Session 40 - Looking for a place to rest

The players:

Sir Thornston Snow (Hedge Knight)
Valkomen Gimilzor (Paladin of House Branch)
Nachtheim of Blancshale (Student of Magic) Absent
Friar Bede (Cleric of the Old Gods)
Fritjof (The locksmith)
Karr Bidebit (Dwarf Dwarf)


Setting:
June 17, 997 Third Age
Summer
Cloudy
61/46 Degrees
At the Broken tower of the Old Keep

Our dwarf determines the tower is unsafe! Everyone leaves for safer ground.

Check out a camp ground!
The stables

Attacked by  men? and two wolves

Session 39 - (Valkomen Gimilzor POV) - No Paladin Don't Open That Door!

Session 39 - No Paladin Don't Open That Door!

The Players

Sir Thornston Snow (Hedge Knight)
Valkomen Gimilzor (Paladin of House Branch)
Nachtheim of Blancshale (Student of Magic)
Saint Bede (Cleric of the Old Gods Most Holy Man Alive)
Fritjof (The locksmith)
Karr Bidebit (Dwarf Dwarf)

To be honest I was getting bored with this mission.  Only bandits, dragons, and spiders to fight.  Then Fritjof the Superb Locksmith came to me bearing Great News!  A great and terrible demon was beyond the door to the next room.  Half intrigued I got close to the door and used my blessed powers granted by the Trees to detect a Horrible Fiend inside that room!

Immediately and to the great dismay of my comrades I opened the door and stepped inside.  My comrades may jest at my readiness to cross swords with foul evil creatures.  However once the battle starts they do very well indeed.  This foul creature was very mighty and I took a wound and felt the dark touch drain my life and soul.  However we beat it.  We are still alive and therefore stronger.

The Demon had a treasure in the room.  I took a handful of silver.  Now I have some to give to our Great Saint when he ask. Disappointed the beast sword was not a type I could use.  Our Saint took it though.  Seems very attached to it and the demons crown.  No worries.  This whole episode fills me with vigor.  We are close to Jezzer and righteous revenge for the slain children.

Session 39 - Broken Tower

Session 39 - Broken Tower

The players:

Sir Thornston Snow (Hedge Knight)
Valkomen Gimilzor (Paladin of House Branch)
Nachtheim of Blancshale (Student of Magic)
Friar Bede (Cleric of the Old Gods)
Fritjof (The locksmith)
Karr Bidebit (Dwarf Dwarf)


Setting:
June 17, 997 Third Age
Summer
Cloudy
61/46 Degrees
At the Broken tower of the Old Keep

Session 38 (A foiled magical assassination)

So we(the locksmith--wink, wink-- and I) arrived at the dilapidated bridge, and the winged statues took to flight.  Valkomen, the enemy arrow holder, wandered off into the swamp.  He was investigating some old rags.  Snow, smarter than he looks or sounds, warned that it looked like a trap, and that is when the pincushion found the water lizard.  They did not need my help to bring the lizard down.

Meanwhile, the locksmith, who I thought was a trig thief, couldn't figure out the lock and started talking nonsense about floating across the moat in empty barrels.

Snow was wasting time looking for wood to reinforce the perfectly safe bridge.  I mean, I crossed it just fine.

The locksmith proved to be underwhelming, and we had to find another way into the keep.

As we prepared to cross at the ruined tower, one of my trusted companions revealed themselves to be a magical assassin.  In the heat of battle with the winged statue people, the trig bastard charmed my dagger to strike me.  If I had not regained control at the last second, I would be dead.
 
It was too advanced of a plan for charge first, ask questions later.  The little guy is, well, just little, and I don't see it.  Snow is a possibility.  He may have been angry about the bridge.  Perhaps it was the locksmith, and he is as trig as I thought--- just not a locksmith at all.  The friar and his old gods may be plotting against me.

It seems my old enemies have found me, or as was the case with my mentor, one of these companions has grown jealous of my abilities.  In either case, I must keep a clear head and a vigilant eye.

Evil is everywhere.

Session 38 (St. Bedici) - Gargoyled!

It was whilst the boredom of waiting upon that priggish burglar that the holy ghost moved within the corrupt paladin and myself. But him first, my hand to the old gods!

He stumbled out into the muck as a drunken sailor on shore leave to fetch a sheepskin perhaps spent or not... and was promptly nearly eaten alive in one gooble by the largest swamp dragon we've ever seen. Crackles erupted fore and aft. But I dismounted in turn with the dwarvish dwarf in lock step with that airy hedge, and the battle began. Somehow it was my Flail I'm sure that slay the beast! And while the paladin dragged his next dine ashore I laid my hands on myself and him! Glory!

And just in time for the fair burglar and fey magician squealed from afar about a bridge not worth taking or not taking afore testing or some nonsense and the commotion was great, ere I led my ass to be tied soundly as to not buck or bray at the fuss.

Refusing historically sound water travel by barrel, in meantime, a log had been lain and  like lazy lumberjacks played crossing games. In twos they straddled the topsy turvy pole and made landfall beyond at the obvious door.

Twas then sight became sound and those peering Gargoyles gave flight and strafed at the earth beneath us! A sanctuary surrounded me at once and I stand ready for their returns.

Session 38 - At the Old Keep

The players:

Sir Thornston Snow (Hedge Knight)
Valkomen Gimilzor (Paladin of House Branch)
Nachtheim of Blancshale (Student of Magic)
Friar Bede (Cleric of the Old Gods)
Fritjof (The locksmith)
Karr Bidebit (Dwarf Dwarf)


Setting:
June 17, 997 Third Age
Summer
Cloudy
61/46 Degrees
At the door of the Old Keep

The group does some investigating in the gatehouse.

The fighters have a battle with an alligator.

Before entering the keep they are attacked by gargoyles.

Session 37 (Bede) - Sore Thumbs

Assuming that the three separate groups of robbers that have plagued our merry band at each furlong had a retreating warning scout, our gallivant is widely known, most likely all the way to the keep itself. None of our nightly discomforts were necessary, the hard ground and pounding rain have only soured our resolve, possibly even the paladin's sanity.

But no matter now, the deed is done and here we are, wet, tired, and wounded, with no silver to show for it. And the hedge knight's discovery of the spidery monogram bodes ill (for some) indeed. This slippery magician has the right idea, I too will lean back and watch fate unfold before us.

Session 37 - Road to the Old Keep

The players:

Sir Thornston Snow (Hedge Knight)
Valkomen Gimilzor (Paladin of House Branch)
Nachtheim of Blancshale (Student of Magic)
Friar Bede (Cleric of the Old Gods)
Fritjof (The locksmith)
Karr Bidebit (Dwarf Dwarf)


Setting:
June 16, 997 Third Age
Summer
Cloudy
61/46 Degrees
On the road to "the old keep" from two harbors

After defeating the hill tribesmen the gathers themselves to move forward.

The group "takes care" of the bandits / tribemen and move forward.

One hour in the group comes across another ambush.

Valkomen charges and falls. Thornston unleashes a volley of arrows to hold them back.

Further up the road Thornston sees this symbol carved in the road.

Near the keep, and with Valkomen unconscious the only alternative is to camp overnight. They find a dry spot at the south end of the wetlands.
It is a cheerless night, they do not dare light a fire. Three watches are arranged. The night goes by fairly uneventful except for a harmless snake, a hungry bear, and some lantern lights that are dismissed as an illusion over the bog waters.

The next morning the adventures head out to the destination of the Old Keep through the wetlands. Not far into the washed out road they are attacked by Sleestaks. Nachtheim saves the day with a sleep spell and Fritjof  wants to see if they taste like chicken.

Fritjof  scouts ahead and sees the ruins. He thinks they are being watched by some gargoyles perched up on one of the ruined towers.

On the road

It would appear as if we have all gathered and are ready to move on.  It suits us well; We have stayed too long in this place. The fool Snow lost a fight to a prancing clown with a toothpick.  It serves Sir this and Sir that right; pride in one’s station will lead to a fall.  

I must worry about the pirate and the pike.  Who is is this witch in the woods?  No one  knew the answer.

 

The friar is a reticent one.  He pocketed Mr. Holy’s coin and offered those prayers to the tree in his mind.  Not an unproven method, but lacking imagination and flair.  We will have to observe the good friar and his good deeds.

As for Mr. Holy and his showy armor, and his showy horse, let the fool give his coin to save his soul.  We know that we are all just the imagined thoughts of some absent jester signifying nothing.  Mr Holy is the least of our concerns.  I must keep an eye on the road and be sure they do not follow us.

We waste our time at the tree with a crude cupboard carved in it and the “scary black candles.”  Mr. Holy wants to waste even more time fishing.  Yet more evidence of a simple mind.

Yes, I agree, the locksmith and the mini dwarf are trig and very dangerous.  The mini dwarf turning away in mid-charge, as if he couldn’t ride down those brigands; very trig.

The locksmith and his "oops the wagon ran over my foot,” and that foolishness about the pike.  He is nasty.   “Oh, let me give my offering.” Blah, blah, blah. 

They both are likely servants of the Dark Hand.  What den of vipers have we fallen in with?

I was too busy looking for them behind us on the road that we almost missed the trap.  Sir this and Mr. Holy go charging towards the fallen tree and the viking hat, and the trig mini dwarf charges his pony towards the brigands in the bush.  I laud his performance as he jerked that pony around and charged back. And the locksmith pretending he couldn’t use that sling.  Ha, do they take us for a paranoid fool?

Who put them all to bed?  

Make sure I watch the road.

Session 36 Hounds Tooth Inn ---An impatient traveler---

Perched on a chair, Nachtheim, looks around the inn, pulling on greasy strands of his hair.  After a few moments, he rises for the countless time, his sweat and dirt stained robes touching the floor.  The color of the robes faded long ago.  He walks across the room towards the window, stepping between several groups of patrons without offering a word.  He stares out the window, turns, surveys the room once again, and walks back with little regard for others in his path.

“How much more time will we waste before we leave?”