Wick pressed his way through the fog, the damp wall guiding his way, though he could feel the wetness start to affect the glove he wore.  Pushing through this fog, he came into a room, seeing a man in tawny robes, flanked by a gnoll and several men.  A brilliant display of light emerged from the robed man's hand, and that was the last thing that registered to Wick before his world went dark.  Bonelessly, Wick crumpled to the ground.

 23:31, Today: DM, on behalf of Wick, rolled 14 using 1d20 ((14)). save vs spell

"Bind him," said Eliphas, gesturing negligently.  "And take my gloves back."

Obediently, Quade, who had come down the passage to give the warning, tied Wick up, removing the gloves that Wick wore before depositing the bound man upon the pile of fabric bolts resting on a wooden platform.

Eliphas took his gloves back from Quade, and then said, "Enough of this."  He turned and spoke again.

[Language unknown: "Ic un, mento aiolmo u ticredhas ri utfial esswasill, her ou ntilch'naro the iv.  Ck ar lill o hile ateintble ilolssut."]

From some rough shaking, and judging by the sting in his face some slaps, Wick came back to, finding himself bound and laying on a pile of bolts of fabric.

Wick does what he can to cover his face.  As soon as he's more or less aware, he starts trying to take stock of his situation.  He'd gone through the fog, had seem some people, saw the bright light, then nothing until he was slapped awake.

He looks around, taking stock.  He's bound up, the gloves have been taken and he's laying on a bunch of cloth all wrapped up in bolts.  He holds off doing anything that might draw attention to himself for the moment.

"Finally!" Anrai's voice was more a hoarse whisper, but he started quickly down to bottle the people who'd come into his home between his group on one side and Eliphas and the other half of the crew.  He made a gesture for the rest of the group in the hall to follow him.

---

Anrai led the way, now that the other group had passed, into the larger chamber.  Here they would see Westin with an unconscious Quade atop the bound Wick; the gnoll standing beside Eliphas, and the other three men of the group all ready to do battle.  On the ground were Storm who had been knocked over by Telemachus, with Lenelle, Vendavel, and Panatix on their feet facing Eliphas and his companions.

---

"Anrai and Tad," said Eliphas, "go up and make sure they have left, and close the door."

He turned next to the wounded Toran, and pulled out a small vial from a pouch at his waist.  "Drink this," he instructed.

"Dak, do you have any other business to attend to?" Eliphas said.  "It might be useful to know if they intend to come back, or send others, now that they have seen the valuables we have here.  But it was a good job, sending them off.  A bonus of six asil for today for each of you, I think."

"I do have a few things on the boat," Dak admitted grudgingly.  He really didn't want to leave his friend alone at a time like this if those thieves did try again.

He could probably beat them back to the boat as they had injured.  If he left his armor here and ran cross country, he could probably do it.  Take what was his and return without incident.  It wasn't likely they'd try anything in their current state before he returned.  But as Eliphas said, they could send others more immediately.  Spin whatever twisted tale they needed to cause undeserved grief.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.

"Let's go upstairs," said Eliphas.  "I realize that there may be some efforts to keep you from returning, but it would be very useful to me to know if they, or others, are likely to be returning."

Eliphas led the way up to the barracks room, where the two men he had sent up before were untying a gnoll and seemed to be trying to wake him.  One of the beds had an open, empty footlocker at its foot.

Eliphas continued to his room, pulling a box out from under the desk, seeming pleased that no one had bothered it during the earlier searching.

"Here," he said, handing Dak six silver asil.  "You have earned this much already.  Now ..."  He walked to the trap door and said, "Fusta."

The trapdoor opened easily--Dak might well remember how it had not opened before, but the parrot had been flying around saying "password".

"If you come up these steps," said Eliphas, leading the way into the room which Dak remembered having been in before--the fireplace and the door leading to a visibly overgrown patio and a pile of trash in one corner.  "You should return this way.  The word to open the door is fusta."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:06, Mon 27 Apr 2020.

"I'll be faster without this armor," Dak suggested.  "I'll leave it in that empty chest until I return with what news I can find out."

His plan was still to pass them cross country while they were on the road, take his share from the boat, and then see if he could spy out what the thieves' next move would be.

If there was time, he could buy an old cloak with a hood for a disguise as he shadowed them.

"If you wish," said Eliphas.  "That open footlocker will be yours here."  Eliphas returned to the barracks room, and said, "Would you wish to borrow something for the journey?  Another's armor or cloak, perhaps?"

"A cloak, yes," Dak replied, shrugging out of his mail.  That stuff was heavy!

"I'd like a little bit of a disguise in case they might spot me.  And a backpack if you have one to spare."

He kept his sword and dagger, but deposited much of the rest into the chest.  He'd stow the javelin outside somewhere as he left.  Although he trusted Eliphas and his men, he wasn't so sure about the two gnolls.

Anrai stepped over to a different bed, opening the footlocker, and he said, "Ya can borrow my cloak."  He brought out a cloak of gray kersey which still had a faint scent of kapnos clinging to the fabric.  While he was a little taller than Dak, the cloak would only be a little past Dak's knees while it was knee length to Anrai.

"Thank you, this will do nicely," Dak said as he swung the cloak around his shoulders.  "I'll be off then to see what plans those scoundrels are making!"

He jogged over to the stairs and uttered the password to release the trap door.  Gaining the house, he set off through the fields and wood at a jog.  Wounded and armored, he should easily be able to pass them by before they returned to town.

Moving through the grounds of the house, Dak emerged past the wall and through some more growth before reaching the road to Monteci.  Looking back, he could see the group Eliphas had permitted to leave at the roadside bandaging up wounds.  It was in the afternoon, but by hurrying, Dak could feel reasonably certain of returning to the house before sunset.  Of course, the return would be slower with the plates and silver and the large number of coins that remained his share.

He'd hoped to come out further along the road, but he was probably far enough they wouldn't recognize him in his disguise.  They'd have no reason to accost a lone traveler on the road.

Nonetheless, he kept his pace up and tried to put some distance between them.  He'd need the time to collect what he'd left on the boat before the others returned.

Thinking of the boat, he contemplated sinking it.  Eliphas had a ship and these pirates might try to chase them down.  If he sank the boat, it would ensure they'd have no problems on that front.  It was something for him to think about on the long walk back to town.

With little more event on the way, Dak made his way into Monteci.  It was late afternoon and the fishing boats were starting to come in, but he could also see the Ananke sitting right where it had been.  People in town were in the streets, going about their business, but Dak did not seem to be drawing anyone's attention.

His first task was to purchase a backpack to carry his share of the gold and treasure.  He thought he'd seen a general store around.  He would pop in, get the backpack, and then to the ship.  From what he'd seen on the road, the others were well behind him.  It had been a good idea to leave his heavy armor behind.

He was still undecided on whether to sink the ship.

As Dak made inquiries about a backpack, he was told the best place to go was to Brendan's leatherworks, which was past the docks and across a bridge.  There, a sturdy leather backpack could be had for 30 asil.  In passing the docks, he noticed enough activity that made attempting to sink a ship seem an activity more likely to get him locked up.

Disappointed that the decision on whether he could sink the ship was made for him, Dak strode quickly past to reach the leather worker before the others caught up.  This was taking too long and the others weren't that slow.

Dak completed his purchase at the leathersmith's shop.  It had not been hard to find the place, located on the edge of town where most prevailing winds would take the odor of the tanning work further inland.  The backpack itself was a fine piece of work, soft tanned leather with brass buckles, and a capacity which would more than contain Dak's share of the treasure from the island along with all the other goods he had acquired.

The harbormaster--a man, dressed in studded leather with a stout club hanging from his belt whom Dak had seen when he departed the boat--was walking along the pier as the fishermen were bringing their boats in.

"You're one of the Ananke's crew, aren't you?" asked the harbormaster.  "Where's your captain?"

"The Captain went inland for the day," Dak replied, taken aback that he'd already been recognized in his disguise.  Perhaps he should be wearing it with the hood up.

"I expect him back later today with the rest of them."

"Ah," replied the harbormaster, "so you'll be staying aboard ship or back to the Cat and Custard Pot?"

"The Cat and Custard," Dak replied automatically.  He certainly wasn't going to wait on the ship for the others to find him.  He also wasn't going to stay at the inn where they'd also likely find him.

He'd find somewhere to skulk nearby and keep an eye out.  They couldn't be that far behind him now and he needed to get his share and get out.

After the harbormaster had left to talk to some of the fishermen coming in, there was nothing in the way of going aboard ship and gathering his share of coin and other possessions.  From there, he could easily take the walk toward the Cat and Custard Pot--maybe even go inside for an ale before slipping away back toward the house.  For now, there were no signs of others returning from the house.

Dak headed back toward the inn.  He had the hood of his disguise up this time, learning from his earlier failure.

He kept a wary eye out for them as they couldn't have been too far behind him.  They were in no shape to sleep in the wild when they were so close to town.

He'd find some hidden perch and watch for them to return to town.

As time passed, he still saw no sign of the others.  Perhaps they had stopped at the church at the edge of town and not gone further, or something else had befallen them.  At any rate, the sun continued its progress across the sky and Vespers was approaching.  If Dak left Monteci now, he could get back to the house before darkness fell without much difficulty.

---

Presumably, Dak has retrieved his share of things from the ship?

Perhaps they had gone directly to the church.  The most injured had been an acolyte, or something, there.

Hefting the heavy pack, Dak set out toward the church to see if they'd stopped there for the night.  If they weren't there and didn't show up before darkness fell, he'd have to retrace his steps back to the inn for the night.

Could something have befallen them on the way back?  He'd hiked the same road they would without mishap.  Unless some bandits let by a lone traveler and beset larger groups.  In their condition, they'd be no match for little more than a few ruffians.

He really didn't want to see them dead, though.  Just out of Eliphas' way.  Setting his jaw, he stomped in the direction of the church and hoped they'd be there.

As Dak approached the church, he could see some of the smaller acolytes heading out to ring the Vespers bell.  These were two youths dressed in a simple clerical robe who appeared to be between the ages of 10 and 12.

Dak waved to the young acolytes and approached.  These two would know if an injured group came to stay at the church.

"Hello there," he called once close enough.  "Has anyone come in as a group today?"

The younger of the acolytes waved happily back to Dak, but shook his head.  "No, we haven't had anybody coming here since the fair."

Dak thanked the two and made his way back to the main road.  He didn't think they'd slipped past him so they must either be still on the road, holed up somewhere, or dead in the ditch.  Either way, it looked like he was headed back to the house.

He turned away from the town and started back toward the house.

As Dak left Monteci, he could hear the Vespers bell behind him.  Hurrying along the road, he was able to come to the grounds of the house before the light of day faded away completely.  Somehow, it seemed that the others had managed to hole up out of sight, for he did not see them on his return trip from Monteci.

A little disappointed he hadn't been able to find them, Dak headed back into the house to use the password on the trapdoor.  He was careful to ensure he wasn't being followed before whispering the code.

Maybe Eliphas would have an idea where they went.

As Dak descended the stairway, he saw the two gnolls and the rest of the men sitting around a table eating a stew that looked like it was made from ham and peas--more peas than ham, to be sure.  Eliphas, however, was not at the table.

"Hey, you made it back," said Anrai.  "Get you a bowl and set down if ya didn't eat while ya was away."  Waving a spoon at the gnolls, he added, "And these are Gryk and Gex.  And ya know Cadan and Osgar.  And that's Toran and Quade and Tad and Ivar."

Although Toran had been rather badly injured when Dak last saw him, as the man ate his dinner now it seemed that he was as hale as he had ever been.

"Let me stow this pack," Dak replied, waving to his comrades.  He went to his bunk and lay the heavy pack inside.  No need tempting the others by making a jingling racket of it.  He had his javelin back as well, so he tossed that onto his bed.

"I didn't see those thieves either in town or along the road," he explained as he grabbed a bowl to sample the soup.  "They either holed up somewhere along the road or I missed them in town.  So I'm not sure what they're up to."

He was disappointed he hadn't been able to do better, but they were an unpredictable bunch.

"Figures they'd be sneaky like that," said Quade.  "Course, new guy gets to do clean up after dinner."

The soup was hearty enough, though rather bland in taste.

"Course, you probably better at it than that girl," said Toran.  "Never did figure why Eliphas took her on.  Not like she could handle moving stuff, but she always complained what she did all the work and she didn't do none of it."

"I figger we beat 'em back so hard, they're all running back to their mothers," said Anrai, "an' won't bother no one no more."

"Sure, I can clean up," Dak agreed readily.  "Just show me where to go."

It seemed only fair that he'd clean up after someone else had cooked.  And it sounded like he'd be cleaning up for a while to earn his place on the team.  He had to admit he hadn't made the best impression so far.  He failed to land a blow during the fight and returned without any knowledge of where the thieves ran off to.

Hopefully Eliphas took effort into account when his results were less than unimpressive.

"Yeah, I'll show you about," said Anrai.

The meal continued, as the others in the group were discussing how the fight had gone.  Dak noted that when they spoke of their contributions, they seemed to be rather embellishing the results, sounding like they were more effective than had actually been the case, even though they had been adequate to the task.

When the meal was over, Anrai said, "So you can take that big pot down, and we'll get water on that you can heat up for cleaning."

Leading the way back down below, Anrai gestured to the right of the stairs, and said, "Don't go thataway, there's green slime growing in that cave and it'll eat the skin right off yer bones.  But this way ..."  He continued to the first hallway leaving the main hall.  "Sometimes, if it quiet enough, you can sneak a drink down there."

He continued on, leading Dak down the same hall where they had waited to let the thieving group ahead, but continued past the last curve.  Here, the smell of sea and what smelled rather like a latrine struck the nose.  The hall opened up into a small cavern.  An obvious high water mark could be seen on the floor, although the tide seemed to be coming in and only a foot remained between the current level of water and that mark.

Pulled up on the floor, a large stone sitting on the line leading from the boat as an anchor, was a small boat--large enough for eight rowers, with a single mast and furled sail.

"You can get the water for cleaning down here," said Anrai.  "And over there in the corner, that's where ya go."  He walked over to that area, which seemed to be a few boards set over the stone.  "Eliphas got some ugly thing down that hole that eats shit."

Eliphas had really put together a great hideout.  Secret entrances, clean water supply, and almost undetectable.

Dak dipped the large pot into the water and waddled with it back the way they'd come.

"How long have you been here?" Dak grunted under the weight of his load.

"I been working for Eliphas for about a year," replied Anrai.  "Didn't think I'd like living underground at first, but things was a little hot for me.  But it ain't that bad, he's fair an' set the place up pretty nice.  I think he been here four years all told, that what Gex says."  Anrai continued back up the way to the barracks, and said, "Already like ya better than that girl.  Ya carry yer own water."

"She seemed to jump ship pretty quick, too," Dak added of Vendavel's flimsy allegiance.  "Seems like a pretty nice setup here as well.

"Has anyone else come knocking upstairs before now?"

"Ain't had no one come on through," said Anrai.  "Couple times, someone set off the screaming thing that Eliphas set on the stairs into that cellar, but they always made tracks out right fast.  Eliphas said he's gonna toughen that up, make sure no one get through again.  Don't know how anyone did before, anyhow."

Dak wanted to explain how they'd come to the house and why, but he didn't want the guys to know that he'd been taken in by those thieves to join their group.  It was embarrassing.

"Well once in four years is really good," Dak replied.  "It's an effective hideout Eliphas' put together here."

He set the pot on the fire to heat up and stretched his arms.  That hike was quite a workout with a pot full of water.

As Anrai and Dak returned to the barracks room, the others had cleared the dishes to one end to make room for a card game.  Several in the group had also taken out pipes and started smoking.

Dak was having second thoughts about bringing all the asil and plates down here.  He should have stashed them outside somewhere as he had the javelin.  He wasn't thinking these guys would go through his stuff, but it would be extremely tempting if someone happened to notice what was in his locker.  It was something he'd have to think about.

At the moment, though, there was a card game to watch and he had some time before the water heated up.  He went over to see what they were playing.  He'd been known to play a good hand or two back at the village.

The game being played seemed to be one of the many varieties of poker-like games, with one of the gnolls working as dealer and the others passing cards back and forth, pushing kippers into the center of the table, and occasionally setting the cards down and letting the others continue on.   Those smoking pipes continued to do so, while they all seemed to be nursing a mug of the rather watery ale that they had.  Meanwhile, the water heated as Dak watched the group.

"I don't think I've played this game before," Dak commented.  "Is it easy to learn?"

Maybe he knew a little more about cards than he was letting on, but he needed to lose some coin.

"Mebbe not so easy," said Ivar.  "But ya can get dealt in next hand."

"Smart o' ya, not wearing that clanking armor," said Toran.  "What kinda work you do afore?"

"Caravan guard," Dak lied to Ivar.  He wasn't going to say he was just a fisherman.  Fisherman didn't have matching sword and dagger with chain as nice as he had.

After he said it, though, he wasn't sure how many caravans there were among the islands.  Ship caravans?  Maybe he should have said something else, but he couldn't think of anything else on the spot.

The men seemed satisfied with Dak's answer, and the games continued.  Eventually the water got hot enough for Dak to do the cleaning, and he was dealt in a few hands, the coins he wagered disappearing into the pot to be swept up by one of his new companions.  Eliphas still was not present, though.

The gnoll not dealing cards barked something, [Language unknown: "Ard com hatwertha."]

The gnoll dealing the cards--Gryk, Dak was fairly certain--the gnoll who had been in the room with Vendavel before the sleep spell had taken the two of them down--gathered up the cards.

"Sack time," said Quade, tamping down his pipe.

With some grumbling, the others pushed away from the table, except for Osgar, who seemed to have come out the most coins ahead of the rest, and headed over to their bunks.

Dak had lost 3 Asil worth of coin and thought the job well done.  If he'd won, someone might be tempted to look through his stuff for his winnings.  Having lost, everyone thought he didn't have very much.  He'd really have to find a stash somewhere.

"Good game," Dak conceded as he went to his own bunk to try it out.  He was happy to have found a good group to join up with under a strong and competent leader.

The bed was reasonably comfortable, perhaps not as nice as a bed in the Cat and Custard Pot, but certainly better than the bunk on the slaver's ship that he had escaped from just a week prior.  At least, as Dak drifted off to sleep, no one was snoring.

Morning came, or what could be presumed to be morning in the dark room.  As Dak awakened, he heard someone moving things about in the area of the table, and the stirring of others who seemed to be headed to table.  Most were in a state of half-dress, having bothered to pull on trousers and little else.  Some had nearly threadbare and patched chemises tucked into the trousers, and they were busy at hacking off bits of cheese and bread for their plates.

"C'mon, new guy," said Cadan, kicking at the foot of Dak's bed.  "Soon's ya eat, go down and get all the torches lit."

Dak pulled on his shirt and boots before joining the others for a quick breakfast.  And then, it seemed, off to light the torches.  Torch lighting sounded like it was going to be a repetitive job throughout the day.

The torches, as it turned out, were stored in a closet beneath the stairs with the warded password-protected door.  Each was considerably larger than the torches commonly sold for travelers, suggesting that it would last a good while once lit.  The others seemed to be content to eat more bread and cheese, washed down with another mug of ale and lazily get dressed when Dak set off to work below with the torchlighting for the day.

Dak went along replacing and lighting the new torches.  He'd scooped up about half a dozen for his first trip and collected the spent torches on the way back.  He'd ask one of the other guys what he should do with those.  Then he'd take another armload back to finish up.

Once again, he marveled at Eliphas' organization and leadership to have everything so well planned out.  He was looking forward to what came next.

When Dak had finished his task, piling the used torches in the box with firewood for the stove, he saw Eliphas in the main room as he entered from below.  With Eliphas was another man, half-elven in appearance with a very lean look.

The gnolls and the other men started heading down as soon as Dak cleared the doorway.

"Ah, Dak," said Eliphas, "was your trip to Monteci successful?"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:45, Wed 27 May 2020.

"I picked up my stuff from the boat," Dak conceded, "but I didn't see them in town or on the road.

"I think they camped out somewhere.  It doesn't look like they're going to give up that easily."

Dak was embarrassed his former group was causing so much trouble.  Couldn't they just give up before someone got hurt worse than they already had?

"Should they return, I will not offer the same mercy as I did before," said Eliphas, sounding fairly matter-of-fact.  "Now, there is another matter that I would like your assistance with.  Hewney," and here Eliphas gestured to indicate the half-elf present, "will be going to retrieve some items for me that I had commissioned, and he needs a strong escort to discourage any who would interfere with him on the road toward Shipton.  Will you do this for me?"

"Of course," Dak agreed quickly.  "Let me get my mail on and I'll be ready to go."

It seemed Eliphas hadn't lost faith in him after all.  This sounded like an important mission he couldn't screw up.  As fair as he was, Dak was sure too many failures would be even more than a man like Eliphas could ignore.

"Very good," said Eliphas.  "When you return, be sure to only come through these stairs."  He gestured to the password-warded trapdoor from the stairs in the room.  "I have increased the obstacles in the other way, and that way is rather ... mindless."

With that bit of advice given, Eliphas headed into his own room.

Dak hurried to put his mail on, strapping on both dagger and sword.  Swinging his own cloak over his shoulder, he remembered the one he borrowed and laid it on his bunk to be reclaimed.

He fretted about his backpack and thought about bringing it, but it was awfully heavy.  He'd already be weighed down by the mail and he was just getting used to that weight.

Thus settled, he strode quickly over to the half-elf Hewney and declared his readiness to depart.

"Good," said Hewney, and he led the way up the stairs through the trap door.  As they reached the road, turning along the way further from Monteci and toward Shipton, he said, "There will be times that I will want to go ahead.  That is a bit noisy, the stuff you wear."

Dak looked down at himself and thought he wasn't making that much noise.

"How about now?" he asked, trying to deliberately walk quieter by taking exaggerated steps and hugging the mail tunic to his chest with both arms.  "Is that better?"

"Well, you're human, you can't help it," said Hewney, sounding amused.  "So, things is a little more complicated that what I told Eliphas, and we need to stop off to pick up another friend of mine before we head up."

Expecting Dak to follow, Hewney continued along the road--it was a substantial hike, perhaps three hours of walking before they reached a small group of homes surrounded by fields, cows and the smell of a tannery, and another small home a little past that.  In the distance, the large town of Shipton's buildings could be easily seen.

"Do ya want to eat before we head up country?" Hewney asked.

"Yes, lets eat something first," Dak replied.  He was looking forward to something cooked by someone that knew what they were doing.

This half-elf seemed a nice sort, letting him help make the decisions like they were real partners.  Dak thought this was going to work out really well and showed how Eliphas surrounded himself with friends, where everyone was considered equals.

"That's good," said Hewney.

He led Dak to a small tavern.  A bar, which looked as though it had been made from oak, dominated the center of the room with a number of stools occupied by men who were busy eating their mid-day meal.  At one table, there were two people sitting, already having been served their food--an elven maiden and a half-elven young man.

"Alvador!" said Hewney, crossing the room to the table and taking a seat next to the man he had just named.  "Who's this you've found?  Still thinking of coming with me?  This is Dak--he's got a good recommendation for a fighting arm."

Alvador rose and held up a greeting palm when Dak and Hewney start to approach.  "Greetings, both," he said politely, his eyes moving from Dak's "fighting arm" to their faces. (Dak sees a half-elf with no weapon save a sling. He is polite enough, but there is an air of reserve—not atypical for a mage.) As they sat, he sat.

"This lady is Pathwyn na'Sylviis, a navigator and priestess of Veja. I had just mentioned you two and what you propose to do. Maybe you'd like to tell her; I'm hazy on the details. By the way, the fish and vegetable stew is quite good, and the bread is fresh." Accompanying Alvador's meal is herbal tea, a decoction from roasted chicory, blackberry leaves, dandelion leaves, and dried blackberries, often a restorative taken by invalids. This seemed strange, since Alvador—though not heavily muscled—appeared healthy, even robust.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:52, Mon 01 June 2020.

After being introduced, Pathwyn stood and offered a soft handshake and smile to both men.  "Dak, Hewney," she said in turn.  "Pleased to meet you."

The cheerful girl was dressed more like a human than an elf, in a blue and green gown.  She was unarmed.  This part of town was reasonably safe, after all.  She sat down and listen attentively to Hewney's description of what lay ahead.

Line

"It's nice to meet you all," Dak replied with a smile, proud that Eliphas had described him as a good fighting arm even though he'd flailed like a fish out of water in his first exhibition.  He sat down with them and tried to catch someone's attention to order the recommended bread and stew, along with an ale.

His first impressions were very positive about this group.  He actually felt out of place being so heavily armed among them.  Their confidence was a very good sign.

A man who looked to be well into his 50s, yet still looking vigorous and capable of settling a brawl if need be, came over to the table.

"What can I get for ya?" he said, looking from Dak to Hewney.

"Some stew and wine," said Hewney.  "And a bit of bread and cheese."

Hewney waited until after Dak had placed his order and the man had retreated to behind the bar to get the drinks.

"All right, so here's the way of things," he said, bringing out a parchment.  "I got here authorization to borrow some horses, it'll make the way a lot quicker, to get up to this tower about ten miles up country.  This mage was supposed to make some daggers for a friend of mine, but he kinda welched on things, so I been asked to get them.  What I didn't tell my friend--the mage had already met with some accident, and he's in one of the St Vallon shrines, but the mage done asked them at the shrine to get his spellbook out of the tower.  Don't know why he didn't take it with him, but I guess he got bad hurt in the accident.  He's offering three hundred asil to get his spellbook to him.  Don't see why you can't take a peek at it on the way, right, Alvador?  So you can maybe get something you don't have in yours and I guess three hundred splits four ways as well as three.  And then we get the daggers for my friend and there's more pay on that."

He fell silent as the man returned with the drinks, placing them before Hewney and Dak.

"I imagine we can sway another horse on it.  Writ's from the church folk," said Hewney after the man had returned to the kitchen.

Alvador appeared, if anything, to be reassured when seeing Dak's array. He listened with both ears to Hewney's recital. Then he took a slow, meditative draining of the tea mug. He set is down gently. (From all appearances, he seemed to relish it. "Think I'd pass on taking a peek without asking. Wizards are touchy about such things; and, while wizards are not dragons, meddlers in wizard's things are still tasty with ketchup. Some questions come to mind, but I'll defer to Lady Pathwyn."

Pathwyn thanked the old, but sturdy human for bringing her the wine she'd previously ordered.  It had a syrupy taste that reminded her of Eiswein.  She doubted it was local.  One of the delights of port cities was the variety of easily imported food and drink.

The mention of horses made Pythwyn's eyes brighten.  A chance to ride made this trip twice the treat.  One of her great joys, decades past, was thundering her strawberry roan through trackless light woods.  Rider and mount almost become one weaving between tress at speed.  What a rush!  Sadly, years aboard ships made owning a horse impractical, and Pathwyn missed it.


"The plan is simple and elegant and everyone profits.  You've got quite the mind for this, Hewney.  Cheers to you," she said hoisting her drink to the center of the table.

"Do you know the nature of the mage's accident?  If there's a danger still lurking in the tower it would be best to go in prepared."



"Very honorable of you.  Wise too.  Wizards have been known to place magical traps or even curses on their spellbook for protection.  I'm sure the mage will be grateful enough to share an arcane secret or two with you once we return his prized book.  What's his name?" she asked turning back to Hewney.

"Mage is named Gwysol," said Hewney.  "I don't know about any traps and such on books, figured that if it 'happened' to fall open, it wouldn't harm none to look.  Ain't like keeping it.  But I guess he oughta give permission if ya ask on it."


"So, might have to camp out, and can get some things if we need for that afore heading out," said Hewney.  "Just in case it take some time to get things settled.  He have some kinda explosion while he was working, said something about fire and ice, don't know much more than that, but sounded like it was just a one time blow up."

Alvador glanced at Pathwyn before his next words. "If you think we might need to camp, all I have is my cloak, flint and steel, and some trail rations. I do have a little money. What do you think we'll need to procure?"

When Hewney mentioned fire and ice and a one-time blow up Pathwyn leaned to Alvador and said "See?  The wrong truename."


On the topic of camping:
"I'm getting the picture now.  It might take us a while to find this spellbook and the daggers, huh?  I don't suppose we can all sleep in Gwysol's guest bedroom.  I've got weapons and armor at my lodgings, but I'll need a bedroll, rope, lantern, spikes, rations, and the like.  We should all pay the provisioner a visit."

Pathwyn looked at her remaining wine.  She contemplated slugging the rest of it back and pushing to get started, but the others still had some eating to do.  Why rush their lunch?  She settled into her chair and nursed the tasty spirit.

A bat poked its face out from a pocket to examine the two new arrivals. Alvador has saved a morsel of fish and a dollop of tea. He holds the offerings in each palm for the bat's dining convenience. "This is Chree. Should we need to camp and set watch, he can help. That'll be when he feeds. I sometimes wonder if, to him, I'm convenient bug bait."

This job sounded like it was going to take a lot longer than he'd expected.  He finished up his stew and ale so as not to hold them up.

He really hoped Hewney revealed they wouldn't need to camp.

"Bug bait," said Hewney.  "Might call you that from now on."  There was a teasing note to his voice as he spoke, before he turned more serious.

"Might be able to get back in the same day, might not--don't know if the guest room will be in any shape for us," said Hewney.  "Best to be ready.  So, who needs a bedroll?  And can pick up a week's worth of food, that'll be enough for all of us."

Alvord spoke up. "I could use one; cloak's a bit thin company on cold nights. Ten miles or so there; ten back. Not a one-day matter."

"Depends on the terrain," Pathwyn said offhandedly.  "On horseback, along roads, you could venture there and back twice in a day without even pushing the horses.  If you had to cross swampland you might not even get there by sundown.  Hewney wouldn't have gone to the bother of arranging the horses if the terrain was miserable, so I'm betting the ground will be mostly dry and clear."

Whether the boys were done with lunch or not, it was time for Pathwyn to move.  She finished off her wine and set a small coin as a tip next to her empty cup.

"Where's this provisioner, Hewney?  I'll arm up and meet you all there."

After she got her answer she split, turning back half way out the door for a friendly wave goodbye.

Dak would do without a bedroll.  Not that he was toughing it out, but he barely had enough coin to rub together.  He hadn't expected this to be a shopping trip.

"I'm ready to go if there's food," Dak said.

"Don't worry about it," said Hewney, "it can come out of your share--plenty of coin in it."  By now, he had finished with his food, and said, "So you can meet up at the stables, if you don't need anything more.  I'll go see about the food and a couple bedrolls.  Did you need one, Pathwyn?  Anyhow, stables are about quarter mile back toward the town."

Alvord said; after leaving his tip by piling Pathwyn's dishes and his together, taking her Billion and setting down a Kipper; "May I go with you, Hewney?"

"Of course," said Hewney, going to settle up the tab for himself and Dak.  "Ready to go, Dak?"

"Ready," Dak said, gulping down the last of his ale as he rose.  He hurried to stay close to the half-elf.

Alvador checked that Chree is safe and cozy. He patted his pockets and looked around to make sure he had everything. Then he followed Dak and Hewney out, waiting to see how the three will walk together.

Pathwyn will have reiterated that she needed a bedroll if Hewney asked her directly a second time.

Belatedly seeming to realize that Pathwyn had been giving a shopping list rather than going through things she meant to collect from wherever she might be staying, Hewney laughed, and invited her to follow along to the shop.

Bill settled at the tavern, Hewney led the way down past the stables and around the corner into a smaller street, and opened the door into a shop that was positively crammed with items--jars, rolled up blankets, rolled rugs spilling out of a wardrobe, and such that there were just very narrow aisles between the three-foot-high stacks.

"Good morn, Cyrus," said Hewney.  "Going to need three bedrolls, and whatever the other things my friends need.  I got this advance on a job we're off to."  He drew out a small pouch, and handed it to Dak.  "I got to get to my room and grab a few things myself.  Just come up to the stables--the ones we passed coming down here, and I'll meet you there."

"Right," Dak said, suddenly feeling the weight of being in charge as he accepted the pouch of coins.

"Three bedrolls and a week of provisions," he repeated nervously.  "And the things Pathwyn said, as well.

"Got it."

He turned back to the elven woman and suggested, "I'll get the bedrolls and provisions while you see what else we'll need."

(I don't think I'm there at Cyrus' emporium.  I've gotta go pick up my weapons and put on my armor.  I know Dak understands that takes a while.  I'll probably meet you at the stables.)

Dak turned around and realized the elven woman hadn't actually come with them.

"There's always the chance she's here, but invisible," Dak explained to the proprietor before the man questioned his mental state.  "If she's not here," he said deliberately, looking around, "then I'll just have to remember what she wanted to buy."

He paused a moment for feedback before giving the man a shrug.  Walking the rows, he began his selection of bedrolls, provisions, a lantern, oil, and tinderbox.

That was as much as he remembered.  He hadn't expected to be the primary purchaser.  He'd been paying more attention to the soup at the time.

Alvord recited: "... a bedroll, rope, lantern, spikes, rations, and the like."

"A bedroll and some rations for me. Oh, and since we may be camping, a spit and some pots and pans. They can go on the horses. He turned to the proprietor. What have you in the way of herbs and spices?"

He looked over the goods to see what might strike him and to guess where items came. When it's time, he'll help carry the stuff. It may take using the rope and using an unrolled bedroll as a kind of stretcher.

Cyrus, not being a particularly talkative sort, dropped three bedrolls on his counter, and with unerring movement, made his way through the narrow ways to collect items named.  He added the hooded lantern, tinderbox, an iron pot, and a well-wrapped flask of oil, and a coil of rope to the side of the three bedrolls.  He started opening a number of barrels, scooping things into small bags and the smaller bags into one large bag, and then went to another aisle, pulling open a box to reveal spikes.  "How many of these do you want?" he asked.

"I got salt and garlic," he replied to Alvador.

"Salt and garlic it is, then. A cup of the former and six bulbs of the latter."

"Four spikes?" Dak replied to the proprietor as he opened the pouch to see how much they actually had to spend.  One spike for each of them should suffice.  The half-elf seemed to be planning on an extended journey and Dak didn't want to surprise Hewney by spending all of their advance on his first outing as quartermaster.

"And one more bedroll, please," he added as Alvador wanted one as well.

"Three'll do ya," said Cyrus.  "Less there's more a ya than you two and that invisible girl and Hewney."  He set down a rope of garlic, four spikes, and a brick of salt.  "Sell it by the pound.  Ain't worth splitting and hoping someone wants the leftovers."

"Your part be sixty-five asil," he said to Alvador.  He seemed to be doing more mental calculations, and then said, "And two hundred twenty for yours."

Dak assumed the proprietor knew something he didn't.  The man had added up the four of them and was still confident  they only needed the three bedrolls.  It was probably good since he wasn't sure how many coins were in the purse.

He began spilling them onto the counter until he'd counted out the required sum.  If this were the down payment on the job, he wondered how much the job was actually paying.

"That should be right," Dak finally said, concluding his count.  The purse wasn't quite empty, but they'd definitely spent most of it.

Alford blinked and did some mental calculations. "One moment, Dak. Proprietor, please itemize these goods. Perhaps a mistake has been made."

"Oh, it's right, all right," said Cyrus.  "Ten for yer bedroll.  Ten for yer pot.  One for the salt, two for the garlic, and forty-two for yer provisions."

PM

Line

Alvador nodded. "Thank you. Dak, do you have enough?"

By this time, Hewney was at the stables, having managed to secure the fourth horse.  All four horses were saddled, and he had tied a bedroll to the back of one saddle.  He did not seem to be visibly armed, but had added a leather tunic over his other clothing.

"Yes, we have enough from the advance," Dak replied to Alvador as he jingled the pouch to see how much was left.  He stuffed the now diminished pouch into his own belt pouch and began loading up with their gear.

Sometime after Dak and Alvador leave, Pathwyn made a quick stop at Cyrus'.  She was in a good mood.  Horses, a bit of wilderness, fresh air...  what's not to love?

"Good afternoon Cyrus.  Did two half-elves and a guy in chain mail just come in here for bedrolls?    Please tell me they bought a lantern.  I need some bandages in case we get chomped by a wumpus or something."

Alvador helped with the toting and with distributing the goods on the horses. He wasn't especially familiar with horses, having done little riding, but he was good at following directions.

Hewney saw Dak and Alvador approaching with their burdens, and waved them over to where he stood with the four horses--two bays (one of which already had a bedroll attached to the saddle), a dappled gray, and a chestnut.

"Get everything all right?" he asked, "let's get one bedroll to each horse, and then see what else needs to be packed up."

---

As a general note--riding a horse is common enough that a simple ride (no stunts) does not require the riding proficiency.

"Aye, they did," replied Cyrus.  "And oil and a tinderbox."  He walked down an aisle, took a turn and walked a little more, "Here," he said, pulling out a thick roll of cloth bandages.  "Five asil for a roll."

"What sensible young men."

Pathwyn handed over 5 of the silver coins she could never seem to hold onto for very long.

"The breadth of your stock, and its high quality are truly wonders, Cyrus.  Who would want to shop anywhere else?"

She stuffed the roll of bandages into her nearly empty backpack.  Its only company was a wineskin full of cool water.  With a smile and quick wave to the provisioner Pathwyn left to go meet up with the others at the stables.

"I think we have everything," Dak replied to Hewney.  He set down what he was carrying and fished the remainder of their advance from his pouch.  "Bedrolls, food, spikes, rope, lantern, and oil.

"This is what's left," he added, tossing the smaller pouch to him.

Po0st out of time: Dak (Hewney's purse) paid for everything.

Pathwyn jogged from the provisioner's to the stables to at least give the impression of hustle, but not hurrying so much as to get all sweaty under the pieces of thick leather armor.  The riveted leather paulrons, vambraces, gloves, and high boots looked much less aesthetic than the femininely shaped wax-hardened leather breastplate and hip guards.  The parts appear to be two different sets pieced together.  The skirt of her dress flowed out from under the elegant torso pieces and covered the upper part of the mundane armored boots.  A quiver full of two different types of arrows was strapped to the back of her armor.  In one hand she was holding a beautiful elven bow almost as tall as she was.  In the other hand a plain spear and a small round shield with a red fox emblem painted on it.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, playing up her windedness.  "I stopped off for bandages so we don't bleed all over Gwysol's nice clean tower should the worst happen."

Alvador stopped to take in Pathywn's armor and weapons. "Formidable."

If all was ready, he prepared to mount and said. Hewney, I guess you take the lead."

"Good job," said Hewney, taking the pouch back from Dak.  "There's even some left."

After making sure that the rest of the things were stowed away, he said, "All right, let's get on our way."

With that, he mounted his horse, waiting for the others to get mounted up before starting to lead the way.  He tracked back toward the edge of Shipton's outskirts before taking a turn deeper inland.  It was not long before the road itself had given way to more of a lightly-traveled track.

Pathwyn slung her bow over her head and shoulder before strapping her spear and shield to the left side of the saddle.  Then she mounted up side saddle.  Full of exuberance, she wanted to get up to a canter right away and charge ahead out of town, but there were practical issues with that.

"Hey there buddy," she said, patting its neck and stroking it reassuringly as she talked.  "We're traveling 'til None.  In no rush.  Little more than a stroll.  Piece of cake for the likes of you."

She wove her horse around in a slow, wide figure eight to get a feel for the animal and to let the others go ahead.  From the rear, but close by, she could better watch over the group, especially Alvador who she'd promised to keep safe.

Dak just hoped his horse kept following the others.  It had been awkward enough clambering up.  He was hoping the horses were all friends and would stick together.

He was fine with the walking pace, but should any excitement find them, he'd be the first one off.  Better to dismount of his own choosing than not.

Alvador found himself behind Hewney. He let the hose do the following while he took in the countryside. His face had a puzzled look when he saw the way become less-traveled on so quickly. How populated was this island anyway?

It had been perhaps half of the hour of Quince gone when the group had left the stable.  The sun could be seen to have moved past its apex as they traveled.  The lightly traveled track grew steadily more overgrown--long grasses which reached nearly as high as the belly of the horses upon which they rode.  A few trees dotted the landscape, but not so much that it could be said to be a woods, while it did seem that they were getting into a hilly terrain.  None of this seemed to give Hewney much concern, and he continued to lead the way with the occasional glance back to be certain that they had all continued to follow.

As they rode, the tower started to come into view--a gleaming white stone structure.  At first, from a great distance, it looked entirely fine.   However, as they continued to draw closer, they could see that part of the wall on one side near the top had been blown out, stone fragments scattered on the ground.  ((The section that would be about 9:30 to 11 on a clock face, compared to the direction of approach from "6"))

Perhaps a few hundred yards now separated them from the tower when they were able to hear voices shouting at each other.

In a low, almost raspy tone, [Language unknown: "N pl ck teusen."]

In a higher pitched squeaky tone, [Language unknown: "Li n lo taroekll, itate osthno."]

The raspy tone responded, [Language unknown: "Romst, askor dayillstr art e se o?"]

Higher pitched tone shouted back, [Language unknown: "No.  Dialen n."]

With a raspy laugh, the first voice heard responded, [Language unknown: "Redbe ni, ic."]

From the sound of things, this was an argument which had been going on for some time already.

Alvador pulls up on the reins and holds a hand up. He listens.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:42, Sun 07 June 2020.

Pathwyn pulled her horse up between Dak and Alvador behind Hewney.  She had questions and input, but stayed silent so Alvador could get a good listen.

Dak slid down from the saddle and nearly collapsed as he hadn't realized how much effort he'd been putting into staying on the horse.  He steadied himself against its side and kept hold of the driving straps so the horse didn't run away.  That would have been embarrassing.

Hewney had urged his horse to a halt, and he looked back at the others.

"So, we're not the first ones here," he whispered, looking at the others with an inquiring expression, to see if anyone knew what was being said.

"What should we do?" Dak asked.  This hadn't been part of the plan.

He bent his legs one after the other to try and get the muscles worked out.  At least his arms were still working right.

[Alvador does/doesn't understand what being said?]

"I can try to creep up and get a visual on it," said Hewney, looking to Pathwyn to see if she happened to understand any of the voices.  "Some of it kind of sounds like goblins, but I don't know goblin-speak."

Alvador shook his head. "I don't think creep; that means hostile intent. Let's just lead the horses and go see what's doing. If need be, I can cast Sleep. I only need one hand free."

Pathwyn dismounted too.  She keept her voice hushed.

"It's not orcs, I'd guess goblinoids too.  They are very common.  However, goblins don't often operate during daylight if they can avoid it.  If they're out at this time they'll have larger numbers."

"Another thing to keep in mind.  There is only one thing that goblins respect and that's strength.  If we go up there peacefully without weapons drawn, they are likely to attack without hesitation.  We can't intimidate them with threats either, since we don't speak the language."

"I have 3 proposals.  First, we find out if these are indeed goblins and roughly how many.  Second we keep our numbers hidden.  They will hesitate or flee if they don't know they outnumber us.  Third, we stay prepared to deliver a show of force.  This includes the sleep.  That is an excellent option.  Magic like that tends to panic them and they flee when confused or frightened."

After making her suggestions she looked to Hewney.

"This is your job, Hewney.  You make the call."

Alvord added his (muted) voice. "I respect Pathwyn's ideas. She knows more abut all this than I do."

Hewney nodded as Pathwyn spoke.  "Smart lady friend you picked up, Alvador," he said.  "I think ... well, best we know what we might be walking into, so stay back here with the horses.  I'll try and get some numbers and then we can finish with the rest of Lady Pathwyn's plans."

He swung down to dismount, and then said, "I will try to be back quickly."

With that, he started moving forward, moving with the sure-footedness that he must have inherited from his father, leaving the other three with the four horses.

Dak reached out and took the driving straps of the half-elf's horse in case it decided it wanted to follow him.  He looked around for somewhere convenient to tie them up.

The group is still near one of the scattered trees in the area.

Alvord positioned himself between two horses. If he saw a raised eyebrow, he explained (softly) "Prudence."

Pathwyn looked up at the tower and back to the horses.

"Alvador, if we're going to leave the horses here to investigate the tower, would Chree be able to watch over them and warn us if any goblins come skulking around?"

Dak ties the two horses he has to the existing tree and then turns to watch the tower.

Alvador closed his eyes for a few moments and nodded. "Chree will do it. One moment; good idea, Pathwyn." He took his cloak and spread it over a saddle so it left a space for Chree to lie and watch while shielded from the sun. It'll be a little uncomfortable for him, but it shouldn't be long." Before placing the bat, Alvador gently stroked the soft-furred back.

He took sling in hand and placed a bullet. The fingertips of his other hand are in a pouch. "I'm ready."

Perhaps half an hour all told had passed as the group with the horses made a plan to leave the horses tethered here, away from the tower, under the watch of Chree, when Hewney returned.

"Definitely goblins on the ground," he said.  "Not many, maybe a scout team?  So we'll need to be quick on it--I think there's about a half dozen.  The little dog-faces are in the tower, and I guess the goblins are wanting it.  Dog-faces are throwing stuff down, so we'll need to spend as little time out in the open as we can and try to get in there.  Definitely blew something up in there, but it looks like the place isn't coming down just yet."

"Maybe we should put the horses a little further away," Dak suggested.  "Where they can't see them from the tower."

It wouldn't do for anyone in or around the tower to spot four horses just tethered to a tree.

"Time is passing," Alvador observed. "If we let it pass, they might fight. ON the other hand, others might come. ... Helpful musings, no doubt."

How far are we from the tower now, and where would we have to move to to shield the horses from view?

"Dog-faces?  What's that?" Pathwyn asked perplexed.

"How are we getting in?  The hole in the wall?  Do we have a key to the front door?  Some other entrance?"

Dak untied the two horses he'd taken charge of and attempted to direct them somewhere out of sight of the tower.  He wasn't sure how effective the driving straps were if you weren't sitting on top so he took it slow.

"Wait Dak," Pathwyn said before he got more than a few steps away.  "How far are you planning to go?  Usually, they build towers up on hills so they can see everything around them.  I know wizards have different reasons for building towers, but even so it could be miles before you get to a hidden spot.  If you know of somewhere nearby, I'll follow you in a second, but it defeats the purpose of even bringing horses if we hide them miles away."

The current location was perhaps 200 or so feet from the tower base, the grounds do have fairly tall grasses (belly high to horse) when off the track.  (Of course, based on what Hewney reported, it seems likely that opponents are focused in a different direction, but as noted, towers are built for giving a better view of surroundings.)

"Dak, we could move the horses just a little ways so they are exactly on the opposite side of the tower from the blast hole and the confrontation.  They'd still be visible from the tower, but no one would be looking that way.  Safer for the horses and quicker for us.  Are you game?"

"Henway, what's a dog-face?  Is it a goblin clan?"

Dak looked around and realized elven vision was as piercing as he'd heard.  There really wasn't anywhere nearby to hide the horses.

"Is there any way to make them lay down?" he asked, eyeing the horses speculatively.

"Lay down," he ordered Hewney's horse with a light tug on the driving straps.  He figured the half-elf's horse would be the smartest as he carried their leader.  He already knew his horse was just a follower and would probably lie down if it's pack leader did.

"Dog-face," repeated Hewney, his hand gesturing a height about a yard above the ground.  "Smell bad, yip like dogs."  He took the reins of the horse he had been riding and said, "Let's get these horses over, as Lady Pathwyn suggests.  Well off the track and away from where they're looking."

As they moved with the horses, the sounds of the two intermingled languages--neither of which was understood by any in the group--continued their argument with the interspersed sound of something crashing from the height and a strange sort of laugh from the deeper voiced creatures.

Alvador listened and said, "I don[t know the language, but sounds like a fight is abut to start...or has started. If they see us, they'll probably concentrate on us, but we should know what's gong on. I'm not good at sneaking and peeking, and Chree wouldn't be either. Any of you skilled?"

"For now, crouch low in the grass as we move.  If we can get inside the tower, peeking out an arrow slit or barely open shutter would be a lot safer and sneakier than trying the same out here."

As we get closer do we see any possible entrances?  The dog-faces must've gotten in somehow.

Dak made sure his horse was secure and pulled the rope from one of the saddle bags.  He also slipped a spike into his belt pouch.  He wasn't sure what it was for, but he'd bought enough for everyone.

If he did have to face goblins, at least this time he had some armor and a decent sword.

As the group edged closer to the tower, they could see a rope dangling from the third floor of the tower.  A wooden walkway circled the building, although it appeared that falling stones had wrecked some of the railing--still, it looked like there was a door just past a statue of a gruesomely grinning gargoyle.

In the yard, the shouting between the goblins--for they had now come close enough to confirm this part of Hewney's identification--and the creatures withing the tower continued.  Occasionally, a goblin fired an arrow up at the unseen foes, an act which was met with laughter and some thrown brick or chunk of wood from above.

Alvador counted the goblins on the ground.

Alvador counted six goblins.

Hunched over in the tall grass, Dak dashed forward to the rope and ensured it was still secure.  This looked to be how the others entered the tower.  It was lax of them to have left their rope behind.

Alvador, startled by the impetuous act, had to take a moment to see if he needed to cast one or more Sleeps.

Just checking to see if I have this pictured right.

There are no doors or windows visible to us below the 3rd floor.
There is a rope on our side of the tower leading up to a wooden railing on the 3rd floor.
Along this wooden railing there is a gargoyle statue and a door.
Dak is climbing the rope.

How tall is the tower?  Can I think of any reason the goblins aren't climbing the rope to get at the dog-faces?  Does climbing this rope require a skill check?


A little startled, but impressed by Dak's bold move, Pathwyn drew her bow and notched an arrow to cover him.

And DAk is running right through the goblins?

Clarifications:

The rope goes up to the third level, but the door is at the first (ground) level.

There is a wooden walkway around the tower leading to the door, but the damaged masonry has also damaged the railing and walkway (which fell from the explosion in the tower).

The goblins are on the ground, and yes they would notice Dak if he goes for the rope.  It is highly probable that the stuff being thrown down from above is dissuading the goblins from ascending the rope.

It would require a skill check to climb the rope.

Thank you for the clarification.
With this new information Dak might reconsider his heroic assault.

How about the door?  Would approaching the door alert the goblins?  How far off the ground is the door?  Can we get to it along the damaged walkway?  Is the gargoyle near the door attached to the tower or is it something the fell with the stones that damaged the walkway.


If the gargoyle was built into the tower near the door Pathwyn said quietly to those still around her, "be careful of that gargoyle.  I think it's a trap."

Yes, I'm waiting for a clarification as to whether that is still the action.

The gargoyle is on a pillar at the edge of a square in front of the door as a part of the walkway (not destroyed section).  There is a good chance that at least some of the goblins will notice the approach.

Though Dak had only meant to tug on the rope to see if it was secure, upon spotting the goblins, he committed to climbing the rope.

How far from us are the goblins? (yards)

Pathwyn took aim at the nearest goblin archer.  If that archer so much as touched arrow to string she fired at it.  She'd then take a second shot if the first missed or failed to drop the goblin.

PM

Hewney uttered a short obscenity as Dak ran forward to test the rope.  "That's the hard way!" he exclaimed, seeming to have forgotten Pathwyn's presence for the moment.

Dak found that the rope was secure enough, but his movement had made more than enough noise to attract the attention of the goblins.  As the young fighter started to try climbing the rope, he found his actions rather hampered by the fact that two arrows from the goblins had just been fired in his general direction, though neither actually struck him, while a brick came sailing down from above, its arc wide enough that he could not be entirely sure if those above had meant to try to get him or the goblins.  He was close enough now that he could just catch the scent that smelled a great deal like a dog who had gotten wet in filthy water.

There were probably too many goblins for Pathwyn's cover fire to keep Dak safe during his heroic climb, but she did what she could.  Her first shot found its mark in the closest goblin archer.  If the goblin went down she chose a second target and fired again.  Otherwise she fired her second shot at the first hearty goblin.


01:50, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 18 using 1d20+4.  shooting goblin arrow 1.
01:51, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 6 using 1d8.  arrow damage.
01:52, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 16 using 1d20+4.  shooting goblin arrow 2.
01:52, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 4 using 1d8.  arrow damage.

Alvador cast a pinch of sand and intoned, "Moosum alta"

He called out, "Pathwyn, they'll only be asleep for a minute!"

(duration 5 rounds/level.  Each round is a minute.  Sleep for 5 minutes.  Am I wrong?)

Hewney extracted a pair of daggers from their concealed location, prepared to throw them, although for right now he was moving to close the distance to allow them to be effective.

((Correct -- sleep is for 5 rounds/level, so 5 minutes.))

The goblins had had little time to react to their new threat, as Dak dodged arrows and bricks, the priestess of Veja showed the superiority of elven ways by skewering first one goblin, then as Alvador released his incantation, four goblins fell to the ground, and then Pathwyn's arrow slew the remaining upright goblin.

From above, there was jeering laughter.  [Language unknown: "Is te to ic."]

Having lost the element of surprise, Dak gave up on climbing and worked his way around the tower to the other side.  He'd either succeed in distracting some of them to follow him around, or they'd stop throwing things at him.  One thing was for sure, if he tried to climb now, they'd probably just cut the rope on him.

"Look in the gargoyle's mouth," said Hewney as he moved on toward the sleeping goblins.  Ignoring the goblins who had arrows sticking out of them, he slit the throat of the first goblin he reached, and dodged as a fist-sized stone fell from the third floor.

"Wow," Pathwyn said in her normal tone of voice. "Nice work, Alvador!"

She slung the bow over her head and one shoulder and drew her spear.

"Come with me," she said to Alvador, since Hewney had already gone ahead."  We need to disarm the goblins before they wake up."

But then she had a second idea.

"Can you do that again to the dog-faces?  Dak is going to be seriously outnumbered up there."
'...If he makes it.' she thinks to herself.

Pathwyn ran up to the sleeping goblins and took their weapons before deciding whether to cripple or kill them.  She was leaning towards cripple.  A spear stab in the calf should render them useless fighters, but allow them to hobble back to their caves.  Then again, that didn't sound like a good idea either.  The goblins might return with a hoarde before the party could find the daggers and spellbook.  With a sigh, she decided to deliver coup-de-graces instead.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:01, Sat 13 June 2020.

Alvador moved forward but sideways-around, seeking to avoid anything coming from the tower window.

Keeping an eye on rubble from above, Dak jogged up to the gargoyle statue to look in it's mouth.  Hewney must have been told some secret entrance trick by the wizard.

As Hewney and Pathwyn finished off the remaining goblins, chunks of stone and wood were falling in the area.  Looking above, they could see several figures, looking small although from this angle it was hard to judge height, looking much like Pharaoh hounds on two legs rather than four.

"Let's get over to Dak," urged Hewney.

Dak looked up to ensure he wasn't about to be clobbered by a cornerstone before fishing the iron spike from his pouch.  Taking another look into the gargoyle's mouth, he stuck the spike inside and wiggled it about.

Pathwyn nodded.

"As you can see, Hewney, I don't mind offing goblins.  They are vile, evil little monsters who would all happily murder us in our sleep and burn down our villages.  Dog-faces, I don't know.  Are they the same as goblins or are they kind to animals and bring gifts to children?  Maybe something in between.   What are we looking at when we encounter them?"  she asked.

Careful not to let the whole group cluster together she stayed back, but within talking distance as Dak and Hewney dealt with the door.  She waved Alvador to hang back too.  It wouldn't do to put too much weight on the damaged walkway.

"Dog-faces make the goblins look like nice folk," said Hewney.  "Mean,  nasty little brutes.  Getting a lot of them asleep with Alvador's spell will help."

It had taken some effort, but the lever finally moved to the other side with a satisfying clunk.  Other than that, nothing seemed to be different, but there was nothing stopping anyone from continuing on to open the door.

Alvador moved nearer the group, one hand in a pouch.

Looking up again to ensure there wasn't one of them poised to throw, Dak dashed for the door to see if the mechanism had unlocked it.  If it worked, this was definitely easier than climbing the rope.

When Dak tried it, the door opened.  Beyond this door, they could see a room with another door almost directly opposite the door allowing entry.  The walls and floor were all stone, with the wall studded in an irregular pattern with hooks at heights varying between two feet from the floor and five feet from the floor.

Assiming that it appeared to be relatively safe, Alvador followed the others in. He paused at the doorway to look around at the outside.

Pathwyn stows her spear in a leather slip knot next to her quiver and holds her bow in her left hand.  She wasn't 100% sure of Hewney's description of the dog-faces' morality, but it did stand to reason.  The humanoids you never saw in human cities tended to be cruel, vicious, and anti-social.  For now she'd take his word for it.  Shoot first.

"Fun fact.  This room in a tower has two names depending on its use - Vestibule or Zwinger .  The vestibule is a small greeting room that reduces heat loss and prepares guests to be impressed by the grand nature of the next room.  The Zwinger is an area just inside the entrance where enemies can easily be trapped and killed."

Pathwyn paused morbidly on that notion.

"All these hooks look more vestibule-y to me.  Coat hooks for everyone from humans to fairies.  Personally, I'd add a bench so guests could sit while removing muddy boots.  Gwysol will have to forgive me.  I'm leaving my boots on."

How is the room shaped?  Vaugely square?  What's the approximate diameter of the tower, and how far is it to that next door.

As the group came into the room, it was perhaps a mite easier to get the bearings of the place, for empty rooms were rather notoriously difficult to gauge, but this room was something of a rectangle with slightly curved edges, perhaps four paces from the entrance to the next door and six paces across from side to side.

Dak drew his sword and moved to the next door.  He was sure those creatures above saw them enter and would be ready for them.  They needed to find the stairs and dispatch these dog faces before they were ambushed.

"Close the entry door behind us and I'll take the lead," he said quietly.  With his free hand he opened the next door a few inches to peer within.

Alvador whispered Please shield me so I can cast Sleep if that seems practical. They may no know I can cast Sleep again. Then I'll back up out of the way.

"Why would they think you couldn't use it again?" Dak asked uncertainly.  If he'd used it once, of course he could use it again.

Alvador replied, "I'm new to the Art, and I look young...which I am. So they might know that I can cast few spells...if they were observant enough. I'm just telling you to be prepared for me not being of use for now. And after I cast Sleep, that'll be the case anyway. That's why I'll scoot back out of the way."

He sighed. "It takes time and braving danger for mages to advance in the Art, and may die trying. If we survive, matters become easier."

[I just reviewed the 2e XP for levels tables. I wonder what the rationale is for the numbers. By the PHB, a new mage would cast her/his Sleep and then hide out while others do XP things for the rest of the day. At higher levels, mages whoop-de-do and advance more quickly than all classes except Rogues. Our gracious GM's house rule is a boon for Alvador.]

"All right," Dak replied quietly to Alvador's explanation.  He still wasn't sure he understood how magic worked, but it sounded like there were limits on how often it could be used.  He'd stick with his sword.

Moving through the doorway, the group came into another room, about the same size as the first room.  Here, there was a plain wooden table with two wooden chairs at the table, while a pair of additional wooden chairs were against the wall.  At the far end from their entry, there was another door.  Next to the door they had entered through was a shutter.

A few sconces were along these walls, though none of the tall candles within were currently lit.

Dak shivered and looked around after he went through the doorway.  The hole in the tower must be causing a draft.

"What's that?" he asked, regaining his bearings and pointing at the shutter.  He then moved quickly past it to the far door.  He wanted to keep moving, but that shutter caught his eye.  Stopping next to the other door, he waited for the others to catch up and take a quick look at the shutter.

Pathwyn closed door to the outside after Dak asked for it to be done and then moved in front of Alvador when he requested protection.

"I know I'm not much to hide behind," she said, almost apologizing.

"Speaking of shields, you can use mine if you'd like."

Is that candle the only illumination?  I'm assuming the shutter is on the outer wall of the tower and closed.  Correct me if I'm wrong.

"Did someone bring the lantern?  Now might be a good time to light it."

Moving into the room with the rest, Hewney pushed the shutter open.

"Peephole," he announced.  "Ah, that's ...  There's two peepholes.  One just looks right into the room we came in, but the other, it's outside."

"Here, you might have some trouble seeing," he said, putting a hand on Dak's shoulder.  "Let me get that next door."

---

Candles are currently not lit.  It becomes dark in the room when the doors to the outside are closed, but that's only a problem for Dak.

Alvador smiled sadly. "One way to cripple me would be to strap a shield on my arm. When we begin with the Art, the warrior's way is closed to us. I'm a fair hand with a sling, and maybe I'll be able to take up use of dagger and staff...someday."

Dak hadn't realized how dark it would get once the doors were closed.  He thought there'd be more windows.

"If someone would light a candle for me, I have a free hand to carry it," Dak asked, mollified by his unpreparedness.

Pathwyn shook her head.

"We are NOT walking into an ambush with our best warrior stumbling around blind or trying to fight by candlelight.  I'll go back and get the lantern.  Just tell me where it's packed away."

"And while I'm gone, think about how we can sucker those dog-faces down into an ambush of our own.  I'm willing to bet we're twice as smart as them.  Let's use it."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:30, Mon 15 June 2020.

"Dog faces are two floors up," said Hewney.  "Maybe the next level up is better lit, or has windows.  We know there's daylight where they are, the wall's part torn away."

Pathwyn hesitated, thinking.

"I don't like taking unnecessary chances like this, but you're the boss Hewney.  I trust your judgement."

She set down her bow and pulled flint and steel from her pouch.  She shaved the flint against the steel striker over and over near the wick of a sconce candle.  There were plenty of sparks, but none caught right away.

Pathwyn giggled a little.

"One time my sister Beala was trying to light a candle like this to read us a midnight story.  She was never very lucky with fire.  Dozens of sparks hit the candle and not-one lit, but a single spark drifted onto the dry storybook page and *whoof*."

Just then the wick started smoldering.  Pathwyn blew gently on the wick and soon the candle flickered with a small fire.

"We saved the storybook, but that one page was pretty much lost.  Beala ended up reading us a different tale."

She removed the candle from the sconce and handed it to Dak before tucking away the small tools and grabbing her bow.

"Thanks," Dak said, holding the candle up.  "This is better.

"If you're ready to open the next door, I'll back you up."

Hopefully there wouldn't be another sudden breeze like the earlier one or his candle would be out in a jiffy.

Hewney opened the door, revealing an unlit circular stairway.

Ascending one level, he opened the door to reveal a corridor--unlit, with three doors down the length of the hallway.

Standing in the door to the hall, he gestured to the others to continue into this hallway.

Sword in one hand and candle in the other, Dak passed the half-elf and moved into the corridor to stand just past the first door.

He was trying to be quiet, but it was what it was.

Alvador stayed back, behind Pathwyn. He appeared somewhat relaxed since the group was working well together. Dak, in particular, accepted him as he was. The swordsman was bravely leading the way.

Pathwyn followed Hewney and Dak into the 3-doored corridor.


How are the doors arranged in this corridor?  I assume the 3 doors do not include the one we opened from the staircase.

Was the second floor the top of the spiral staircase, or did the stairs continue upwards?  Do the stairs hug the outer wall of the tower or is the spiral tighter?

Did Pathwyn get the sense that the two first floor rooms plus the stairs used up all of the first floor interior space?

The spiral stairway is a tight stair, which does continue upwards.  From the outside, the tower looked like it was four stories, and the dog-faces were seen on the third floor.  These three doors are in an evenly-spaced row down the hallway, all to the right from the stairway door.  It did seem that the first floor space filled the area that would be expected from the outer view of the place.

"Let's try the nearest door first," suggested Pathwyn quietly.

4 stories?  Does the spiral staircase go down from the first floor too?  Is that 4th story above where the dog-faces are?

"Are we looking for the book, now?" Dak asked.  He wasn't sure why they weren't going up to confront the dog faces.

"Should I cover the stairs while the rest of you look?"

Their job really wasn't to secure the tower.  If they found what they were looking for, they could just leave without a fight.  He was fine with that.

Remembering a question that could have been asked long before, Alvador asked, "Hewney, did your mage say where he left the book or give any details about it?"

"Everything should be up in the lab," said Hewney, "on the top floor.  I figured maybe we could find something to help distract the dog-faces just in case, since they're between us and there."

He went over to the door nearest the stairs, and said, "Odd."  He reached into the pouch on his belt and pulled out some picks, and opened the door.

"I don't remember him saying there was an apprentice," he said, looking at the room which was furnished with a simple, hard cot and a small chest.

Dak left the searching to the others as they seemed to be able to see well enough without the candle.  He went back over to the stairs to listen for activity above.

Pathwyn noted the skill and ease with which Hewney was able to open the lock without a key.  He'd clearly trained at that professionally.  The half-elf might know ways around magical security too, but that would be a subject for later.  For now she wondered why an apprentice would need a lock on his door.  She sure didn't have one on her room at Maya and Honus' house.

She looked around the room without much interest unless something out of the ordinary caught her eye in the sparse room.

"Just as we suspected.  Gwysol's guest bedroom only sleeps one."


Are there any personal belongings in the room?  How recently does it look like it has occupied?  Pathwyn is going to look and smell, but not touch.  That also means she'll leave the small chest alone.

Before moving forward with the others, Alvador took a look back at where they came from. He frowned and muttered, "Expect the unexpected." Then he smiled at himself. "Expect the expected too."

Dak couldn't understand what the size of the bed had to do with finding the spellbook.   Maybe it was an elf thing.  Was the wizard an elf, too?

Maybe it was a wizard thing.  Did they sleep with their spellbooks?  So they were looking for a bed big enough for two?

So that meant Pathwyn was saying that either the wizard didn't allow other wizards to sleep with their spellbooks, or he didn't allow them to stay the night at all.  She was trying to get into the mind of the wizard to figure out where the spellbook would be.

This wouldn't take long at all.

"You wouldn't put a guest in a room like this, would you?" said Hewney.  "Looks like servant space ... and don't wizards make their apprentices like a servant?"  He looked to Alvador for that.

"You want to check the next rooms, see if there's something that we can use to distract the dog-faces, get a leg up on them.  Don't like the idea of leaving them behind us when we go on up."

Pathwyn nodded.

"On to the next room."

Hewney flipped open the chest, and tossed onto the bed a gray robe, two cotton tunics, and two pair of hose.  "This is interesting," he said, dropping a heavy book onto the bed before working to unwrap something in the chest.  "Noisy armor," he said, continuing to rummage.  "Decent blade."  He set that on the bed.  "Anyone good with a crossbow?"  He held up a case of bolts and a hand-crossbow.  "I like the idea of a little more reach, if not."

The next door down the hallway was already unlocked.

Alvador, after making sure nothing was coming up behind (as far as he could tell), took a look at the crossbow. "Seems to me all one has to do is point and pull the trigger." He sighed. "But I'd it one of you, like as not. Besides, I need one hand free." He pondered. "Still, if nobody else can carry it, I could. After I'm otherwise useless in a fight, I could swing it up level and shoot point blank...or point it  and look intimidating if we have any prisoners."

Back in the hallway near the stairs, Dak could hear the others talking in one of the rooms, but he couldn't tell what they were saying.  It was probably for the best.  If he couldn't make them out, it was a good bet the dog faces above wouldn't be able to hear them at all.

He kept an ear out for any noise above.  Particularly footsteps descending.

"That's alright, Alvador," said Hewney.  "I've had a time or two using something like this--best keep your hands free for sleeping the little beasties."

He moved to the next door, finding it was unlocked, and revealed a larder--several barrels and bottles, with hams and sausages hanging from hooks on the ceiling.

"Can check the last room, or just head up."

"Let's see what's behind door number three."

How's this floor set up for windows so far?  Are there any in the bedroom, the hall, the larder, or the stairway?

Alvador nodded and looked out of any windows.

While there were no windows here, a little light filtered down the stairway from the next floor.

Hewney went to the last door of the hallway and opened it, finding it was also unlocked.  This room revealed a small pile of lumber, a leather pouch with long nails, and evidence that part of the room was used as a dumbwaiter going down to the level below.

"Well, this floor didn't turn out to be illuminated at all.  I think we're back to the plan where I run out to the horses and fetch the lantern for Dak."

Pathwyn spoke quietly enough that her plans would not be heard upstairs.

"I'd like to lure the dog-faces down here for an ambush when I get back.  Perhaps we could rig this lumber to come crashing down loudly accompanied by some of us crying out in fake pain.  Then silence.  That should pique their curiosity.  We can put the lit lantern in this lumber room to further draw their attention, and hide in the bedroom waiting for them to investigate.  When they do we burst out into the hall, cut them off from the stairway, and sleep/slaughter them."

"How's that plan sound?  Any other suggestions?"

"Get the rope, too," said Hewney.  "That way we can pull the thing down without risk of hurting any of us, right?"  He looked to the others to see if there was any dispute or additional suggestions.

Alvador asked, "What happens if they see Pathway leaving and decide to come down before she returns?"

"I saw Dak grab the rope from his horse before we charged the tower, and something else," Pathwyn paused to concentrate on her recent memories.  "I think it was the key he used on the gargoyle's mouth.  Point being, he has the rope."



Pathwyn grinned at Alvador.

"The tables have turned!  It sounds like you're offering to be my bodyguard now."

She playfully poked / tickled Alvador briefly.

"Come along, then.  All we have to do is slip quickly and quietly from the door to the dog-faces' blindspot where the tower itself will block their view.  Easy, but good sneaking practice."

Unless there's an objection, she and Alvador will head off to fetch the lantern, oil, and anything else useful Dak left packed away (such as the 3 remaining spikes, and the rope if I'm losing my mind, but not the food or bedrolls).

Pathwyn  Pathwyn  Pathwyn  Pathwyn Pathwyn  Pathwyn Pathwyn  Pathwyn Pathwyn  Pathwyn

Alvdor shrugs, nods, and leaves with Pathwyn.

"Did you find the book?" Dak asked as the two neared the stairs.  "Are we leaving now?"

This was a lot easier than he'd expected.  Pathwyn's insight was much stronger than he'd thought.  From his position watching the stairs he hadn't heard what they'd been talking about, but it seemed they may have concluded their business already.

"No, but we did find some ham.  Hewney says the book is on the fourth floor, so we still need to get past the dog-faces.  Alvador and I are going to fetch the lantern so you can see what you're fighting.  All the better, right?"

"We'll be back in a jiffy."

Pathwyn instantly worried that Dak wouldn't understand what 'jiffy' meant.  It was a cant term bandied about by thieves to mean a very quick job.  The whole point of cant being to obscure the meaning of their words, but as crafty as the guilds thought they were it was pretty easy for a sharp ear and mind to pick up a word here and there as she had.  Perhaps she should have said 'blink of an eye'.

"Oh," she added, just as she started descending the stairs.  "Hewney wants the rope."

Alvador 'explained', "Longer wait than you'd like; shorter than you feared."

From the hallway near the last door, furthest from the stairs, Hewney beckoned Dak toward him.

"We're going to try to set  up these boards to make a nice crashing noise," he explained.  "We'll use the rope so we can pull it down from a safe spot away, hope we lure them dog faces down here to catch them in a trap."

"I don't think that was an apprentice's bedroom," Pathwyn said to Alvador as they made their way through the first floor to the tower entrance.

She grabbed one of the chairs against the wall and pulled it along which made a slightly annoying sound as one leg dragged and bounced against the floor.

"Metal armor?  A blade?  A crossbow?  It sounds more like the gear of a guard than a mage's apprentice.  If there had been a guard, I wish she'd stayed around to keep the tower from being infested by goblins and dog-faces.  And if she's gone now, why leave clothes and valuable gear behind?"

They reached the front door, but before opening it Pathwyn finished her thought.

"Perhaps that book Hewney tossed on the bed will give us a clue.  I assume it's not the spellbook or he wouldn't have discarded it, but it's worth looking into when we get back."

Pathwyn pushed open the door, lay the chair down on its side with the back of the chair positioned such that the door couldn't close and lock them out.

"Follow me," she whispered and zipped quietly out the door and down to the ground as quickly as possible without risking injury.

She stayed tight to the outer wall of the tower until she was exactly on the opposite side from the breach where the dog-faces had been tossing debris from.  Then she looked back to make sure Alvador was close behind.

Dak unslung the rope for the half-elf and returned to the stairs to keep watch with his dwindling candle.  Did the dog faces even realize they were down here?

And there he was, four steps behind.

From above Dak could hear noises that were definitely voices, though what was being said was utterly indecipherable, along with something that sounded almost like laughter.  In the hallway, Hewney ducked into the last room using the rope and doing something to quietly set things up according to Pathwyn's plans.

---

Outside, Pathwyn--trailed by Alvador--made the trek back to the horses to retrieve the lantern and such things.  While debris was no longer being thrown down, now that the goblins had been defeated, the voices of the dog-faces could be heard mixed with the strange almost-barking laughter.

Still, nothing else happened to deter them from completing the fetch part of the task and return to the place where they had left Dak and Hewney to work on the other part of her plan.

Pathwyn removed the chair from the tower entrance door and set it upright along the wall near the door.

"Now people can sit down when taking off or putting on their boots," she said to Alvador.  "You're welcome, Gwysol."

She stopped at the bottom of the spiral staircase and peeked upwards, listening.  It appeared the coast was clear, so she motioned to Alvador and went up to the second floor where Dak was standing guard.  She let Alvador by.

"Thank you for the escort," she said to the young mage with a curtsy.

Pathwyn knelt down in the hallway with Dak between her and the stairs.  She filled the lantern with the vaguely nutty smelling oil, keeping the flask and stopper.  Standing back up, she held the open lantern out to Dak.

"Will you do me the honor of lighting this off your candle?"

She set the lit lantern down on the floor.

"Have you trained to fight with a shield in your off hand, Dak?" she asked.

Alvador looked blank and then embarrassed before smiling. With a bow, he said, "You're welcome, My Lady."

He turned serious, willing to help but staying out of the way.

"Here is the rope," said Hewney, handing an end toward Pathwyn.  "A good tug should bring things down.  With this crossbow, I'll head down the hall and shoot if the dog faces come in--unless you've got another plan for where we should be?"

In the first room, the chest remained open with the contents still visible, except for the crossbow now in Hewney's hands.

"I'm fine without the shield," Dak replied to Pathwyn quietly so as not to draw undue attention from above.  Although from what Hewney had explained, the plan was to get their attention soon.

"I'll have the lantern in my free hand, anyway," he added.  "Where should I hide?"

While there's nothing to do, Alvador checked out the chest contents and what the book was about.

[As I recall, there is a book on the bed.]

"Wow Hewney, that's great!  Oh here..." she opened her pack and produced an iron pot and 3 iron spikes.  "I brought these back from the horses because I figured they'd help add to the racket."

Pathwyn put the spikes in the pot and placed it on Hewney's precarious lumber construction before going back to Dak.

"My shield is small and light enough that you could still hold the lantern," she said showing him the small, round, wooden shield with a fox head painted on it.  "But I won't go into those details.  You can't hold a lantern while ambushing someone.  The lantern will be on the floor right about..."  She moved the lantern further down the hall very near the door to the room where Hewney set up the lumber.  "Here."

"I think the shield would do you more good than me, since you're our best fighter.  It might just save your life."



"Good idea.  I should do the same.  Dak and Alvador can hide in the bedroom and pop out to cut the dog-faces off from the stairs when the shooting starts."


OOC to DM: I hope I'm envisioning the layout the way it really is.  Can you post a rough drawing of this floor so we're all on the same page with who's hiding where and how we plan to attack?

Reluctantly wearing the shield and disappointed he'd already lost the lantern, Dak went into the bedroom to take his place.  It was dark so he leaned against the wall and waited.

He still had half a candle in his pouch, but no way to light it quickly.  This was going to be a problem spending time with people who could see in the dark.

Here's a quick map.  Stairs continue up as well as going down.  Imagine it's all a little rounder, though.

My plan is something like this:



Dak and Alvador in the bedroom minus the bed.
Lantern lit at the end of the hall.
Doors to the stairs and the lumber room wide open.
Bed turned up on its side in lumber room with
Hewney and Pathwyn hiding behind it.

Lumber triggered to fall loudly.
Hewney and Pathwyn scream loudly in pain.
Silence and waiting until dog-face come to investigate.  (Curiousity killed the dog-faces)
When the dog-faces enter the lumber room, Hewney and Pathwyn pop up to surprise them with arrows and crossbow bolts.
Dak and Alvador burst from the bedroom to catch them by surprise again from behind and cut off their retreat.
Alvador casts sleep.
Melee with any stragglers.


Does everyone like the plan?  Any improvements?
This message was last edited by the player at 03:05, Sat 27 June 2020.

Alavor bowed his approval.

"Seems a good plan," agreed Hewney, setting to moving the bed according to Pathwyn's plan.

Pathwyn crouched, hiding behind the side-up bed.  She clutched her rose gold holy symbol and said a short prayer in Tanasi Elvish.


She looked to Hewney and quietly said "Ready?" and then pulled the rope, giving off a blood curdling scream after the crash as if she'd been badly wounded.

The little elf put arrow to bowstring, but couldn't pull it back in her crouched hiding position.

She waited silently.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:27, Mon 29 June 2020.

Hewney nodded to Pathwyn, and when the crash came, he swore loudly, "[Language unknown: Ingromoul Nde!]" and tried to give a pained moan.

For a few moments, things seemed quiet in the tower, and then a door slammed and several footsteps could be heard descending the stairs.

From the first doorway, Dak and Alvador could sense that there were four or five creatures passing the door.

The voices were speaking in the strange gutteral language that they had heard before, though no one knew the tongue.  The rather unpleasant odor of what seemed best described as 'wet, mangy hound' grew stronger in the hallway.

At the end of the hallway, Pathwyn and Hewney could see two of the creatures Hewney had called "dog faces"--these figures were about 30" tall, dressed in some sort of ragged tunic--with elongated snouts like those of hunting hounds, although the skin seemed more leathery than fur-covered with small spikes of horns growing from their heads--carrying spears.  The first two seemed to be very cautiously probing at the fallen lumber with their spears as their long tails, reminiscent of what a rat might possess, twitched.

Hewney pulled the small crossbow into position, waiting for the appearance of the dog-faces.  Unfortunately, it seemed that anticipation had caused him to overcompensate and the bolt flew from the crossbow into the wood frame of the room.

---

14:36, Today: Hewney rolled 2 using 1d10.  initiative.
14:36, Today: Hewney rolled 3 using 1d20.  to hit

Pathwyn popped up only an instant before Hewney (no initiative reaction bonus for Hewney?) pulling the bowstring back as she stood and fired an arrow straight into the
 chest of the nearest dog-face with an audible *thump*.  With a fluid, well practiced motion she drew and nocked another thick arrow all while gauging whether her first shot had been sufficient to drop the foul smelling little monster.  Perhaps it was her hesitation in choice of target that caused her second shot to be less accurate.

---

I assume their AC is better than 9, but you never know.

16:15, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 3 using 1d10+2.  initiative.
16:16, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 16 using 1d20+4.  arrow to hit dog-face 1.
16:17, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 5 using 1d8.  arrow damage.
16:17, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 11 using 1d20+4.  arrow to hit dog-face 2.
16:18, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 2 using 1d8.  arrow damage.

Dak readied himself to jump out into the hallway to block their escape, but hesitated as he couldn't remember what the signal was to do so.

---

19:30, Today: Dak rolled 9 using 1d10.  Initiative round 1.

Alvador certainly was ready to act. However, he thought he had best wait for the best moment, so he simply kept out of the way behind Dak.

20:10, Today: Alvador rolled 9 using 1d10.  Initiative.

As the dog-faces revealed themselves, Pathwyn loosed a first arrow, skewering the creature and pinning it against the far wall where it moved no more.  Hewney's bolt, however, a blink of an eye later, struck the wooden door frame.  Pathwyn's next arrow whistled through the air, just missing as the second of the dog-faces retreated from the doorway.

"[Language unknown: An u to!]" said one of the creatures.

Dak emerged from the room he had been waiting in, Alvador on his heels.  They saw that there were four of the dog-faces headed back their direction, a fifth showing in the light of the lantern as having been pinned to the wall by an arrow.

"Ah HA!" Dak shouted at the dog faces.  "Throw down your weapons and leave this place!"

He brandished his sword threateningly and tried to look menacing.  He was feeling menacing as they were much shorter than he was.

---

13:03, Today: Dak rolled 8 using 1d10.  Initiative round 2.

Alvador stepped out and flicks some sand toward the gnolls while saying, "Moosum alta."

Cast his second, and last, Sleep.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:10, Tue 30 June 2020.

Holding her bow high, Pathwyn planted her right hand firmly on the top edge of the bed and vaulted over it to give chase.  Her golden hair and the hem of her dress fluttered as she floated gracefully through the air.  Boot heel hit fallen lumber and she took three short side-to-side hopping strides along the top of the chaotically strewn planks, barely disturbing them beneath her feet.  Once in the hall, she skidded on the stone tile of the hall.

There she saw the dog-faces retreating, but trapped by Dak and Alvador.

She did not want to risk shooting her friends.  If it was safe to do so, she fired another arrow at the back ranks of the little monsters.  Otherwise, she let the bow drop, drew her spear, gripped it firmly in both hands, and charged at the nearest dog-face.

---

23:54, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 7 using 1d10.  initiative.
23:55, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 13 using 1d20.  to hit.  (17 if it's the bow)
23:56, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 4 using 1d8.  arrow damage.
                            OR
23:56, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 2 using 1d6.  spear damage.

Not to be outdone, Hewney vaulted himself past the bulk of scattered lumber, hopping steps bringing him into the hall.

Discarding the crossbow, he drew a knife to plunge into the back of one of the retreating dog-faces.

Emerging into the hallway, backlit by the lantern, Pathwyn could tell that the risks of a bow in such quarters with friends beyond the intended target had become too great, and the spear in her hand plunged through the shoulder of one of the retreating creatures.  Dak took a stance to fill the hallway to prevent the retreat of the dog-faces toward the stairs, emphasizing this with a swing of the sword which might have parted the hair of one--if only they had hair, and the creature dodged backwards, colliding with the wounded companion as Hewney emerged into the hallway, his knife finding the vulnerable back of another of the creatures.  A moment later, the mystic energy of Alvador's words took the three survivors to the floor in slumber.

Faint light filtered from the stairway above, along with a few more voices which sounded as though they spoke in the same language as those who were in the hallway sleeping.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:42, Wed 01 July 2020.

"I hear more of them upstairs," Dak said quietly as he went to cover the stairwell once more.  He still wasn't sure about the shield as it seemed to be throwing off his swing.  Maybe it just took some time getting used to it.

On the plus side, if they did charge up the stairs into the dog faces ambush, there seemed to be light up there.

Even though she just saw it in action a short time ago, Pathwyn was still surprised at the effectiveness and suddenness of Alvador's magic.

Leaning her weight into it, She thrust her spear through the chest of one of the sleepers.  She had hoped that these five would be the last of them and was disheartened to hear they'd have another fight in their near future.  At least they were doing their part to rid the area of evil.

"Did you see any reaction to your surrender demand, Dak?  It'll be good to know whether they can understand Calandian at all."

"Not that I could tell," Dak replied quietly to the bloodthirsty elven maiden.  He'd really had the wrong impression about religious orders and their doctrines before meeting her.  Perhaps she just belonged to one of the more violent elven sects.

"Good work," said Hewney, stooping to slit the throats of the two other slumbering creatures.  "Your plan went well.  Not sure how many there are up there.  But best to hurry."

He ducked back into the other room to retrieve the abandoned crossbow.

Likewise, Pathwyn retrieved her bow and salvaged what arrows she could.  She also gathered up the rope they'd used on the lumber 'trap' and returned it to Dak.

Then she took a knee next to the lantern to catch her breath.  This had been another very quick fight.  It hadn't taken much out of her physically; maybe just mentally or emotionally draining.  She wasn't looking forward to another fight so soon, but they had a job to do, and owed it to Gwysol to rid his tower of unwanted guests.

She looked around at the wizard's poor tower.  What a mess.  This was going to take a lot of work to clean up, not even counting the huge hole in the wall and whatever the dog-faces had done upstairs.

"What's our plan now?"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 04:11, Thu 02 July 2020.

Alvador said, "I may have used my spell prematurely; apologies." He looked around. "There's a mattress. If it can be lugged up sensibly, it can act a a shield. Might also cause some confusion.

"Bit awkward, though, isn't it?" said Hewney.  "Speed's probably our best bet--so it was good that you used the spell now.  Let's have someone lead the way with the shield, and then with Pathwyn's bow and this little crossbow, we'll have some range and can try to stay down behind the shield--or at least out of reach of spears?  Got some darts or a sling to keep you safe?"

"I'll go first," Dak volunteered quietly as he clung the coil of rope over his shoulder.  He was the one with the shield, after all.

Without waiting for further debate, sword in one hand and shield in the other, he took a deep breath and dashed up the stairs taking them two at a time.  Hewney had said surprise and speed would win the day.

Patheyn glanced over at the burning lantern sitting on the floor next to her.  That human loved leaving the lantern behind...  and impulsively charging into danger.  She shrugged, and hopped to her feet.  Dak was going to need backup.  She hurried to follow him.

Not wanting to delay, Hewney hurried up the steps behind Dak and Pathwyn.  "Don't forget the lantern," he added to Alvador, not sure if Alvador had any hidden range weapons, but knowing that behind them was relatively safe--it was what was ahead and above that was a danger.

Emerging up the stairs, Dak and those following could see that the stairs continued up one more flight to end at a wooden door--but the more immediate concern lay on this floor.  To the left, there was a window in the wall that was shuttered, but daylight still seeped through the edges.  Ahead, there was a room which had had its door broken down, and considerable light was coming from there--quite likely from the breech in the wall that they had observed from outside.  To the right was another doorway, the door having been bashed down here, as well.

Coming down the hallway from the room straight ahead were four more of the dog-faces, all with spears in hand as they seemed to be forming a line across the hallway.

[Language unknown: "Mi ckthhi fi ul!  M aist"]

Once again, Dak attempted a menacing mien, swinging his sword in a short chop as he slowly advanced.  They could still retreat down their rope if they chose to.

"Leave this place and be spared!" Dak shouted back at them with likely the same level of comprehension.

It was their choice.

---

Dak rolled 3 using 1d10.  Initiative round 3.

There was little or no hesitation when she saw the spear wielding dog-faces.  Pathwyn tugged back on the bowstring and loosed the most devastating shot of the day, combining pinpoint accuracy and lethal force.
She drew another arrow and fired, but the ensuing chaos in front of her led to poorer results.

---

15:22, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 7 using 1d10.  initiative.
15:23, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 23 using 1d20+4.  arrow to hit 1.
15:24, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 8 using 1d8.  arrow damage.
15:24, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 11 using 1d20+4.  arrow to hit 2.
15:25, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 4 using 1d8.  arrow damage.

Alvador, at the rear, raised his arms wide and shouted, "Abacadabra boogaloo! Chippy choppity woo-dee-dee-woo Fiddledee-faddle zippy zop? Goodillee foodiliee hippyu-hop!"

Taking a little more careful aim than before, Hewney pulled the trigger of his found crossbow and fired at one of the dog-faces.

---

20:46, Today: Hewney rolled 10 using 1d10.  initiative
20:46, Today: Hewney rolled 17 using 1d20.  to hit.
20:47, Today: Hewney rolled 3 using 1d3.  damage

As the group confronted the dog-faces, the small beasts came rushing toward the group, spear-tips forward.  Dak swung his sword as this creatures attacked, intending to keep them well back for the rest of the group.  His sword not only found the flesh of one of the dog-faces, but he dropped the beast, a thin strip of sinew being all that left the head still connected to the shoulders.

Pathwyn fired another arrow, striking well into the heart of another of the dog-faces, which fell while looking down at the feathers of the fletching that now adorned his chest.  Unfortunately, as he fell, the snap of the arrow shaft could be heard.  Perhaps this small disappointment was enough to spoil her aim, as the next arrow grazed along the wall before embedding in the frame of the broken door at the end of the hallway.  Hewney's crossbow bolt struck into the gut of one of the remaining dog-faces as Alvador, from the rear, made as though he were beginning some fierce casting.  The gut-shot dog-face dropped its spear and started trying to stagger back to the room at the end of the hall.  The lone dog-face who was neither killed nor injured did not drop the spear, but did turn and start fleeing down the hallway, passing his injured comrade in the process.

Looking down at the still forms lining the hallway, Dak was now certain they didn't understand what he was saying.

---

Dak rolled 2 using 1d10.  Initiative round 4

'Fiddledee-faddle?'  Pathwyn mused to herself.

"We can't just let them run off.  What if they have the book?"

You'd expect this warning to be delivered in a hiss or scolding tone, but it wasn't.  Pathwyn smiled cheerfully and almost sang the words as she brushed by Dak.

"...or Hewney's friend's crate full of daggers, or both!"

If she could still see the retreating, spear wielding dog-face she put an arrow in its back, two if necessary to stop it.  Otherwise she gave chase, ready to stop and fire if and when she got the chance.

Where was the breach?  Ahead?  Was her mind playing tricks on her or was this floor longer than the one below it?  She wondered.

---

00:04, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 1 using 1d10.  initiative.
00:05, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 20 using 1d20+4.  arrow to hit 1.
00:06, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 1 using 1d8.  arrow damage.
00:06, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 17 using 1d20+4.  arrow to hit 2.
00:07, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 2 using 1d8.  arrow damage.

Hewney fired the small crossbow again at the one staggering in the hallway, this second bolt being adequate to put the creature out of its misery.  As the remaining dog-face ran, Pathwyn fired two arrows, and while both hit their mark and staggered the creature, it continued to attempt to flee, although now having obvious difficulty due to the weakness brought on by the bloodloss.

Following the fleeing dog-face brought Pathwyn into what once had been a finely-appointed bedchamber.  The fine four-poster bed had been shattered, and the hangings had been torn and tied up to create a method of carrying away treasure.  To the right, upon entry, there was a large gap in the wall, with the ceiling sagging rather alarmingly into the space.  The remains of books and scrolls littered the floor, and in front of a chest was another dead dog-face, its body bearing the marks of several stab wounds and mouth in a twisted rictus.  Dust still seemed to be sifting down from above.  The remaining live dog-face was staggering toward the gap, as though intent on going down the rope to make its escape.

The sad state of the master bedroom was a real shame.  First it had been blown out by a magical mishap and then trashed and pillaged by wicked little monsters.  She hoped that this was finally the last of the dog-faces.  Pathwyn continued to fire arrows at the wounded dog-face to halt its escape.

The setting did strike Pathwyn as odd.  Somemthing wasn't quite right here.

---

19:29, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 10 using 1d10.  initiative.
19:30, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 11 using 1d20+4.  arrow to hit 1.
19:30, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 2 using 1d8.  arrow damage.
19:31, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 12 using 1d20+4.  arrow to hit 2.
19:31, Today: Pathwyn na'Sylviis rolled 8 using 1d8.  arrow damage.

Dak conceded they could have made off with the book, but it sounded more like an excuse for her to execute the last of the little creatures trying to escape.

Definitely not like the the peaceful holy sisters back on the island.

Hewney hurried into the next room, and seeing that the last of the dog-faces had been dealt with, he cracked a smile.

"Good job," he said, edging gingerly into the room with a wary eye at the ceiling.  "They won't be bothering our horses, either."  He looked about for the place the rope had been anchored to, deftly untying it and coiling it up.

Pathwyn's body still told her to clutch the bow tightly and nock another arrow, but the danger looked to have passed.  It was time to piece together events and locate the spellbook and the daggers.  Pathwyn set the bow aside and knelt down to search the bundled bed hangings to see what treasures the dog-faces had gathered up.  She hoped they'd already done the party's work for them, but somehow she doubted it would be that easy.

"How do I recognize the spellbook?" she asked generally to Hewney and Alvador.  "Do we have a description?  Will it have Gwysol's name on the cover?" she chuckled.

Despite her levity, she knew spellbooks were serious business.  She wasn't going to just go opening mysterious books haphazardly.

There were an awful lot of ruined books and scrolls here.  Where'd they all come from?  Were there shelves in this room?

Alvador looked out the window to see if any foes were visible. "Before we look around, I suggest we hurry to he horses to bring them close. Then we can worry about the book. Of course, I may already have it; it's a spellbook."

"The horses may be safer where they are," Dak suggested as he bent to wipe his blade off on one of the dead bodies.  "If they were closer to the tower, anyone poking around here would see them first.

"I'm going to grab the lantern and then take a look up the stairs."

He sheathed his sword and headed back down the stairs to pick retrieve the lantern.

Avador disagreed. "I think they'll be safer if they're where we can see them out the window and reach them quickly. I'll go alone if need be."

"All right," Dak conceded to the obstinate young wizard, already on his way down the stairs.  "I'll go with you."  He was the only one, after all, that knew how to open the door from the outside.

"I'll stay up here with Lady Pathwyn," said Hewney.  "That way we're in pairs, at least, for safety."  He started looking around the bedroom.  "They've really made a mess of the place."

The bedroom had once had something of a reading corner with a plushly upholstered chair, which had now been torn apart by the dog-faces, bits of stuffing scattered about.  One end of a wooden shelf remained affixed to the wall that was shared with the other interior room on the floor, the other end having been taken free of its mooring in what must have been some shaking when the blast had taken place.

Within the bundles that had been made could be found dishware, silverware, and some objects that looked as though they might well be more ornamental than functional.  The writing on the various scraps of parchment was unfamiliar.   It appeared that the dog-face that had been killed by the chest had managed to get the lock open, but for some reason after that his companions had turned on him.

From the next room, there was a smell which was starting to grow--that of some sort of fowl, more than likely, roasting.

Moving into that other room--which had had its door bashed in as well--would reveal that it was a kitchen that had been quite thoroughly ransacked, although the dog-faces had apparently lit the fire and started roasting a bird which was on a spit in the fire (at least this was the logical conclusion, given that it was far too long since the wizard had staggered in for aid back in town).

Pathwyn sniffed the air.

"Winner winner.  Chicken dinner."



"I know.  I feel bad for Gwysol.  Everything he has is here in this tower, and most of it trashed.  At least we kept those dog-faces from hauling away the goods.  And I know a mason who can get a crew over here to make repairs.  Could be worse."

She shrugged.

She got up and went to the chest, pushing the murdered dog-face away from it.

"OK, Hewney.  I'm going to open the chest.  Whatever's inside promise you won't start stabbing me," she said with a pleasant smile.

"Actually, let's do one better.  Drop your crossbow and knives."

As a show of good faith, Pathwyn set down her spear and tossed her knife on the bed.

"Thanks, Dak," Alvador says gratefully. The duo made their way with all deliberate speed, Alvador communing with Chree, his familiar.

Hewney set the crossbow down on the bed, and said, "I'll promise not to stab you."  He quirked his eyebrows up and said, "Knives?  How many do you think I carry?"  He laughed lightly, and said, "I'll just head into the kitchen and you can call me if you need something."

Dak and Alvador found that there was little difficulty in returning down the stairs and heading out across the area to the place where they had left the horses.

Dak collected two of the horses to lead back to the tower and left the other two to Alvador.  He kept an eye out for any leftover goblins or dog faces.

He'd also made sure to close the tower door behind them so that Hewney and the elven Blood Priestess wouldn't have any surprise company while they were out.  So far things were going well and he didn't want to leave anything to chance.

Once Hewney left the room, Pathwyn apprehensively opened the chest.

Alvador led back the other two horses, noting that Dak had refrained from any 'Told-you-sos'. He waited until Dak opened the door after putting Chree in his special pocket.

Outside, Dak and Alvador were able to lead the horses along to the remnant of the courtyard, able to see the breech in the wall, although the rope was now absent on the side of the tower, as Chree sleepily settled into the pocket of the robe.

Inside, Pathwyn opened the chest in the bedroom as Hewney checked on the cooking bird.

"Let's tie them up here," Dak said, loooking up at the open hole in the wall.  "We can see them through the opening and Pathwyn and Hewney can shoot anyone trying to steal them more easily through the hole than a window."

He looked around for something to tie them to and wondered what the horses thought of the goblin bodies scattered about.  The horses wouldn't try to eat the dead bodies, would they?

Dak made sure to drag any bodies out of tempting reach.

Pathwyn laughed a little and closed chest.  "Typical."

She gathered up her weapons and Hewney's weapons strewn about and went to see the kitchen for herself.

She presented the crossbow and knife to Hewney in an arms extended pose that looked a little as is she might topple forward.

"I solved the case of the stabbed dog-face.  The rare one not stabbed by us, that is."

After Hewney took his gear back she curtsied briefly and continued with false affectation.

"When-upon our poor dog-face victim opened the chest he did succumb to the mortal sin of greed and made to secure the pouch of coins there-in for himself and himself alone.  At this time, his equally greedy pilferers turned from merely larcenous to murderous."

She brushed her hands together as if clapping away unseen dust.

"Case closed."

"Oh, there are plenty of dishes and such wrapped up in the bed linens," she said cocking her head and leaning to indicate her willingness to go fetch them.  "Are we going to investigate the 4th floor before or after dinner?"

Is there a table in the kitchen?

Outside, it seemed that using the large bits of stone would be an adequate hobble to keep the horses in the courtyard, though not being particularly close to the front door, it did not appear that there had been an intentional horse hitch here.

Hewney took back the knives, stowing them in sheaths at his waist, and set the crossbow on the counter.

"Odd," he said, tugging at one of the legs of the roasting bird.  "If he succumbed to greed, why would you be finding the coin inside the chest?"  He gave a shrug, and said, "Little matter, he's dead, and that's just as well.  It'll take a bit more for the bird to be done, so if Dak and Alvador hurry back up here, we can go upstairs and then come down to eat before we leave.  No point wasting the bird, and I'm guessing the dog-faces meant to eat it themselves, so it'll be safe enough."

There was not, however a table, in the kitchen.

"Suppose we can make a picnic of it in the bedroom?"

Alvador looked blank when he saw Dak start to drag bodies before he pitched in to help. Dak appeared to do so more easily then the half-elf.

With the horses secure and prevented from eating goblin brains, Dak used his spike to open the tower door for the two of them to reenter.  Again, he made sure the door was secure once they'd entered before starting back up the stairs to join the others.

Pathwyn nodded.

"There's a nice table and chairs on the first floor, but from up here we can keep an eye on the horses and any outside goings on.  These bodies have to go.  Not-one wants to eat with corpses strewn about."

For now she salvaged what arrows she could and dragged the two bodies from the bedroom to the hall between the kitchen and staircase landing with the other three.  Moving all the bodies out of the tower and hopefully burying them would have to wait 'til after they finished their search and meal.

"Ready to check out the fourth floor?" she asked Alvador and Dak when they returned.

Alvador nodded a Yes and vocally added, "Might as well start high and work down. One thing: When we go up, we should be as prepared as may be for a trap or something unfriendly. Probably not needed, but...."

"I'll keep an eye out then," Dak said, nodding at Alvador's suggestion as he looked up the stairway to the final level of the tower.  He was also thinking a few more dog faces might have tried to hide up there to and wait them out.  He'd be vigilant for both.

"Is the lantern still lit?" he asked, looking around for the device before leading the way up the stairs.

Pathwyn cut and rigged up a loop of rope slightly longer than the metal handle so that Dak could hold the lantern in his shield hand.  (A small shield allows you to hold something else with your off hand) and have it dangle below the shield so it won't block the light.

"I'd set it down if combat break out," she said to Dak, offering up the rope handle.  "I've seen people try to fight holding a lantern.  It usually doesn't work out well.  They spill oil on themselves, or break the lantern.  One sailor even set his captain's arm alight!  You'll be able to see just fine with it on the floor, but it gets chaotic waving it around to block blows."

"Oh, here's the tinderbox too."

She took the tinderbox out of her pack and gave it to Dak assuming he had some place to carry it.


Pathwyn followed Dak up the stairs.

Ascending the stairs again, now to the fourth floor, the stairs ended at a door which appeared to be set to open into the room ahead.  Affixed to the door was a painted sign which read "Knock four entry".

"I know this is a bit obvious, but try knocking four times," Pathwyn said.

Goofy wizards.

Alvador lingered by Hewney. "There are old mages and bold mages, but there are no old bold mages."

"Maybe that key would work again on this door,"  Dak proposed as he sheathed his sword and knocked four times.  So far Dak hadn't been impressed by the wizard's efforts at securing his sanctum.

In a rather anti-climatic turn, the door remained shut after Dak had knocked four times.  At least, nothing unpleasant had happened as a result.

Dak tried to open the door with his free hand.  Maybe knocking four times just unlocked it.

The door swung open easily enough in response.  The room revealed on the other side was quite a mess, large enough to fill the entire floor of the tower.  One wall had been blasted away, the floor showing signs of perhaps sagging a little in that direction.  On the other side, the windows had been shattered and the shutters hung drunkenly on their hinges, as though little kept them from falling away altogether, while the walls were scorched and blackened, and water was slicing its way in rivulets through the soot.  A workbench sat under the shuttered windows and upon the bench were two finely-tooled leather dagger sheaths, and adjacent was a bookcase with several books held within.

In the center of the room was the remnant of a magic circle, and within this circle was a heavily damaged book--scorched and sodden, and two daggers--one had a golden pommel with a red gemstone set in it, blood-red dyed suede wrapped around the grip, and a blade that looked like Barzilain iron and copper had been beaten together; the other had a silver pommel with a deep blue gem stone set in it, bleached-white suede wrapped around the grip, and a blade which appeared to be blued Barzilain iron beaten together with silver.

Dak moved into the room so the others could follow.  It looked like they'd found what they were looking for.  He stayed away from the hole in the wall and the unsteady floor.

"Who knows if the knocking even did anything," Pathwyn thinks out loud.

She followed Dak into the room.

"If knocking did unlock the door that trick would only keep out those who couldn't read Calandian.  I guess it did keep the dog-faces out.  Still, why post the note?"

It was puzzling, but the rest of the room solved another puzzle.  The explosion hadn't happened in the bedroom, it happened up here and the damage extend to the bedroom.

"Fire and Ice...  Well, here are your friend's daggers.  I think Gwysol's spellbook is toast, though.  Wet toast.  Don't walk into the circle.  We don't want to accidentally trigger another explosion."

How big is the circle?  Could Pathwyn touch the daggers with her spear without entering the circle?

The circle is about eight feet in diameter.

"Time for some help from the goddess."

Pathwyn stepped into the near corner of the room.  She grasped the holy symbol of Veja hanging around her neck and traced out the flowing rune of a flame with an inscribed eye invisibly in the air with 3 fingers.

"Suor tel'quiet linta Faer," she intoned placidly.

With an uncharacteristic air of concentration, Pathwyn took almost 2 minutes to meticulously scan the room.

Alvador, with things al quiet, went up to the next floor. He looked and said nothing while Pathwyn was doing something priestly.

Avoiding the circle, Dak walked around the more seemingly solid perimeter to collect the dagger sheaths.  He was also trying to figure out where the source of the blast had been.  It almost looked as though the center of the room had been less damaged than the rest.  Book and daggers were still on the table while the rest was in disarray.

"What do you know about these circles, Alvador?" said Hewney, looking at the circle on the floor.  "Safe to grab those daggers?  Probably the ones need fetching."

Picking up the empty sheaths, Dak looked back to the center of the room.  It must have been a trick of the eye, but there was no table within the circle.  The book and daggers lay directly on the floor within.

"The circle is dead, no magic at all, only the daggers are dangerous," she said in a rushed blur.

"Quick," she said to Alvador.  "Show me the apprentice's spellbook."

"Please," she added with a smile.  Haste is no reason to be impolite.

When he showed it to her she immediately bolted out the door and down the stairs to the third floor with a joyful squeal.

"Should we be running, too?" Dak asked as he walked over to Hewney and handed the half-elf the dagger sheathes.

"All those works probably relate to magic. If the book in the circle is the one he wnants, we should take it...take it anyway on that chance. The mess sure, as you probbly have guessed, looks like a failed experiment; but htres a reason or two he didn't come back but sent you, Hewney. Did the mage say you could appropriate stuff?"

Before he could say more, he handed the apprentice's spellbook to Pathyen. When she ran out, he blinked, "hmmped", "Well, she's onto something" and he followed.

"Well, these daggers," said Hewney, gingerly moving to sheath one and set it on his belt to his left, and then the other to the right, "I'm supposed to pick up for someone else.  Wizard got hurt here, wants the spellbooks.  Two different jobs, so to speak.  I don't know if you can tell which one are the spellbooks he wants and which are other stuff?"

He shook his head at Dak, and said, "Don't know why the lady's running off.  Don't think the bird's going to burn just yet."

Downstairs, Pathwyn began looking around at the things long the way that might have otherwise seemed unremarkable.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:21, Thu 09 July 2020.

Pathywn regarded the pile of dog-face bodies, and peeked into the kitchen, but the master bedroom was her main destination.  Mimicking what she had done in the bigger room one floor above, the priestess stood in the corner and carefully scanned from one side to the other.  She got 90% of the way done before the spell fizzled.

"Awwwww," she sighed in disappointment as her vision returned to boring old normal sight (plus Infravision, of course, but that was normal to her.)

With a deep breath Pathwyn quickly perked back up and a smile returned to her face.  She went over to the side of the ruined bed and got down on her hands and knees.  She swept aside torn book pages, fragments of wood, stone debris, and clumps of fabric, uncovering a quarterstaff.  She brushed off her dress as she stood, bending back over to pick up the staff.

Brandishing the staff, Pathwyn went back upstairs in much less of a hurry.

"Well..." she said upon her return.  "I found this."

Alvador went back up the stairs, trailing Pathwyn.

By the time Pathwyn returned, Dak had acquired the book from the circle.  He flipped through the pages to see if there were any pictures that indicated it was a spellbook.

"Nice stick," said Hewney.  "Alvador, you want to take a look at these books?"  He gestured at the bookcase.

"How do you tell if it's the right spell book?" Dak asked, turning his book around to show them one of the more interesting pictures.

"Did he give us a description of what we're looking for?"

When she ran into him on the third floor, Pathwyn returned the apprentice's spellbook to Alvador.

"Thank you," she said with a small curtsey.  "I was hoping to compare it to Qwysol's spellbook, or what I thought might be his spellbook.  I'm rather new to divination.  I can really use the practice."

Then she beamed at Alvador.

"I LOVE magic!" she said to him as if confiding a secret.  "I'm sure you know the feeling.  It's a bit like a dream, but you're awake!  Unreal."

"...and I feel closer to the goddess too."

"This whole trip has been a thrill.  Riding, shooting, exploring, casting!  Thank you for involving me."

She reached her left arm around the young mage's back, squeezing his upper arm lightly and giving him a half hug.

'Oh, there's a spell on these stairs," she mentioned as they ascended to the fourth floor.

"It's an authentic enchanted wizard's staff."

Pathwyn held the staff out so that she and anyone else who was interested could give it a good look.  Was there anything to differentiate it from the typical unadorned quarterstaff you might buy from the provisioner?

"You know, for an enchanter Qwysol sure doesn't have many magic items around his tower.  If *I* was an enchanter I'd have a magic pillow and blankets, a magic dress, a magic wash tub..."

She pondered for a moment.

"Maybe this sort of explosion situation is more common than you hear.  That would explain why he'd try to keep his enchanting to a minimum."

Alvador made no move to go to the shelves. He asked, "Did the mage describe what he wanted? Did he ask for anything beside a certain spellbook? Dis he indicate that we coud take anything for our own use? And did he explain why he couldn't come here himself?"

"He was pretty bad hurt, from what I was told," said Hewney.  "I didn't see him direct, just one of the acolytes from the St Vallon House, they're the ones paying, said 'spellbook' but I don't know if that means lots of books or if we should just take every thing and give it over to the folk caring for him.  They said he was bad burned and kinda out of it."

Dak closed the wet burnt book that no one else thought was the right one and put it next to the stairway door.  At the very least he thought it told you how to blow up a tower from the inside.  That sounded like a magic spellbook to him.

Alvador nodded. "Then we should take everything we can haul that we think he might want." He thinks a moment. "We can make a travois, or more than one. It'll slow us down; we may need to stay her overnight or camp."
This message was lightly edited by the player at 21:49, Fri 10 July 2020.

"Anything valuable we leave here will be stolen by the next pack of dog-faces, or goblins, or humans, or whoever comes along.  We owe it to Gwysol to salvage what we can for him,"  Pathwyn said in agreement.

"Has anyone seen a shovel around here?"

"Wasn't looking for one," said Hewney.  "What do you want it for?"

"For starters, we're knee deep in little monster corpses.  It'd be good to dig a hole and bury them so this place doesn't start stinking to high heaven and attracting every carrion scavenger for 20 miles."

"Also it'd give us another option for what to do with Gwysol's goodies.  If we can't safely haul 'em back to Shipton we might be able to bury the cache someplace nice and hidden for him to collect at a later date.  Bring back just the minimum.  His book, the apprentice's book, and the daggers for your friend.  Tell Gwysol where the rest is buried."

Pathwyn shrugged.

"But mostly the corpses."

Avador considered, "Burn them if you think disposal is warranted. Anybody around here knows of this place."

"Let's just stuff them out a window and carry what we can," Dak said.  "It takes forever to dig a hole or collect enough wood to burn a body and I don't think we should be here once it's dark.

"I don't think it's our job to save everything, just the spellbook."

Dak looked around for a convenient window to start shoving bodies.  At least they were small.  He just had to avoid spooking the horses.  Even he'd get up and run if bodies started falling from the sky.

Pathwyn ponders the situation and then nods.

"Dak's right.  I'm not opposed to putting in hard work, but without shovels, axes, saws, and other tools a mass grave or a huge funeral pyre is going to take more time than we should spend out here."

"Let's take a break, eat some bird, discuss what to bring back to Gwysol, and then pack up and ride back to the church."

"Will there be room in that chest?" said Hewney, ready to head downstairs to the kitchen with its roasting bird.  "We could put the books in that, perhaps.  And that other chest down in the room I think was the apprentice."

Alvwador pointed out, "What we leave here will get picked over. I think we should take everything feasible. IO still stink travoises are feasible. Boards are available."

Dak walked over to look at the chest for Hewney to guess how many books they could fit into it.  He also picked up one end to see how heavy it was.  Were they going to drag it behind the horses or try to carry it between two of them?

The chest, when Dak hefted one end was fairly light, but the clunk of coins in a bag suggested that there might be some significant weight within, although a peek into the chest revealed that there was space for several books, at least.

Why hadn't the dog faces taken the coins as part of their loot?  Especially after stabbing the one that opened it.  Maybe there was a big spider or snake inside or something.

Carefully, Dak tipped over the chest to dump it's contents onto the floor.

The contents of the chest rolled out with a thump, and then the clatter of a number of silver coins spilling across the floor from within the bag that had contained the lot within the chest.

"There's plenty of room for books, now," Dak announced, bending down to see what else was in the chest.  "Just figure out which ones look like spellbooks and we can fill it up."

Other than the large sack of coins, the chest was empty--of course, the torn fragments of books and parchment and ripped clothing scattered about the room suggested that it had not always been so prior to the arrival of the dog-faces.

Dak picked up the sack and corralled the loose coins back into it before dropping the sack back into the chest and dragging it over toward the door.

"Just pick out the books you want to take back and we'll fill it up," he said, picking up his soggy book to be the first into the chest.

"So there are the two chests, which we'll fill with the apprentice's stuff and the books respectively.  There's all the stuff the dog-faces bundled up here in the master bedroom.  There's the staff and the daggers, and these coins..."

Pathwyn took a bite of roasted bird meat and chewed before continuing.  It was tasty, but dry.  She was glad to have plenty of water to wash in down.

"Is there anything else we should bring back to Shipton?  Maybe something from the larder?  Is it worth searching the goblins and dogfaces or trying to sell their weapons?"

Alvador considered, "I'd say books and papers first, then implements, then valuables. After that, we can see how much time and capacity we have. Apologies for harping, but carrying stuff will be easier with travoises."

Pathwyn smiled.

"Of course we'll use a travois or two.  In fact, why don't you take charge of setting them up and pick which horse to hook them up to.  I'll get to dragging all these dog-face corpses out of the tower and then help load Gwysol's stuff."

Alvador said, "Right. I'll toss boards, bedding, and ordinary clothes out the window. But I think it'd be a bad idea for me to go off to cut off and trim some branches."