5punk

I can do friday, I'll saturgame instead (I do anyway).

Friday!

What kinda time is good for people? I figure 9pm, but I'm happy to start earlier so we can get more in before people wanna dip off to sleep.

I might struggle to make 9, but feel free to make a start. I shouldn't be much later than that.

Thanks for playing, guys!

I'll get a write-up and XP over to you over the weekend.

Cheers Grimmie - top notch bearding!

Thanks again, guys!

The "Bag of tricks" adventure nets you 250xp each, and the barrows gets you 470xp each, for a total of 720xp per player. Well done!

Errol takes the loaned weapons back from you when you get back to the cart. They're all dumped in an open crate with "for cleansing" written on the side in black paint, with St Cuthbert's sigil painted more neatly beneath it. Bill, your driver, is in the marquee tent eating breakfast, and on your return he places a few more skewers of glazed pork on a rack up against the camp fire.

Bill Brassknuckles wrote:All right, lads?

Cheers Grimmie! Enjoyable as ever. I'm looking forward to fighting something that's alive though

Shankley wrote:Morning Bill. Long night. Mind if we...?

Shankley gestures at the pork.

Bill Brassknuckles wrote:Help yourself, lad. 'Nother day till we reach the city, sooner if we eat on the hoof, so I'm cooking up lunch n' dinner now.

Errol seems contemplative of the day's events, and chooses to sit outside of the tent. Despite being fresh-faced himself, he has to make the report to his superiors on Forenrond's ability to do good in the eyes of St. Cuthbert.

Cue flashback sequence.

Our adventurers left Alysia and Elliot on the plains and continued to travel towards Lochfield Barrows. Glibberig uses a little local knowledge to recognise that there used to be a town nearby which exclusively used the barrows long ago, but has since disappeared off the map entirely, left to ruin. Nobles and great war heroes hailing from Siriath get buried here now - and the priests aren't shy about levering an old, crumbling skeleton out of its grave to make way for a new high-paying patron.

The party are heading towards two of the southernmost barrows in the complex whilst more prepared parties tackle the northern ones, which travellers had reported seeing Wights lurking around. Forenrond asks Errol if they're aware of what's causing the dead to rise and Wights to emerge, but he's none the wiser. The parties are being sent to clean out anything untoward and return the bodies to their graves before priests can investigate further.

The first barrow is a circular affair on the outside, and after Glibberig illuminates the long, stony passageway using a stone with Light cast on it, Errol follows the party with Light similarly cast on his shield. At least Thor will be able to see, now. Taking the first passage to their left the party find six sarcophagi, three with lids levered off. Orovan teasingly pokes one of the fleshy corpses with his shortspear, but the undead inside clutches his spear as he thrusts it towards him.

A fight breaks out, and two more zombies rise from their open grave. Errol's nowhere to be seen until the very last moment, but they're no match for the party. There's nothing particularly remarkable about them, other than the fact they seem quite fresh for a set of ancient barrows. Moving on, Errol scouts ahead and finds a room to the right of the passage. Illuminating it reveals there's a ton of rubble - broken casks and the barrow wall crumbling - and a solitary chest off to one side. Glibberig bravely strides inside and a huge black ceiling-squid drops on to his head and proceeds to strangle him. (The DM is reminded that he needs to simplify Grapple rules again.)

Everyone takes a swing at Glib's face-extension, but the Darkmantle shifts its 30lbs of body weight to and fro, taking Glibberig with it. Just as things start to look bleak it's wrestled from the bard's head and thrown to the floor where it's ready for some stabbing. Errol, assessing the situation, takes a step back towards the chest and is just about to remind the party to look where they're going - but he too gets a Darkmantle chewing on his waxed-back blonde hair. Even after the party save him the cleric denies them the right to pop open the chest full of heirlooms and gifts meant for the afterlife, and sends them along their way.

The next barrow is pill shaped and has a wider, south-facing entrance. Light streams and illuminates a number of gravestones that detail the brave exploits those buried within are famous for, and the date of their death (hundreds of years ago). There are mounds of disturbed earth dotted around, and when one of the party draws near a huge mottled black and green centipede springs forth, hissing and mashing its mandibles together. Moments later another springs up, each the size of a large dog - and finally an enormous mammoth sized centipede swings out from around the corner to greet the team. There's a tense stand off where Orovan attempts to calm them, but neither agitates nor soothes them. Ultimately they were saved from being swarmed by the mother and their young by simply not disturbing or harming them.

Deeper inside the barrow are shallow graves, and at the presence of a holy Cleric entering their "resting" place, skeletons begin to emerge. Most notable are two that wear armour; one carries a shining longsword, the other an ornate crossbow. Battle breaks out and Errol finally tries his hand at turning undead - failing the first two attempts whilst the team bludgeon their way through skeletons. As Glibberig strums a merry tune from the back Sweetlips is spurred in to action, and tears several of them to pieces. Errol eventually blasts the longsword weilding skeleton with a Turn Undead and it gets scattered around the place. Forenrond lands the final blow, pushing his longsword through one of the skeletons to snap it in two.

Glibberig uses his advantageous position carrying up the rear to sneak off to the side and pop a chest open. It has a set of clothes, an amulet, a pocket watch and a painting inside. He grabs the amulet and watch, pockets them, and joins everyone else as they make their way outside.

The whole ordeal probably doesn't take much more than a few hours, and the party set back towards Bill just as he's eating breakfast. You're pretty much caught up.

Errol's easing the Darkmantle spit from his hair and wiping it on the grass.

Glibberig, your loot:

The amulet is made from pewter, and appears mostly clean and free of marks from being held in the chest. It's in the shape of a seashell. Upon further inspection a latch at the back opens the shell, revealing a glistening, pristine silver pearl fixed in the middle. The inside contains a sentence written in Elvish script.

The pocket watch is made from a white metal, but it's slightly tarnished. The mechanism has stopped working.

Hmm. Wish we'd bagged those fancy weapons now, not that I use either. Maybe we'll find a reason to go back again.

Shankley's back in his home city now, but not really into the idea of meeting up with the crowd who got him nearly sent to jail in the first place. Instead he's going to be poking about the adventurer haunts and the magical curio shops, doing a little detective work and trying to find out if anyone knows what's been going on at the barrows to make the dead rise. Shankley's not the smoothest talker though, and a possible stakeout of the barrows would be safer with support, so any help from the others would be appreciated. Might lead somewhere, might not, but it's something to focus his attention on until chance throws us something else.

Dog Pants wrote: Shankley's not the smoothest talker though, and a possible stakeout of the barrows would be safer with support, so any help from the others would be appreciated. Might lead somewhere, might not, but it's something to focus his attention on until chance throws us something else.

Orovan hates the idea of those poor *defenseless centipedes having to fight for their life against the undead and will gladly help


*maybe not so

Glibberig is currently thrilled. Not with the loot, for material wealth is fleeting (sic transit gloria Glibberig), but more with the heroic performance of Sweetlips - Dreadhound of the Barrows.

Glibberig wrote:A volunteer! I need a volunteer! Someone with a good voice - Thor! You look like you are a splendid baritone so you'll do. OK, I need you to say "puppets and puppeteers" very quickly with a brief pause every second phrase. Got that? Then take it away maestro!

Sweetlips
Gonna get to grips
With some jaws and some femurs
And some skeleton hips

Underground
Digging around
Centipedes back up
Cos you're gonna be found

With my party at the front
And Errol at the back
Sweetlips is gonna get you
With a biting attack

Huh!


Well, I've always wanted to try something a bit different and I think I've got something there. Thor? Thor! You can stop now, you're face is going blue.

Later in the Elf pub Glib will write a copy of the Elven text and ask for a translation from a well disposed regular.

Thor wrote:uuh, puppet 'an puppt 'an...uuh?

He seems to be concentrating quite hard.

At the climax he jerks back to attention and loudly applauds.

Thar's a mighty fine hound alright!

Roman Totale wrote:Later in the Elf pub Glib will write a copy of the Elven text and ask for a translation from a well disposed regular.

Why go to the effort when you have a half-elf sat with you?

The Elf Pub? Didn't I mention you're continuing north to the city of Siriath? Perhaps not.

This wasn't a return journey - Errol's taking Forenrond back to the Temple of St. Cuthbert in the city so he can get (or not, perhaps) his pardon. By the time you see the huge circular wall in the near distance the autumn sun is beginning to set.

Siriath is a vast city surrounded by a deep oxbow lake of a moat. Glibberig has heard of the old, paranoid King Erik that used to rule from here some centuries ago, who demanded his court wizards diverted the adjacent river around the entire city for better protection. Poking above the wall (coming from the south, as you are) is a huge central keep that keeps watch over the plains for miles around.

An amateur bardic poem wrote:Poor mad-king Erik,
In his peuce and green coat,
Demanded his wizards,
Dug a bloody big moat.

Poor mad-kind Erik,
His paranoia grew worse,
He travelled the city,
In a modified hearse.

Poor mad-king Erik,
In his fortified keep,
Fell off the tower,
Whilst walking in sleep.

The city's simply led by a Mayor and his council these days, and they operate from the keep.

You approach the city from the south east and travel through a vast, sprawling camp of Halflings. Forenrond is familiar with the traveller camps, but they've grown three-fold since he's last seen them. There are now enormous big tops that stretch in to the sky, and all sorts of figures are moving to and fro in droves.

To your left are a couple of tall towers that sit on the outside of the city's moat, connected to the walls by a precarious sky bridges, these are the famous Gnomish universities the city boasts, there are five in total if you count the joint University of Fine Arts whose professors are almost entirely Elven.



(University of Cosmology)

Bill roughly outlines the city's main districts verbally so you get an idea of where to go once you're inside the walls. He also recommends "The Crying Harlot" as a cheap inn in which to rest your heads and get a bite to eat and a bit of drink. It's near the Orcish Markets, (a name that's misleading, as they're largely populated by Half-Orcs, rather than pure Orcs, but it's easier to say) which is a bit of a poor area, but not the worst.



You pass through the caravan district briefly - a collection of ornately decorated mobile markets where bargains get dealt by sly merchants - before turning in towards the city gates. The gates are nearly as tall as the library back in Orhedge, and a line of crossbowmen line the parapet, guarding the city. Bill stops on the outside and gives a fond farewell to you all, offering up a tightly bound leather bag of salted beef in return for your good company on the journey - along with a few smaller treats for Sweetlips.

The hearing isn't due till tomorrow morning, so you're free to potter around for the night. Errol gives directions from the main gate to find the temple if any of you wish to lodge there tonight, and so you can find it at sun-up, tomorrow.

Too much?

Absolutely not too much, I love it. I saw it on my phone the first time and didn't see the right side of the map. I am now very curious about the University of Planar Exploration.

I'll stay in the temple if they're welcoming enough to let me. I'm in no rush to do anything else until the hearing.

Not at all, that's actually rather awesome.

Thor doesn't remember what happened too well, he wakes in a inn bed somewhere in the city with vague recollections of clapping and whooping at Sweetlips dancing on the inn's table on his hind legs, which he puts down to a dream owing to his tiredness and near-death experience in the barrows.

He'll try to make his way to where the hearing is once he's actually worked out what inn he ended up in.

Thor wrote:Puppt..er.pruppert..

He shakes his head vigorously to clear his thoughts.