartharine, “tell him I have found information that he may find useful.” Rowan encounters Nialia on her way back to the inn, and the two of them fall silently into step with each other, both lost in their thoughts.

Audric and Badger are downstairs plowing through a hearty breakfast and wondering where the heck their companions are. Grumble comes down the stairs as if in a trance and begins to eat in stony silence. The gnomes stare at him. He ignores them.

“Sleep well?” asks Badger brightly.

“No, and I don’t want to talk about it,” says Grumble. Audric’s eyes narrow slightly. He stares intently at Grumble, then nods to himself.

“I got some errands. You guys hanging around?” asks the dwarf.

“I’ll be here, at least,” says Audric. “Toreal may need further healing.”

“Fine,” barks Grumble, and leaves.

He walks past Rowan and Nialia on his way out.

“Hey Grumble,” calls the ranger, “Kartharine has some information for you!”

“Whatever,” replies the dwarf without slowing or turning his head. Heading to the moneylender’s guild for some of his savings, he then heads to Shooma’s for an enchantment on the silver waraxe he purchased. Shooma tells him to come back in an hour. Grumble heads to the library, but on the way asks a few likely suspects who might know what to do with a redcap’s tooth. He encounters a strange old man with a bulging eye and a crooked cane who claims to have been a mighty hunter of the fey in his youth. He tells Grumble that a redcap’s tooth can either be used to make the fey more amenable to you when dealing with them, or it can be ground up and used in powder form. Alchemists usually pay good money for them, due to the fact that killing redcaps is a risky proposition at best.

Thanking the weird old man, Grumble heads to the librarium.

Kartharine smiles at Grumble. “I did some research last night. Apparently, the last Goldenaxe’s weapon had a large topaz in the center of the blade. The fact that your axe does not would seem to lend credence to the theory that it’s an enchanted replica.”

“Yeah,” says Grumble, “I know about the topaz. I watched the Goldenaxe put it into my axe, then I dreamed about an orc cleric ramming the gem into my skull. I think it killed me with it.” He laughs. “I’ve had a rough night.”

Kartharine studies him for a moment. “Come with me,” she orders, and leads Grumble to the room where she led Rowan. This time she lays a circle on the floor and has Grumble stand in the center. “Now,” she commands, “tell me what happened.”

Grumble does, telling her of the dream and the fight, and the fact that he’s been seeing Augur every morning for a week now, and how Auger turned out to be an “echo” of the Goldenaxe Aukraugrimmer. Kartharine is silent except for a few pointed questions for clarification. Grumble concludes his story, telling Kartharine that he thinks the soul of the last Goldenaxe is trapped in the axe somehow.

Kartharine fetches a comrade of hers, a small, stooped gnomish wizard. Together they cast several spells over Grumble’s axe. After a few long minutes of careful study, they pronounce the axe to be soul-free by all means of detection they possess. The gnome leaves, and Kartharine sighs and sits down on a nearby bench.

“If your dream was a true sending,” she says slowly, “then I don’t think the soul is trapped in the axe, but in the gem, the family jewel of Aukraugrimmer’s family. Let me tell you another tale I came across. This comes from from the reign of Goldenaxe Angbahar. He was only Goldenaxe ever assassinated, poisoned by his enemies. He was resurrected the next day later by dwarven clerics of Moradin.

“Even though he had been dead for close to a day, his weapon did not disappear.

According to the accounts, Angbahar claims that when he came before the Hall of Valuation (the dwarven pearly gates), he was denied entrance by a figure shrouded in wisps of smoke. Angbahar insisted that he was worthy to enter the great hall below, where the valorous dwelt forever. The figure responded that Angbahar’s soul would not yet be allowed to rest, for there were those calling it back to the world above.

“Thus did Angbahar awake, still tightly gripping his weapon. When he did die, some 85 years later, his weapon disappeared in a few scant moments. The next night, his grandson, Angramman, underwent his vigil, and emerged with a new weapon as the next Goldenaxe.”

“I believe there is but one weapon in many forms, and each time it is released when the soul of the Goldenaxe reaches its spiritual rest after death. It is entirely possibly that you are the first dwarf to hold the axe in thousands of years. The gods alone know how the weapon got from the clutches of those evil clerics to that druid you killed¹.”

Grumble, his head spinning, picks his weapon up from Shooma and heads back to the inn. The enormity of the quest that seems to be unraveling before him sits on his chest like a weight.

Meanwhile, Toreal awakes just after Rowan and Nialia arrive. They fill the druid in on everything that happened last night. Toreal is impatient to be off to the bookstore. As Grumble does not return, Toreal’s restlessness spreads among the others. Finally, Toreal heads off to her shrine to prepare to “investigate” the bookstore, telling the others to meet her at her shrine in a little less than an hour.

The time crawls by, and still no Grumble. Everyone but Audric heads to the shrine. Audric waits in the common room for another half hour before Grumble returns. Audric fills Grumble in on the plan. Grumble was all set to bust some were-rat heads, but really just wants to hit something hard.

En route to the shrine, Grumble decides to test his newly enchanted weapon. “Check this out,” says the dwarf, and whack’s Audric in the butt with the flat of the axeblade. Audric flies forward, sprawling facedown on the pavement.

“Ow.” Rubbing his backside, Audric stands up gingerly. “Grumble?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you enchant that axe to be magically damaging to shapechangers?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, that’ll come in handy. Come on, we’re late.”

They arrive at the shrine to find everyone there waiting for them. Toreal is practically foaming at the mouth. It is a tense walk to the Reality Wrinkle bookstore.

The Reality Wrinkle is a fairly non-descript store, much like those around it. The first floor is stone, and atop that sit two more stories made primarily of wood. Upon arriving at the store, it is decided that Grumble and Toreal, the two people who would look very, very conspicuous in a bookstore, should remain outside until a signal is given. The rest of the party heads in to “browse”.

In the store, waves of disorientation sweep over everyone. Nialia realizes that the sensations of wrongness she’s been feeling are focused here in this place. Everyone else feels varying degrees of unease. A pallid, spindly man with a badly-shaved head approaches them. His eyes are filmy, and he all but drools as he asks them if he can be of assistance. The party distracts the shopkeeper while Badger sneaks behind the counter and investigates the back room. She finds another man sitting at a table, and staircases leading up and down.

Back in the store area, the shopkeeper displays a surprising amount of wherewithal as he notices the gnome’s disappearance. He looks at them suspiciously. Out of the corner of his mouth, Audric whispers to Rowan, “when I give the signal, ask the guy where they took the Paladin.” Rowan raises her eyebrows, but agrees.

Fearing that someone may have gone back behind the counter, the shopkeeper becomes increasingly agitated. Audric nods at Rowan, and shuts his eyes as she asks the question.

The shopkeeper glares at them. “I think you all better leave,” he slurs in a growl.

Audric’s eyes snap open. “They have him downstairs!” he yells, sliding his mace from its holder. Toreal charges up the steps and bursts through the wooden doors of the shop. Grumble comes in and clocks the shopkeeper in the head, knocking the poor man against a far wall. Toreal charges over the counter and rips aside the curtain that separates the bookstore from the back room. Unfortunately, this was what the man in the back room had been waiting for, and he zaps Toreal with a spell. Badger slips down the staircase in the confusion and tumult, noting with some displeasure that the feelings of disorientation are worsening as she enters the basement. Also, she can hear a strange gibbering that is really, really getting on her nerves. Finding no one in the immediate area of the first basement room, she sets to picking the lock on the only door in the basement. The disorientation affects her lockpicking skills, and it takes her several tries to succeed. By this time, the party upstairs has taken down the magic user in the back room and has followed in Badger’s footsteps down the steps. They crowd around the door, ready for anything. Badger throws open the door.

The source of the gibbering becomes horribly apparent, as a grayish mass of seething, amorphous eyes and mouths sways between two chanting men. In the far corner of the room lies a partially armored man, curled in a ball, covering his ears and rocking back and forth. This would seem to be Alaine.

The sorcerers attack the newcomers as they enter the room, and the aberration between them assaults the minds of the party with its confusion effect. Oh, and it spits acid at everyone’s eyes.

The room itself is an affront to the very nature of reality. Space is not what it seems in this room, angles that should not exist clearly do, and everything seems to be spinning in several directions at once, at different speeds.

The magic users don’t seem to be hampered by these effects, and fight desperately against the party. Toreal seems especially susceptible to the gibbering madness of the aberration on the floor. Half of the fight the young paladin’s squire is reduced to babbling incoherently herself. Even Badger is overcome for a moment and starts to flee out of the bookstore before the effect wears off and she rejoins the fight.

Evidently the sorcerers saw the gnome flee and gave her no more thought. This proves to be a costly error, for when she returns, she creeps up behind each sorcerer in turn and takes them both down with cunning sneak attacks.

Grumble finds himself fighting off the advances (and more acid spittle) of the aberration. Slashing weapons seem to do it little damage, and poison seems to have no effect at all. But together the party does manage to hurt it, and it retreats back towards a corner (for a given, non-Euclidean definition of “corner”), softening the ground around it into a morass akin to quicksand. Grumble, Audric and Badger are forced back away from the thing in order to avoid being sucked into the mire. Toreal, however, charges in, unaware of the treacherous footing. She trips, plunges into the morass, falls to one side and knocks herself senseless against a bookshelf. The aberration eagerly envelops the poor paladin in training, and the party looks on in horror, unsure that they can strike at the thing without hitting Toreal.

Finally, Audric sighs, and sticks a glove hand into one of the things questing mouths. He winces with the pain as it bites him, but with his free hand he casts a powerful inflict spell, bursting the thing open like the skin on soup that’s been left uncovered for a day or so. The thing is clearly dead, and they pull the paladin out from it’s innards.

Taking the two paladins with them, the party is only too happy to go back upstairs to where the laws of physics don’t seem to be so grossly violated. Rowan has broken her wrist in the fight and was hit by a ray of enfeeblement, so Audric sets to work curing all these conditions.

The party eyes the stairs up to the next level with trepidation. Alaine and Toreal aren’t going to be fit for fighting, but they can at least serve as a rear guard to warn the party if someone tries to get up the stairs after them. The party realizes that none of the sorcerers they’ve fought so far have been women, so their primary foe has yet to be encountered. The heroes rest for as long as they dare, then, with the blessings of Alaine, they make ready to head up the stairs to the two floors above…

¹though it makes you wonder if Belak knew what the axe was, considering his promise of making Grumble a king among dwarves. Creepy how the GM ties all this stuff together, huh?

Session 23: What Dreams May Come

Game Date: 12/22/2007
In-Game Date: Godsday, Disander 12, midafternoon – Mansday, Disander 13, morning.
The week of Horfang.

Nialia tracks the trail of the grimlocks through the back alleys of the West Hill to a door leading down into a dark stairwell at the rear of an old stone building. Rowan, staring down into the inky darkness, remembers her father talking about fighting grimlocks once. During one battle, their sorcerer cast silence around the party, while the druid’s skunk animal companion kept spraying the area. It smelled horrible, but the grimlocks couldn’t smell or hear the party, and turned a hard fight into a one-sided slaughter. When Rowan informs the rest of the party of the grimlocks’ weaknesses, Audric gets an idea.
He dashes to the closest confectionary shop, to the great confusion of the following party. There he procures several flasks of pure peppermint oil with a smirk on his face. The smell taken care of, the party breaks out the skull charms taken from the orc tribe, and Nialia takes out the skull staff.
Thus prepared, the party returns to the stairs leading down beneath the streets. The stairs, however, are merely a way to travel under the wide street that separates the West Hill area from the Eastgate area. The trail continues to wind around in the back alleys, finally terminating at the rear of an abandoned warehouse.
The party enters the warehouse through the only available means: a single window that has been broken. They have activated the staff, so they make no sound. They enter to find an inky blackness that no light seems to penetrate. They can barely see each other, even standing inches away from each other. Even Grumble’s darkvision does not seem to help him. Listening hard, they can hear stealthy noises, as though several somethings were creeping towards them. Audric hurls his vial of peppermint oil to the ground, and the still warehouse air is quickly filled with overpowering odor. After some fumbling about (on the part of both friends and foes), the party literally runs into the grimlocks, who can neither see nor hear them. Unfortunately, the party can’t see the grimlocks in the magical darkness. Still, things definitely took a turn for the "oops" as Grumble yells, breaking the silence charm of the skull staff.
The grimlocks, now able to pinpoint their foes through keen hearing, attack at once. Audric casts a light spell, dispelling the magical darkness around them. But the grimlocks' sense of smell is still hampered by the peppermint oil; the fight is still very one-sided in the party's favor. The grimlock female leader turns invisible and attempts a death attack on Grumble, but the hardy dwarf shakes off the effect. The party quickly surrounds her and cuts her down, with Audric stabilizing her before she dies.
They question her, and it turns out that she led her tribe into the city under orders. She was to kill and cause havoc in the city. She was ordered by someone who spoke in her dreams. Someone even a grimlock feared greatly. There was another, she said, who gave her orders. This was a human female who smelled like paper.
When she runs out of answers for the party, they finish her cleanly. On her corpse is a veritable alchemist shop of poisons, and Grumble is very happy that she didn’t have time to apply them all to her blade. All abou them are corpses of abducted citizens, most of which have been partially or completely devoured. There must be nearly thirty bodies in this lair/ larder. Suddenly even Nialia's sensitive nose is extremely grateful for the overwhelming aroma of peppermint.
Returning to the scene of the first grimlock attack, the party meets the city guards and direct them to the warehouse. The party overhears citizens wondering why someone named Alaine wasn’t here to prevent this, or at least aid in the killing of the grimlocks.
Questioning a nearby onlooker, they learn that Alaine is a paladin of Heironeous who keeps a small shrine nearby. He patrols the area of the city, helping to keep the peace and always ready to help the neighborhood citizens. He is well-liked, and there is concern in the citizen’s expression as he wonders why no-one has seen him since a day or so ago.
Tired and sore from the multiple encounters of the day, everyone trudges back to the inn and finally gets a chance to compare notes. Over supper, Grumble, Audric and Badger share what they learned about the house of Bel at the library, and Rowan tells of the rangers.
Afterwards, Grumble leaves to get his javelins from Shooma’s smithy. Nialia excuses herself to head to the grove and find Amrauthlen. Audric and Badger, the party decides, are to go and investigate the shrine where the paladin disappeared from.
Grumble finds his enchanted javelins to be everything he hoped for, and even tries a few casts at some archery butts Shooma keeps in the adjoining alley. He hasn't been this happy since he found the bottle of ha'ak.
Nialia finds Amrauthlin in his grove, where he thanks her for her aid in killing the aberration that slew Grelleck. After some small talk, both elf and lythari climb into the sturdy branches of the ancient oak tree and watch the sun set over the walls of the city.
At the shrine of Heironeous, Audric and Badger find the small chapel to be well-lit and tidy, but currently empty. A closed door leads off the chapel into a small room where the paladin and his squire live. Audric keeps watch outside while Badger searches the room. Unlocking a trunk, Badger forgets to check for traps, and narrowly evades taking the full force of the resulting fireball that bursts out at her. She does get singed, but is surprised that she and Audric cry out in pain at the same time.
Finally the truth comes out that Audric has been casting a spell on her that transfers some of the damage dealt to Badger to himself using the platimun ring he gave her. Still in the chapel, the two argue, unaware that an angry paladin’s squire is standing in the entranceway to the shrine.
A hasty explanation is necessary to prevent violence, but Badger and Audric finally convince the suspicious young woman named Toreal that they meant no harm, and wanted to help find the missing paladin. Toreal tells them that Alaine went to investigate a disturbance reported by a nearby neighbor who feared to investigate it for himself. Alaine never returned, and no trace of him was found at the scene the next morning. Audric and Badger fear the work of Grimlocks, and tell Toreal so. She thanks them and promises to investigate the warehouse (where the grisly remains of the grimlocks’ night-time forays were kept). As the two gnomes leave, Toreal smacks Badger hard on the rear with the flat of her blade, warning her not to meddle with the possessions of others.
As the two head back towards the inn, Audric accidentally lets slip that he can detect thoughts of others. Badger is momentarily dismayed, but Audric reassures her that firstly, he doesn’t do it to the party members (anymore), and secondly, it was the beauty and innocence of Badger’s mind that attracted him to her. “Physical beauty isn’t something really prized by shapeshifters,” he tells her. “But you can’t hide your mind, and the beauty I see there is what made it impossible for me to harm you.”
As Badger accepts this, they hear a cry from behind them. In the dim light (now that night has fallen across the city), they can see a cloud of fog around the small shrine. The two race back, searching through the fog for Toreal.
Badger spies two hunched figures carrying an unmoving Toreal between them. She yells for Audric and charges in, sword swinging. The two men turn out to be magic users, but Audric and Badger are more than a match for them.
Toreal, regaining consciousness (even after being spelled to sleep, then dropped on her head), and identifies one of the men as someone who works in a bookstore called the Reality Wrinkle. Apparently there was a suspicious death there last week that she and Alaine investigated for the city. Lacking any other evidence, they accepted the story that the man fell down the stairs and broke his neck, but the man did have many strange marks on him, almost like small bite wounds.
The gnomes decide to take Toreal back to the inn with them, as it obviously isn’t safe for her here.
Rowan and Grumble are waiting when they get back, and the gnomes tell their story, along with Toreal. They put Toreal in Rowan’s room, though the ranger isn’t thrilled about it. Rowan heads off to bed shortly thereafter, as does Grumble.
Audric takes Badger atop the city walls, where tells her that he wants to end the day with a good surprise and holds her tightly to him. After a leap from the wall, Badger realizes that Audric has grown a pair of large, feathery wings and they are flying!
The rest of the party, it seems, is not having such a great night. Rowan dreams of Potter. He rushes up to her, exclaiming that although he dreams of her all the time, this dream feels oddly real. He kisses her, but as he does, the sky around them grows dark, and out of the trees, a shadowy, cloaked form approaches. Although Rowan cannot see his face, she gets the impression of large, pale eyes, full of inhuman malice and an evil older than men.
Potter and Rowan scream as they feel a wave of battering hate in their minds. Another hits them, and another, driving them to their knees. The robed figure stoops over Potter and draws his head towards the opening of the hood almost lovingly. Potter screams, and above the screams Rowan can hear a sickening snapping and crunch, followed by a nauseatingly wet, organic noise. She rushes forward, but there are branches in her way now. She pushes through them to find Sellim sobbing over the corpse of his slain brother, Grelleck.
To her horror, Grelleck turns his head towards her, and his mouth begins to move, still oozing blood. “When hellfire burns the holy sanctuary, the empire below shall rise above. The outcast shall gather to him all evil, and the speaker in dreams shall become god of this world and the next.”
Grumble’s dream is even worse, if possible. His dream, too, seems more like reality. He lies naked on a stone table, heavy iron manacles binding his hands, legs and neck. His hair is gone, and his left eye has been ripped out. He rmembers that for the past two days, he has been tortured by evil orc clerics. All the clerics have no left eye; the mark of the worshippers of Grummush.
Grumble’s body is a ruin. Each of his fingers has been broken. Hot stones have been applied to his joints, leaving him crippled. Around him, he can barely make out other stone tables. With an anguished croak, his parched mouth trembles as he remembers he has watched as his entire family was tortured as well, then ultimately slain.
A form approaches his table. The head priest. In a metal box the priest carries Grumble’s sacred weapon. In the center of the axe is a large topaz: his family’s jewel. The priest takes several stone tools, and with dark incantations removes the gem from the axe. Laughing demonically, the priest sets the gem against the flat end of something that looks like an icicle. More priests appear , chanting, out of the foul mist and smoke of the chamber. With the same stone tools, the head priest carves runes and symbols into Grumbles helpless flesh: on his forehead, above his heart, his belly, his groin, and on each hand and foot. Grumble tries not to scream, but the pain is unbearable. Even so, all that escapes his ragged lungs is a croak barely recognizable as something that could come from a dwarven throat. The head priest howls a few final words, and all the others fall silent. For a moment, all the marks carved into him seem to burn as if aflame, then the priest slams the icicle down into Grumble’s forehead and everything goes black.
Grumble awakes, soaked in sweat. Auger sits across from him, staring with something almost akin to compassion in his eyes.
“You had to know,” says Auger, as Grumble continues to draw deep, gasping breaths. “There is no training today. Follow me.” Grumble pulls on his armor, takes his axe and heads out of his room into the hallway of the inn. The hallway seems longer than it was last night. At the end of the hallway is a low stone door, the lintels of which are carved with dwarvish runes Grumble cannot read.
Auger stands beside it, looking at Grumble, his face expressionless. “You must go through this door. At the end there will be a fight. Afterwards, you will know what to do. Remember your forms.”
Heaving the heavy door open, Grumble sees a lightless stone corridor descending at a steady slope down as far as his eyes can see. With a deep breath, he begins walking.
The tunnel seems to go down and on forever. Grumble has the curious sensation that he is traveling not only through space, but perhaps time itself. Finally, the hallway ends in another stone door exactly like the first. Opening it, Grumble emerges into a small chapel room. The only decoration, aside from a few ornate stained glass windows, is a low stone altar. Before that altar kneels a dwarf clad in royal armor. At the sound of the intrusion, the dwarf turns to looks at Grumble. Around his head is a metal circlet set with a large topaz… the topaz from Grumble’s dream!
The two stare at each other for a long moment. Finally the dwarf smiles. “Well,” says he, “I didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this.” He eyes Grumble’s axe with a hungry look.
“I think we’re supposed to fight,” says Grumble. The other dwarf nods, as if Grumble was commenting about the weather, taking his own dwarven waraxe from the stone table. The dwarf salutes Grumble, reciting a formal, ritual opening to a duel. Grumble says a few words he doesn’t remember ever having learned, but he knows that they are the words that must be said.
Then they close in, weapons ready. Grumble and the other dwarf quickly find the measure of each other. For the first several strokes, the two seem evenly matched. The other dwarf is a good fighter, but Grumble’s experience and ferocity begin to wear down the other dwarf’s defenses as the two continue to trade heavy blows in silence.
Finally, Grumble catches and locks the dwarf’s axe blade together with his own, and with a quick flick of the wrist sends it spinning across the floor of the chapel. Before the other dwarf can react, Grumble has his blade against the dwarf’s throat.
“I am defeated,” says the dwarf formally, breathing hard.
“Then may your first defeat be your only defeat,” intones Grumble, the words coming to his lips without his conscious control, “arise the Goldenaxe, with all favor of the gods, and rule your people wisely and well.”
The other dwarf bows, then fetches his axe. Grumble feels a tug from his own axe. He knows that he should give his axe to the dwarf. Reluctantly, he does so. The dwarf’s eyes light up as there is a flash. The topaz from the circlet has vanished, and now rests in the center of the axeblade. He holds Grumble’s axe aloft, the topaz winking as if aglow from some inner fire.
“By this Goldenaxe I rule,” he intones. Then he lowers it, clutching at his ribs with a wince.
“You are an exceptional warrior, master dwarf. If it is allowed, may I have the honor of knowing your name.”
Grumble looks away. “I have no name, nor clan. It was taken from me.”
The Goldenaxe purses his lips. “I know not what may have befallen you, but the gods obviously have honored you, else you would not be here to bestow the Goldenaxze with his sacred weapon. Therefore, with the gods permission, I shall give you a new name. “I, Arkraugrimmer, Goldenaxe that is, son of Arkrauthammer, Goldenaxe that was, son of Kronthammer, Goldenaxe that was, name you Morkalek, King’s Guardian, with all honor due to that name. This shall be my first decree as Goldenaxe that is.”
Here Arkraugrimmer pauses, and looks at Grumble. “I do not think we shall see each other again,” he says slowly. “But my heart tells me that you shall serve me again ere I am done with this world. Go in honor and valor, noble Morkalek. May Moradin keep you and Kron’nock guide your steps.”
With that, he bows one last time to Grumble and walks out the stone door that Grumble entered through. Grumble is silent and still for a long time. Finally, he picks up the waraxe left by the Goldenaxe and opens the door again. Nothing greets his eyes but the same long hallway that now slopes upwards. He wearily begins his ascent.
Auger is waiting outside the second door. “It had to be done thusly,” he says. Something bothers Grumble. The look on Auger’s face. Grumble stares. If Auger was many years younger, his hair dark instead of shock white, he would look just like…
“Arkraugrimmer,” breathes Grumble. “ArkrAUGRimmer! You’re him!”
Auger shakes his head sadly. “I am his shadow,” he says. “Not the dwarf himself.” Grumble looks confused. “I am just an echo, trapped in your weapon.”
Grumble looks down at the axe in his hands. It is his magical axe, the same he has had these past months. “What happened to you, then?”
Auger looks pained. “You dreamt it. You felt it. But I do not know what actually happened. That is for you to discover. My recollection is… clouded.”
“However,” Auger continues, “you passed your test, and are now a member of the ancient order of the Dwarven Axemaster. Hail and welcome, Morkalek, Master of the Axe!” Auger grips Grumble’s right bicep firmly, and Grumble feels like someone just pressed an ice cube to his skin on his upper arm.
“You now bear the mark of the Axemaster. No one can remove that mark save by taking your arm first. Do not let them!” He looks deadly serious for a moment, and then breaks into a wintery smile. Releasing Grumble’s arm, he turns and walks away down the hall.
“Your friends will have sore need of your strength in the days to come, Morkalek,” says Auger without turning, “but you will need theirs as well. Trust in them as you would your axe arm, and you may prevail.”
With that, he turns the corner and is gone.

Session 22: The Foulness of the Faire

Game Date: 12/15/07
In-Game Date: Godsday, Disander 12 mid-morning – midafternoon


Grumble, Audric and Badger stroll into the Moneylender’s Guild. Changing their jewels and other treasures into coin, they find they have close to 40,000 in gold coin at their disposal. They agree to pay the 5,000 gold fee to open an account with the guild, take some spending money, and keep the rest on account.
Grumble nearly skips back to the smithy and orders an enchanted adamantine shield, as well as some returning javelins. Quirky changes his mind and buys a sickle of alchemical silver for Nialia.
Leaving Shooma’s, they walk towards the librarium of the Grey University. Badger sees a few gnomish carts touting their wares. One is blathering on about the value and worth of their locks, “guaranteed unpickable or your money back!” They offer a prize to anyone who can pick the lock they have on display.
Narrowing her eyes, Badger strides up to the raised platform on which the gnome speaker and his “unpickable lock” are standing. For two gold pieces, she is allowed three tries. Badger’s first two tries are nearly successful, but the lock is rather clever. She sits back and thinks for a minute. Then, smiling sweetly at the gnome, she proceeds to pop the lock in a matter of a few seconds, kicking the trunk lid open with a flourish.
The crowd, always ready to cheer an underdog (especially an attractive one), erupts into applause. Crestfallen, the gnome hands her the prize: a gnomish motorized lockpick with a silence charm cast on it. The gnome feels a little better after hearing her family name. “Perhaps we can say, ‘Only the finest gnomish locksmiths in the world stand a chance of defeating our locks?’” Receiving a hearty pounding on the back from the dwarf and a kiss from Audric, Badger feels prouder than she has in quite a while. As the trio heads off into the crowd, a female dwarf stares, un-noticed, after them. She gives her shoulders a small shrug, and disappears into the throng as well.

*****

“So what’s a ranger like you doing in a forest like this?” Asks Sellim, the more handsome of the two brothers. Rowan can’t help giggling at the question; Sellim’s brother Grellick just groans. Sellim has been brazenly flirting with Rowan the whole time they’ve been tracking the odd trail left by their mystery creature. His cheerful demeanor and unashamed tongue can’t hide the fact that he (and his brother) both know their stuff. The three rangers track the beast as it wanders, seemingly aimlessly, through the woods near the river. They stop for lunch, briefly, but as soon as they’ve taken just a few bites, Rowan’s fox Gus starts backing away from her and growling, his fur raised.
Rowan realizes that it’s not her, but a smell coming from behind her, the scent drifting on the wind. Blood, and fresh blood at that. There are no jokes as the rangers move stealthily forward, arrows nocked to their bows. Less than a hundred yards away are the savaged remains of a brown bear. The bodies of her two cubs also lay nearby. All three animals were torn apart and disemboweled by some powerful claw or weapon. Bloody tracks lead off into the forest from there. The animals have been dead less than an hour, so the rangers follow this new blood trail as quickly as they dare…

*****

In the grove of Amrauthlin, Nialia helps the elf collect belladonna and other herbs used in creating potions of wolfsbane. These will be administered to those bitten by the were-rats in last night’s attack. The work is pleasant, though the urgency behind it casts a pall over what would be an enjoyable day in a well-tended garden. Nialia and the elf converse casually, Nialia deflecting questions that might lead towards the subject of the Lythari. Amrauthlin asks about the feeling of alien-ness over the city. He says that it’s been growing slowly over the last two fortnights, but the past week it’s gotten markedly worse. He can’t forget that the coming week is the Horfang, the week of ill-fortune on the elven calendar.
The plants gathered, the two druids head for the small shack Amrauthlin uses for a dwelling and a workshop. He glances at a sall leather sack and swears abruptly. He explains to Nialia that the druid in the grove outside of town and across the river needs the herbs in the sack as quickly as is possible, but the pressing need for the wolfsbane drove it from his mind. He asks Nialia if she’d be willing to deliver the supplies for him while he stays and work.
She agrees, and Amrauthlen gives her detailed directions to the grove, then invites her to take her evening meal with him. She agrees, and sets off towards the city gates. She does not get far when Enialis begins hooting softly, nipping at her ear and staring behind them. Nialia notices two tall, lean, rough-looking men who are obviously following her. She tries to act nonchalant, but the two men notice that they’ve been spotted and begin to close the distance between them and the druidess.
Nialia casts fog cloud, and an obscuring mist spills out from an alley and across the street. She ducks into another alley as soon as the fog obscures her view of her followers. Losing them does not take too much effort, and she’s able to leave the city without being accosted by anyone, nor does she see the two thugs again. Following the druid’s directions, she crosses the river and enters the woods.

*****

The Library of the Grey University is a large, sprawling, two-story building. It appears as though it has been much-added to over the years. The library, along with a handful of other buildings, are old buildings that survived the razing of the old city, making it about three hundred years old.
The three adventurers head inside and meet an older woman dressed in the grey robes of the university’s faculty. She greets them and introduces herself as Kartharine, a Loremaster and wizard.
Grumble wastes little time in asking about his axe. Kartharine peers at it through thick, square spectacles.
“Very early dwarven, possibly pre-tri-clan schism,” she says. “It looks somewhat familiar.”
She casts analyze dweomer, which to her surprise, reveals nothing. “Hmm. There may be more to this weapon than meets the eye. What does it do?”
Grumble tells her that it changes shape on command, but only to dwarven weapons. He doesn’t mention what happened the first time he touched the weapon.
“Have you shown the weapon to Shooma? She is very wise in such matters.”
“Uh, yeah, I did. She wasn’t much help, though,” says Grumble.
“What did she tell you, then?”
“She looked at it and started spouting off about the creation story; y’know, the one with the first dwarf, then the first Goldenaxe. That one.”
“Ah yes, the ‘One dwarf to rule them all’ story.” Kartharine smiles. “Let me think.”
She drifts off, and is silent for a few long moments. Grumble starts to say something, and she comes awake and She snaps her fingers. “That’s it! Follow me.”
Kartharine leads them through row after row of dusty bookshelves and case after case of scrolls. Finally, she stops before a series of drawers, all wide, deep, and short. Inside these drawers lie neatly stacked long, leather-bound scrolls that appear to be rolled up canvas. She picks one and carries it to a nearby table, unrolling it with gentle fondness.
“Ah, as I suspected. This is a drawing of a series of bas-reliefs that have since been destroyed by clan warfare. Both the original sculptor and the artist were very skilled, and the detail is incredible. This one shows the story of the last Goldenaxe slaying Corthonodox, last of the great black Nether-drakes. See anything familiar?”
Grumble, Badger and Audric stare at the drawings. The weapon wielded by the Goldenaxe is a dwarven waraxe, and the designs of the blade and handle are identical to Grumble’s axe.
“I assume you know the story of the Goldenaxe’s weapon?” asks the wizard woman. Grumble nods, still staring at the drawing. Neither Audric nor Badger has heard the story, though.
Kartharine explains: “When a new Goldenaxe was crowned, he was to fast for a day, alone in meditation before the final coronation ceremony took place. If the Goldenaxe found favor in the sight of their gods, some say Moradin, others say Kron’nock, the ruler would emerge from his solitary vigil with a weapon that would remain with him all his life. When he died, it would always disappear within the hour of the king’s death. Innumerable stories grew around the legend of these weapons, some are no doubt myth, and others have respectable historical evidence to back them up. There were Goldenaxes whose names are all but forgotten, but whose weapons will be remembered until the end of days.”
“Many wonder if the Goldenaxes had but one weapon throughout the ages, or if each king was bequeathed a different one. Dwarf scholars argue vehemently over this. In any event, the fact remains that some Goldenaxes carried warhammers, some waraxes, some greataxes, some even the Urgosh. All of them had slightly different abilities, according to legend.
“Such was the influence and symbology of these weapons that what finally broke the rule of the Goldenaxe was not so much the royal family being slaughtered in the precursor to the Great Orc War, but when the next Goldenaxe-to-be to be failed to emerge from their fasts with a royal weapon. Three separate dwarves, part of the Goldenaxe’s family through marriage, undertook this vigil in order to be crowned the new Goldenaxe. All failed. These three, of course, were the founders of the three royal clans. The dwarven high council decreed-”
Kartharine smiles at the adventurers. “I’m sorry, I slipped into lecture mode there for a moment. “I suspect someone created this axe to resemble the axe of the last Goldenaxe. Such things are not unheard of, though I have never before heard of dwarves doing so.”
“As I mentioned, most dwarves hold their weapons as to be only slightly less sacred than their kings, and their kings were revered only slightly less than their gods. Yet it’s obviously dwarven make, or the most cunning forgery I’ve ever seen. You have indeed set before me a curiosity, master dwarf. I will search what records I have. Return tomorrow and I may have found something. Or is there anything else about which you wished to enquire?”
Grumble tells Kartharine that they are looking for information on the House of Bel. Kartharine grows pale. She steps back, fingers moving to her hair. She pulls one of the sticks securing her graying brown hair atop her head. It appears to be a wand. She doesn’t point it at them, but her hand shakes visibly as she holds it at her side. Audric steps protectively in front of Badger, holding his arms out in a “hold-on” gesture. “Whoa, wait a minute. We’re all friends here. Let’s calm down, milady.”
After a few tense seconds (where Audric calculates a roughly 65% chance that Grumble and Badger can escape with their lives if he engages Kartharine in a direct magic duel, with a 20% chance of himself getting out alive), Kartharine nods to herself.
“Follow me,” she orders.
She takes them to a small room in one of the corners of the building. Two young students are poring over books spread on a low table.
“Out!” commands Kartharine, and the two scramble to obey. She shuts the doors and tells the three to sit at the table with her. She casts Otiluk’s resilient sphere around them all. Grumble and Badger are alarmed by the translucent sphere that materializes around them all, but Audric remains unperturbed.
“Air can pass through, but sound does not. Nor can we be detected by any scrying. Now, that name you uttered is proscribed. How came you by it?”
Badger and Grumble tell Kartharine about the nightmarish citadel under the earth, and the final, separate battle with the fallen druid Belak and the destruction of the Gulthias tree. They don’t mention the lythari, but then they tell of the apparition that appeared afterwards and savaged the mind of Heidiana. He told them they had earned the wrath of the house of Bel before disappearing.
Kartharine shakes her head. “I cannot believe you, yet why would you make up such a tale?”
Audric murmurs, “There was another name he told us, but it was not his own.”
Grumble perks up. “Hey, that’s right! It was, um… Kordon or something. Kolven, Koran… Kovan! That was it!”
Kartharine, looking grim, leans toward the patry. “I will tell you this once, and it must remain a secret among you. Few now live who can tell this tale, and every book that makes mention of those names, and the names I am about to utter, has been destroyed. We have worked hard to erase them from the world, that none may know who they were or what they did, for they came perilously close to destroying the world.”
She sits back, and fiddles with the rings on her slender fingers as she speaks.
“Do you know of the Demon War?”
“Is that the one with that Oruk-Thrun guy?” asks Grumble. “If it is, then yeah, we’ve all heard it.”
Kartharine nods. “It is indeed. Here is more knowledge than any bard will be able to sing you in the telling of that tale:
“In the year 1032 of the Laisren calendar, the Elfin Necromancer Tanneldwyn (who is called the possessed, the accursed, as well as other titles) attempted to re-open a portal to bring back Oruk-Thrun to this world. Tanneldwyn and his six acolytes labored in secret, unearthing the ancient ruins of the city of Scourge underneath the Old Forest.
“Afterwards, Tanneldwyn and his acolytes were all tracked down and slain, but the acolytes, powerful magic-users themselves, had servants and acolytes as well. Nearly all of these were slain, but three escaped.
“These three were all servants of Kovan, chief lieutenant of Tanneldwyn. Normally, Kovan ritually slew most of his disciples and raised them as undead servants, but these three were living. These most trusted disciples were two brothers and a sister, last remnant of the ancient and accursed house of Bel. Their names were Amroch and Hemen, and their sister was called Rannah.
“We know from reliable sources that they agreed to separate and pursue their own destinies, but each harbored a desire to see the goals of Tanneldwyn the Accursed fulfilled.
“Rannah and Amroch we have not seen since in thirteen hunderd years. About a thousand years ago, Hemen was discovered far to the north in what is now Stelichtz. He built for himself a fortress of black ice on the cliffs of the sea. Karak-vulk-marr, it was called, the tower of the wolf’s shadow. This fortress was destroyed and crumbled into the arctic waters with him still within. To the best of our knowledge, Hemen was slain when it fell, though his body was never found.
“To this day there are clans of elves, progeny of those who fought Tanneldwyn, who still hunt for any sign of these last two evil beings.”
After Kartharine finishes speaking, she waves away the spell of the sphere around them. Even the quiet susurrus of the library is welcome after the still silence with that sphere, listening to such a tale. Grumble and company leave the library, somewhat shaken, and glad to be back underneath the blue sky and bright warm autumn sunshine.

*****

The three rangers hear a quiet thrashing noise from the bushes nearby. The tracks lead to a thick, heavy cluster of brush. Grelleck tells Rowan that a small stream lays just behind it; the creature may be washing or drinking. Grelleck plans to circle around to the other side and then flush the thing towards her and Sellim. The two rangers nod, and Grellick melts, ghost-like, into the woods.
After a tense few minutes, they hear a loud snapping of branches, and ready their weapons. But then there is a horrible scream that cuts off abruptly. Then another scream, coming from farther away.
“Grelleck!” screams Sellim, and charges towards the stream, with Rowan close on his heels.
The rangers find a large bloody patch on the ground just on the other side of the stream. Grelleck’s sword lies beside it. From there, a bloody trail, as if something were being dragged, leads off into the brush. The two rangers charge headlong into the woods after the creature and his prey, Sellim still calling for his brother.
Nialia, nearby, hears faint screams coming from off to her left. They seem less than a mile away, so she shifts into her wolf form and streaks forward towards the sound.
A few minutes of fast travel brings her to a small clearing where a grisly sight awaits her…
Rowan nearly collides with Sellim as he stops short at the edge of a small clearing. The creature has obviously made this its nest; several carcasses in various states of decay lay strewn about the place. The creature, a bizarre cross between a lizard and a bird (look, it’s a Deinonychus. Kind of.), is slashing open Grelleck’s body with powerful, long talons on his hind legs. Sellim charges forward only to be slammed back onto the ground as the creature makes a 25-foot standing jump terminating on the ranger’s chest. Sellim is slashed nearly in half before he even hits the ground.
Rowan yells and charges forward as well, her swords flashing, as Nialia appears, unseen by the creature, across the small glade. Rowan feels the talons ripping into her, and the thing’s foul teeth snap just inches away from her throat. Nialia, still in wolf form, calls a lightning bolt that distracts the creature for a moment, though it seems to confuse it more than hurt it. Rowan presses her own attack, and Nialia charges forward and grabs the thing’s leg, pulling the large lizard to the ground. Rowan whispers the name of her new blade as she slices into the beast, and it shudders into stillness. Helpless, only a few strokes are needed to finish the beast. Dying, the thing seems to melt, it’s limbs going soft, as if putrefying, in a matter of a second. Several new eyes open in it’s mangled head, as well as a second mouth. This nauseating display lasts for a moment, then the creature succumbs to its wounds and perishes.
Nialia saves Sellim from the brink of death with her wand of cure light wounds.
Sellim’s good humor and smiles are gone as he gets to his feet, staring at his brother’s body. He takes Nialia’s package, telling the women that he’ll be taking his brother’s body back to the grove for burial. He thanks them for saving him, but insists he do this alone. They follow him for a while at a careful distance, making sure nothing else in the forest bothers him. Finally they set their feet towards the city once more, their hearts heavy.
At the city gates, Nialia stumbles as she’s overcome for a moment by a wave of vertigo. The feeling of wrongness in the city spikes, and she fights off nausea. A few seconds later, another wave hits her. She can’t pinpoint the location, but she thinks it’s coming from the direction of the West Hill district. Rowan asks, “Wasn’t the library that the guys were going to in that district?”
The two women look at each other for a moment, and then increase their speed as they enter the city.

*****

Walking along the street of shops in the west hills, Grumble, Badger and Audric consider the news they’ve heard. Few people walk the street with them; most of the shops are closed, their owners having displays and carts set up on the main street of the faire. Suddenly the world seems to tilt and twist before their eyes, and a strange, alien landscape seems superimposed over the façades of the stores. Unlikely trees sway above a gray-green swamp, and the sky above is a sickly orange. That image fades quickly, but a pool of slime expands under their feet, and the three have to backpedal hard to avoid it sucking at their footgear. Before they can do more than utter startled cries, a giant creature emerges from the slime. A translucent worm-like thing, it towers over them, seven waving, claw-tipped tentacles wave like cilia around a circular, toothy maw. With a strange, high-pitched cry, it attacks.
As Grumble and Badger wade forward, blades swinging, Audric looks behind him to see a second pool expanding behind them, trapping them. He curses as another worm creature rises from the new slime pool.
It is a grim, desperate fight to slay the creatures while dodging the seething mass of tentacles that seek to drag them into the worms’ mouths. Soon all three are bleeding from a score of claw and bite marks, and all have barely evaded being stuffed into the sickening, pulsating mouths of the worm-creatures. The worm creatures, seemingly oblivious to the gashes in their own thick hides, attack mindlessly. More clear slime spills from their wounds, coating Grumble, Badger and Audric in the viscous goo.
Finally, both worm creatures take so much damage that they can no longer attack, though even as they lay still, tentacles still snap feebly in the direction of the exhausted trio. As the worms finally die (which seems to take forever), the corpses and the slime pools under them fade out of existence. Audric, realizing the creatures must have been summoned via a spell, looks around for a magic user in the gathering crowd of onlookers, but sees no likely suspects. The crowd, believing the spectacle to be some manner of show, applauds enthusiastically. Some even throw a few coins at their feet. Muttering darkly, the three of them are just getting their breath back when Nialia and Rowan show up. They overheard people talking about a dwarf and two gnomes putting on a show of fighting monsters as they passed through the city, and came as quickly as they could.
Nialia and Rowan tell their comrades what has occurred in the forest. A suggestion to retire to the inn and discuss the rest of the day’s events is lauded by all, and the tired adventurers head towards the center of town, to the Shield and Shingle.
Nialia remembers the offer of Amrauthlen for a meal together. She tells them that she must tell the other druid that their dinner will have to wait until a later date, and then she’ll meet them at the inn. She walks away in the direction of the grove, passing a troupe of actors performing on a hastily erected stage. The play is a poor rendering of an old elven story, and Nialia doesn’t even look up as she threads her way through the dozen or so people gathered to watch (or jeer).
As the hero onstage proclaims his intent to go and slay the trolls that have abducted his love, a hulking figure emerges from behind the curtain on the stage. Tall, gray-skinned, and muscular, it wears only a loincloth and wields an axe made of crudely carved stone. Where the things eyes should be, only blank stretches of skin exist. It sniffs the air for a moment, then turns toward the actor on the stage.
“Oh, hells below,” whispers Audric, “that thing’s real. Shoot it!” and takes off at a dead run, yelling warnings at the actor.
The actor turns and sees the monster and gives his first convincing performance of the afternoon as he screams in terror. The monster cuts him with his axe, and the actor collapses to the stage, bleeding. Before the monster can finish the job, Rowan’s arrow takes him through the back of the head, killing him instantly. But while that happens, four more of the creatures have leaped out from behind the stage and have jumped down to the stunned crowd below, attacking indiscriminately. The party wades in, weapons swinging, but not before several more bystanders have fallen.
Grumble had started towards the action along with everyone else when he stops as if pole-axed. Just beyond the panicking crowd is a small knot of dwarves hurrying away from the action. One of them, a female dwarf, turns and looks straight at Gumble. Their eyes meet for a moment, and Grumble feels his blood turn to ice in his veins. The face... it can’t be. She’s dead. But the likeness is exact, down to the last metal band used to fasten the end of her braids.
“Glorwyn!!” comes the tortured cry from his lips. She turns away as one of the dwarfs takes her arm and they hustle away.
Grumble chops through the monsters before him without even really seeing them. The last creature hasn’t even finished collapsing to the ground when Grumble takes off after the dwarves at a dead run.
Pushing through the crowd, he finally catches up with the dwarves he saw, but there is no girl with them. Panting, he accosts them, and they draw back, hissing through their beards at the sigh of him.
“Yeah, yeah, no beard. Deal with it!” he snarls into their faces. “Where’s the girl who was just with you?”
The dwarves look confused now as well as offended. “We have no female with us, fool,” spits the closest to Grumble.
“I just saw her with you when you ran away from those things on that stage, now where the hell is she?!?”
Again the dwarves insist that they have no female companion with them, and tell Grumble that he should learn to handle his liquor better. They turn from him and walk away. Grumble stares after them, his face suffused with rage and frustration. He picks up a loose broken cobble from the street and hurls it into the back of the helmet of one of the dwarves. “DON’T YOU TURN YOUR BACK ON ME YOU BASTARDS!”
The struck dwarf turns and tries to charge at Grumble, fumbling with the peace-bond leather covering on his own axe. “Kil-mar’nock FILTH!” the dwarf spits. “I’ll gut you like a-”
But his companions tackle him from behind, shouting that he should not sully his blade with the blood of an outcast. They carry their struggling companion away as Grumble watches, motionless, gripping his axe so tightly that his hands ache.
Grumble says nothing as he returns to the rest of the party. Audric and Nialia have healed who they could. The actor, upon waking up, takes one look at the blood-and mud-spattered adventurers and takes off into the crowd with yet another scream.
Looking behind the curtain of the makeshift stage, Nialia and Audric find the rest of the acting troupe slaughtered. A door leads out of the back of the wagon the stage is erected upon, and leads down a narrow alleyway.
“Nialia,” asks Audric, “can you track the trail of these things back to wherever their lair is? There may be more of them.”
Nialia becomes a wolf and goes sniffing around while Audric goes back out to the stage and informs everyone else of their dark discovery. Healing themselves, the party prepares to follow Nialia’s lead through the maze of back alleys. All the while, Rowan feels like there’s something she’s forgetting about the foes they faced. Something her father said. Something very important…

Session 21: All’s Faire (part two)

Game Date: 12/08/2007
In-Game Dates: Disander 11th, evening – Disander 12, mid-morning

The panicked faire-goers make it difficult for the party to reach the were-rats. By the time they push, intimidate or slip their way through the people, the pair of were-rats have slain another guard. Not only that, but a cluster of fiendish dire rats are racing around, biting everyone they can and causing havoc.
Audric morphs into a much taller (about 6’3”) version of himself, carrying Badger on his back as he begins casting as many buffing spells as he’s able on the party. Nialia calls lightning on one of the were-rats as Grumble attacks the other. Dire rats swarm all over the rest of the party, spitting and biting. As Badger slides off Audric’s back, a third wererat changes from his unremarkable (but ugly) human form into a hybrid form, attacking Badger from behind. Seeing Badger both bitten and stabbed, Audric momentarily wigs out and casts wrack on the third were-rat, who collapses in helpless agony. Badger recovers a moment later and gives her assailant a merciful coup de grace.
Grumble demonstrates that one doesn’t necessarily need silver to kill a lycanthrope, as cutting one completely in half seems to also do the job, albeit very messily. Grumble turns his attention to the other were-rat while fending off a pack of dire rats that swarm around and over him. Badger gets in behind the were-rat, slicing away at the hybrid’s legs and other vulnerable points, keeping the were-rat from pressing his advantage over Grumble. Nialia and Rowan spot a human in the process of killing yet another guard amidst the still retreating crowd, about sixty feet from the combat. Nialia calls down the thunder (er, lightning) on this man as he changes from man to hybrid were-rat. Snarling and brandishing his rapier, he charges towards the druid. Rowan steps between the two and engages this were-rat, who seems to be in command. Both sides hold their own for a minute, give or take a few dire rats. Finally, after taking enough blows and cuts to drop four normal creatures their size, the were-rats take off in opposite directions. Rowan and Grumble streak after their respective opponents, but soon lose them in the warren of side-streets and alleyways.
By the time they return, the remaining dire rats have either been killed or have likewise fled, and the guards of Brindinsford have arrived on the scene. The guards obviously do not believe the outlandish account given by the party, all they see are dead guards, merchants, and faire-goers (the were-rats having reverted to human form upon dying) lying strewn about the street, with the party standing over them with bloodied weapons. However, Audric has managed to stabilize one of the guards, who vouches for the truth of the party’s tale. Then the crowds, returning to the scene, also clamor that the party are heroes, not villains. Lieutenant Shella is sent for, who arrives moments later. She asks them to accompany her to the barracks. As they walk back up the main street of the faire, they see another spot of similar devastation, with the guards working quickly to clear the bodies from the area.
Reaching the barracks, Shella asks them for an official account of what happened. The party faithfully relays the events to the grim-faced Lieutenant. She tells them that two other groups of lycanthropic assailants struck the faire, and while the guards drove them off, the guards took heavy casualties, and none of the guards succeeded in killing any of the were-rats. The lieutenant thanks the party once more for services rendered, and by way of reward tells them that they are no longer subject to the peace-bonding laws; they may keep their weapons ready at all times. The tone of Shella’s voice suggests that having their weapons ready at all times would be a prudent thing to do. After that, the party is free to go.
Tired, the party heads for the Shield and Shingle. Grumble almost immediately heads upstairs and is asleep almost before his head hits the pillow. The rest of the party is recognized by the crowd as being the slayers of the were-rats and are plied with compliments, questions, and all the free drinks they can swallow. Nialia ducks out of this and makes her way to the grove of the druid said to be within the walls of the city. The streets are dark, but she eventually finds herself before a large, walled enclosure taking up an entire city block. Above the 20-foot walls she can see the tops of trees silhouetted against the star-strewn night sky. A male elf druid greets her at the simple wooden gate and bids her welcome. He is Amrauthlen, and his familiar, a fierce-looking hawk, is named Kerrit. He gives her a tour of the well tended gardens, at the center of which stands a might ancient oak, grown, says he, from a seedling brought out of the Old Forest. Nialia could tell this, drawn to the tree like a faun to its mother. She feels the tree, the soil around it, even the air that the leaves enrich, as though it were a part of her own self.
Rowan eventually heads off to bed, as do Badger and Audric. In the privacy of their room, Badger asks if Audric thinks it would be worth looking at the locksmith booths to see if perhaps any of her brothers are here showing their wares.
Audric, as gently as possible, reminds her that she saw them all in their home far to the north just a scant week ago, and they could not possibly have traveled all this distance in that time. Badger sighs; listening to Bruge and Chlyra reminisce about Rowan as a young girl has made her terribly homesick. Saddened, she goes to sleep, Audric providing what support he can.
Back in the grove, Amrauthlen bids Nialia good-night and leaves her to her meditations. Nialia falls into a trance, and as if in a dream, she and Anealus enter the old oak, only to emerge in a forest. She walks among the trees as if she knew them all by name, and comes to realize that there are wolves everywhere, watching her. They call her to join them, and as she becomes a wolf, she realizes that these are her kin, the Wolf Clan. They run, they hunt, and finally, they sleep under the boughs of a tree very similar to the one Nialia fell asleep under. Nestled in close to Nialia is a Lythari who smells very familiar.
“Araven?” asks Nialia.
“Shhh,” comes a whisper in her mind, “Now it is time for resting. Sleep, my young one.”
The next thing Nialia knows, it is just past dawn, and she feels more refreshed than she’s ever felt in her life. She realizes, however, that she is in wolf form, and there are wolf prints all around her. She cannot possibly have made them all, for they vary in shape and size, but none of the tracks leave the area just under the tree.
Amrauthlen does not comment on the tracks when he comes to greet her. He does tell her that he had a strange dream: he saw Nialia sleeping under the tree, and an elf lady of great beauty and power came from the tree and commanded Amrauthlen to render Nialia any aid she may require.
Amrauthlen asks Nialia who this elf lady might be, but Nialia merely repeats, “as you say, she is a druid of great beauty, age and power,” and does not elaborate.
Nialia is invited back to the grove whenever she wishes, which pleases her immensely, she has not been able to work in an elven garden for too long. She promises that she will return later in the day and will help him tend the grove.
Meanwhile, Grumble is woken once more by the mysterious Auger. Auger leads Grumble to an abandoned warehouse, where once again they practice the axe kata. Grumble asks Auger if he knows any dwarf matching the description of the one Grumble encountered the last night of his drunkenness. Auger responds that he knows of no such dwarf.
“Well then,” says Grumble,” what do you know of my axe?”
Auger smiles, “I know many things about your weapon.”
Grumble’s momentary excitement turns to frustration as all Auger gives are vague hints and cryptic responses to specific questions. The most often repeated answer he gets is that he will have to find the answers for himself. When they finish, Auger walks out the door, but is nowhere to be seen when Grumble exits a second later.
Back at the Shield and Shingle, the party awakens and reassembles. The fair is even bigger the second day as more people have arrived this morning. The events of last night do not seem to have much dampened the mood of either the merchants or faire-goers. Even so, today the party goes out in full armor and with all their weapons. Grumble, Badger and Audric want to go see the famous Librarium of Brindinsford. Grumble hopes there may be found some information about his axe, while Audric wonders if someone there may know something about the House of Bel. The trio’s first stop is Shooma’s smithy, where they pick up a weapon of alchemical silver for each member of the party (except Nialia).
Rowan heads out of town and tracks down (literally) the party of rangers she met several nights ago. The two rangers, both half-elven, greet her. They are brothers, one is Simmin, the other is Grellick. They are tracking a strange creature they have only found the tracks of, and never seen. The Halfling encampment outside the walls of Brindinsford has been having disappearances and other unpleasantness in the past several days, and the rangers wonder if this creature could be the cause.
At the smithy, Shooma tells Grumble, Audric and Badger that thugs have been running protection rackets and extorting and robbing the merchants in the Chatterstreet Market area for three months now. None have ever been caught by the city guard, but Shooma muses that if these thugs were were-rats, that would explain much. She does not know where such fiends would lair, but it is common knowledge there has always been a rat problem in the town’s central bell tower.
Nialia returns to the inner city grove. Today the feeling of wrongness seems to have cleared in her mind. She feels an alienness about the city, as if two worlds were trying to coexist in the same place. However, the wrongness of the city bothers her less in the grove, and she turns her mind to more pleasant things, like tending the plants with Amrauthlin, with Anealis and Kerrit looking down at their masters from the branches above.

Session 20: All’s Faire

Game Dates: 12/01, 12/04
In-Game Dates: Disander 9th – Dis 11th, evening

Grumble awakes from a nightmare where he hears his sister calling his name for help to hearing a gruff voice calling his name in real life. Sitting across from his bed is a dwarf in a simple leather shirt and leggings. His face is old and weathered, though his eyes are bright and shining. In his hands he holds Grumble’s axe.
Grumble demands the stranger to identify himself and state his business. The dwarf calls himself a name that sounds like “Auger,” and informs Grumble that he’s here to help him, though he does not say by whose behest.
“You fight well,” states the stranger, “but as we say, there’s more to mining than just hitting the rock with your pick.” Bidding Grumble to come with him, Auger leads the dwarf into a clearing in the woods, where he begins to teach Grumble a series of stances, or positions, for fighting with his dwarven waraxe. This goes on for an hour or so, then the stranger merely states that they will do this every morning from now on. Afterwards he wanders into the woods and is lost in the morning mist. Confused and somewhat winded, Grumble heads back to the common house as the rest of the party is awakening (except Nialia).
Upon rising from bed, the party is served a lavish breakfast by grateful Halfling farmers. The party, healed now that Quirky has awakened, eats with renewed gusto (while magical healing heals wounds and restores the body, it doesn’t necessarily replace all the blood that has spilled out before said healing. That having been said, it’s a miracle my party isn’t suffering from advanced anemia or constantly passing out from low blood pressure).
Quirky excuses himself from the table as the party discusses their options. The most reasonable choice of action is to collect their fee and wash their hands of the whole affair, continuing southward to their audience with the Grand Duke. Badger goes in search of Quirky, only to hear his voice coming from the closed door to their room, as if conversing with someone. Badger listens to Quirkys side of a conversation, as she cannot hear anyone else speaking, though Quirky is obviously responding to something. She does not hear much, but what she does hear chills her anew. Quirky is still hiding something from her and the rest of the party. She leaps across the hall as he exits the room, then hurriedly searches their room once he’s out of sight. She finds nothing amiss but a curious scratch at the top of the mirror that sits atop their dresser. She can’t be sure, but she doesn’t remember it being there the night before.
Quirky returns to the room, seeking Badger, and she confronts him about what she’s heard. After some dissembling, Quirky confesses that he was indeed trying to keep something from her. He tells her that if she were to die, Quirky could magically restore her soul to her body, using their love as a bond to pull her back from the afterlife. However, were he himself to die, things would not be so simple. Part of the price he pays for stealing magic from the gods is that no priest of any holy order would be willing to restore his soul (how they would tell, he does not say). Another Ur-Priest could do it, but Quirky cannot imagine one of them being willing either, as most members of his order are altogether evil, nor would he ever want Badger to seek any of them out. Therefore, Quirky was attempting to put together a contingency plan that would keep his soul from hell (literally) in the event of his death. He planned to keep it a secret because he did not want to worry Badger, but also because old habits die hard. Badger assures him that she won’t let him die, and hugs him close.
Meanwhile, the party is mending their weapons and armor as best they can. Elder Joram has met with several other village elders, and the loose federation of Halfling villages wishes to throw an impromptu celebration in the party’s honor. The party figures that they’ve earned some rest, so they relax for the remainder of the day, until the start of the feast.
The feast is everything the adventurers have heard about wild Halfling parties. Food and drink fill the tables, streamers and ribbons adorn every tree, and even a few local bards sing the Tale of the Heroic Five that Defeated the Skull Tribe to an embarrassingly receptive and appreciative audience.
The party also finds out about the history of Brindinsford from Elder Joram. Long ago, Brindinsford was called Pythus, and was the capital city of the dukedom. There was a revolt that cost the lives of most of the nobles in the city nearly two hundred years ago, and the city was nearly razed to the ground in the ensuing battle and siege. Afterwards, while the city was being rebuilt, the capital was moved to the southeast, and a different city became Pythus. When the old Pythus was restored, they renamed it Brindinsford. The Grand Duke did not want to rebuild it at all at first, but soon realized that the old city occupied too good of a strategic location for defense and trade to be left to crumble. In addition, many influential mages and religious orders had temples and towers there, and finally the Grand Duke caved in to the pressure. But as a final insult, he gave rule of the city over to a lowly baron out of favor with his court (baron being the lowest level of nobility that could govern a city of that size by Fallo law). For the current baron, Elder Joram has no unkind words.
Throughout most of the feast Badger has her worried eyes on Quirky. He seems not all there, though he nods graciously to each Halfling who thanks him for his efforts. Obviously something still bothers him, and Badger frets at this distance that still seems to lie forever between them both. Nialia and Rowan have noticed that the halfing outrider Cora Thornapple has had her eyes on Grumble the entire feast. Now that evening has fallen, the two of them barely restrain giggles as Cora drags the hapless dwarf off to talk at an empty table.
Cora sees something in Grumble, a kind of kinship with the outcast dwarf. Not just the fact that she herself has dwarf blood in her (explaining her height and some of her personality). She asks Grumble if he wants to join her for a drink. Grumble, who hasn’t exactly bathed recently, excuses himself to quickly “freshen up”. He tears off to the common house as though a host of dragons were chasing him.
In the main room of the common house, Quirky and Badger are sitting before the fire. They stare with their wide eyes even wider (if that were possible) in shock at Grumble’s demeanor and his request…. For soap.
Badger offers the dwarf her lavender soap, but in the end Grumble takes some rough soap Badger uses for Zook. After sluicing the grime and dirt off himself, Grumble gets dressed and heads back into the common room. With as much dignity as he can muster, he asks the two how he should behave. Quirky, his face radiating serious concern, rattles off a list of things not to be forgotten:
“Tell her she’s beautiful, but don’t insincere. Be courteous, but direct; she’s a fighter herself and will appreciate it. Look into her eyes, but don’t stare. She obviously has a special bond with her wolf, so don’t make any cracks about him. Let her do most of the talking, and pay attention when she does. Don’t start any kind of competition with her, drinking game, arm-wrestling or otherwise: if you beat her she’ll resent you, and if she beats you she’ll suspect you let her win, and she’ll resent you.”
Quirky’s list goes on until Grumble’s eyes begin to glaze over. Finally Quirky ends with, “Well? Don’t keep her waiting! Go, go, go!” Grumble runs out the door, and Quirky and Badger both manage to last several seconds before collapsing into fits of laughter that leave them teary-eyed and gasping.
Grumble returns to Cora, and the two of them talk. They speak of loneliness, of the freedom living on the road offers, and the life of a warrior. She speaks of how she became a wandering protector, and Grumble listens with all appropriate attentiveness.
Finally Cora suggests they retire to her home, a small, simple cabin on the outskirts of the village. She pauses at the door.
“Grumble?” she asks.
“Yeah?”
“We’ve shared a bit about ourselves haven’t we? Gotten to know each other a little bit? Talked about things?”
“Yeah.”
Cora opens the door, spilling red-orange light from the fires and torches on the meadow across the bare wooden floor and a straw pallet covered with sleeping furs.
“Can we maybe not talk for the rest of the night?”
“Yeah,” smiles Grumble as Cora pulls him inside and shuts the door.

Back in the common house, Quirky finally tells Badger what’s been troubling him. His name, Quirky Timbers, was just an invention, part of a persona that he adopted for his… assignment. With a tremor in his voice, he asks Badger to choose two names for him, one that he can be known by to the rest of the party (and the world, for that matter), and the other to be a private name, one to mark his passage from living as a shadowy figure to walking in the light.
Badger is obviously not comfortable with such a burden, but Quirky insists, and she agrees. By the time Rowan and Nialia return to the common room, the two gnomes have gone to bed, though it is a long time before Badger can fall asleep.

When Grumble awakes it takes him a moment to recall everything that’s happened. With an uncharacteristic smile of his mustached face, he rolls over to gave into the eyes of –
The same dwarf from yesterday morning. “She left just before false dawn,” says Auger. “Let’s go.”
Again the two dwarves journey to the same clearing, where they practice this axe kata-esque series of exercises. Grumble plies the dwarf with questions, but Auger will only say that he is here to train him.
Afterwards, Grumble walks back into the village and spies a note tacked to the door of Cora’s cabin. It reads simply:

Grumble-

You really are a warrior!

Wolves never look back.

-C.

When everyone is gathered around the breakfast table in the common house, Quirky stands up and makes an announcement to the group. He tells them that Badger has given him a new name, and so asks that he now be known as Audric. He does not tell them the more personal name that Badger gave him. This name she gave was Lunavenn, meaning “beloved companion,” using the same name fragment as her own personal name, Lunhedia.
Feeling much rested, the party sets out towards Brindinsford. Nialia sits uneasily in her saddle, a feeling of wrongness growing in her mind as they get closer to the city. Soon it becomes apparent that they will not reach the city by nightfall, so they make camp off the road.
During the night, Rowan’s watch is interrupted by a patrol of two rangers who are keeping an eye on travelers on the road. The three rangers converse briefly, then the patrol fades back into the night.
In the morning Grumble’s personal trainer comes to him once more and drags him away from their campsite. Rowan sees none of this, only looks around a second later to find Grumble’s bedroll empty.
Today Grumble is finding it difficult to perform up to the exacting standards of Auger. Auger sighs and concedes that perhaps a demonstration is in order to show what good the exercises are doing. Auger leaps at Grumble, who automatically finds his body assuming the positions he’s been learning. Grumble parries blow after blow, moving from stroke to stroke in a combat that is more dance than anything else. The tempo increases until Grumble trips over a root and goes sprawling. Auger does not follow, merely stands there. Grumble sees that this may well be beneficial to him. Returning to camp, a confused Rowan asks him where the hell he was. He looks at her and produces a few fat pheasants that he’d caught on the way back to camp. Rowan is confused, but puts it aside as rest of the party awakes.
They reach the city walls well before mid-day, yet already a line has formed outside the Northwestern gate of the city. Three bored but competent guards are checking the wagons that are entering the city for the annual Halfling Street Faire, as well as “peace-bonding” all weapons being brought into the city. This process involves securing a weapon to it’s sheath, or throwing a hood over quivers or axeheads. Also, clerics are asked to secure their holy symbol so it may not easily be brought to bear. Lastly, spellcasters are asked to bind their middle and ring fingers together with a thin leather thong. This is a common pratice throughout many cities, and is meant as a pledge of good faith that weapon-bearers will not cause trouble.
But there are always those who balk at such restrictions. Such are the two half-orc barbarians that wait in line perhaps 30 feet in front of the party. When the guards ask them to bind their weapons, they begin arguing loudly with the guards. The situation turns ugly when one of the barbarians punches one guard and draws his weapon and cuts the leg of another.
The party rushes to the aid of the guards, who are quickly being overpowered by the brutal savagery of the two half-orcs. All three guards are down by the time Grumble attacks the first of the barbarians. Audric rushes to heal the guards, for two of them are dying from their wounds. Nialia stands back, casting while Rowan snipes their foes with her bow as terrified faire-goers run for cover. Grumble and Badger work as an impressive duo, flanking the half-orcs. The guards, before falling, cried that the party not kill the barbarians, but in the heat of battle, Grumble slices one nearly in half. Nialia’s spells manage to drop the other without killing him just as Audric finishes restoring the guards.
The guards, grateful beyond measure to be alive, assure the party that no penalty will be assigned them for the “accidental” death of the one barbarian. One of the guards, to express his gratitude, tells the adventurers that his brother runs an inn, and will put them up free of charge.
Seeing the crowds that throng the streets of the faire, the party decides that this invitation is quite the windfall. Securing their lodgings at the Shield and Shingle Inn (a place that looks much more refined than it’s name would imply), they travel the crowded streets to the barracks to collect their pay.
They wait for a while to see Lieutenant Shella, but when she arrives, it is with the Baron’s sister, Baroness Eriana Euphemes. The baroness apologizes that her brother could not reward them in person, but that they have the gratitude of the house of Euphemes. She doubles the reward money promised to the party, thanks them again, and leaves. Shella, seeing that the party has gathered the head of the orc chieftain and over thirty ears besides, grudgingly cuts the party some slack. She even salutes them as she leaves, though she does collect the tabards and badges given the party now that they are no longer representing the city. The party leaves the barracks with peace-bonded weapons and heavy pockets.
Splitting up, the party decides to spend a day or two enjoying the faire. Audric and Badger run off to find how many things on sticks they can find to eat. Grumble goes in search of a blacksmith, and Rowan and Nialia look at magic items and weapons.
Rowan, hoping perhaps that Potter is here at the fair, checks stall after stall, but does not see him. Someone else sees her, however, and Rowan finds herself being embraced by a strange older man who claims not to have seen her since she was very little. She remembers him after some thought as a bard who was a good friend of her father. The bard, named Bruge Corbett, invites Rowan and her companions to dinner at his estate later that evening, and Rowan agrees.
Grumble, meanwhile, finds himself off the path of the faire, at a large dwarven weapons shop and smithy. Everyone in town has recommended this place as being not only the best in the city, but possibly the best in the kingdom of Fall. It is a place known only as “the smithy” run by an ancient dwarven lady named Shooma and her son.
Grumble asks Shooma, who is sitting in a sturdy wooden rocking chair smoking her pipe, if she knows anything about his axe. Taking it, she is silent for many moments. Then, in the clear, strange cadence of Court Dwarfish, she tells the tale of creation, the making of the first dwarf, and the first Goldenaxe. After that, she hands the axe back to a confused Grumble, saying that this is all she can say about his weapon.
Other than a few purchases, and a pickpocket attempt on Badger that Audric deftly foils, the party has an enjoyable day. Meeting back at the Shield and Shingle, Rowan informs the party of the offer for supper. She phrses it in a way that makes Gurmble uninterested in attending until Audric unwittingly makes Rowan inform everyone that this is a man who knew her as a wee elfling. At this point Grumble gets a huge grin on his face and states that nothing would please him more than to attend the dinner.
Badger, with some help from Rowan, finally gets the chance to wear the kirtle she’s kept at the bottom of her pack. Given as a going-away present from a close friend, it looks stunning on her. Rowan assists with tying the gnome’s hair in ribbons and the two head back downstairs. Badger is pleased at Audric’s reaction (fortunately the boy was not holding anything he could have dropped on his foot), and the group heads off to Bruge’s house.
Bruge and his wife Chlyra (also a bard retired from adventuring) have settled here and run a successful theatre in one of the better districts in town. They prepare a lovely feast for the party. When asked about the Baron, Bruge says that the man is a stern but competent ruler; much more attentive to the aristocracy than to the merchants, but he’s a proud man. The city has prospered under his rule, and that’s pretty much the best one can hope for.
Before the party leaves, Bruge gives a gift to Rowan. Once, Bruge and Chlyra had a daughter, born around the same time as Rowan. The two girls played together as toddlers and young children. But when their daughter was eight, she contracted a fatal illness and died. Rowan’s father Larredon had given the Corbett’s a present for their daughter when she became of age: an exquisite elven rapier. Bruge now gives the sword to Rowan with his blessing. Rowan is stunned, and graciously accepts the finely crafted enchanted elven blade.
Walking back towards their inn, the faire is about to end for the night, as the sun has just finished setting in the west. Suddenly they realize that the shouts of revelry have turned to screams of terror. Nialia looks over the heads of the crowd and sees, in the flickering torchlight, two stringy-haired men turning into wererats in their hybrid form. She watches in horror as they rip the throat out of one hapless city guard, and set upon another. The party struggles forward against the surging mass of faire-goers stampeding in the other directions. Most of the party has left their primary weapons and armor back at the inn. But they cannot just stand idly by, so they begin shouldering their way to the center of the carnage…