The murderhoboes
Zaber, suave and debonaire man
Stonemaul, half-orc holy warrior
What they did
After Val's touching funeral, we're at the Slumbering Drake: Thrognar, Stonemaul, Polly, Garreth, Bleu, Logan, and I. Thrognar has found epic plate with Fortify 2 and Lighten 25%. He shows it off to us; it fits like a glove and he has polished it to a mirror-like sheen. Polly says, "Oh, hey, Thrognar, cool armor. That's even more like Garreth."
I tell the others about the teachings of the book, how it has given me wisdom. No, guys, this is not telling me to stop drinking. Well, it did, but I skipped those parts.
Anyways, I ask Garreth, "So G, about that time when we were with Seep and she had us dragging that … Garreth? Where the hell did you go?" I lean over to Logan. "Logan, see if you can find Garreth. He seems to have sobered up again."
Logan spots brings me a man who isn't Garreth but who is similar to Garreth in a walking mass of armor kind of way. I ask him, "Oh, hey there, you know Garreth?"
The armored stranger shakes his head. "I don't know a Garreth."
Polly says, "Oh! Garreth is like Thrognar but even bigger and even greener!"
I shrug. "Well, it doesn't matter, since he's not here and we need help smashing skulls to liberate kegs."
The armored stranger asks, "Who are the kegs?"
What a silly question. "I don't care whose they are, I just need to free all of them. I shall be the master of the kegs in Whiterock."
The armored stranger points at a keg. "There is a keg of water over there, perhaps that one would be a good target to start."
I ask, "Can you cast 'water to whiskey'?"
The armored stranger says, "No, But I know how to cast Sot to Sober. The ritual goes something like this: Drink the water, wash with the rest of it, repeat until done."
Thrognar leans over to the armored stranger. "He's much more effective this way, I assure you. Fight like you train after all."
I blink before belching. "Yeah! Those suckers who train should do so as they are!"
Polly pipes up, "He doesn't like hard carrot juice, though."
Ibizaber grins. "For you, Polly, I'll drink it."
We find that the armored stranger is named Mikal. Mikal tells us his tale:
After the funeral, the local priest of Justicia came to Mikal. "Brother Mikal, Justicia has called upon you to carry the glorious fight to the enemy which is in need of smiting."
Mikal said, "Excellent, the smiting will commence when these worthies are prepared to return into the deep."
The priest said, "Brother Maul and Brother Thrognar carry blessings against the enemy, but you must also accompany Ibizaber, for while he is slothful and drunkardly, it is he who has struck the most mortal blows upon evil. You can find him and his companions at the Slumbering Drake." He then cast Bless 2 on Mikal.
I take back everything nice I said about that damn priest.
So, Garreth being elsewhere, we take Mikal with us to Whiterock. We go back in. The tunnel twists before opening into a large hollow. One of the walls has been smoothed and bedecked with a painted mural showing a great church whose spire reaches into the sky, past spinning spheres and falling comets, eventually reaching a realm of golden light and smiling, beatific faces.
A comely female elf dressed in a mix of courtly gowns and metal armor looks at the mural. Her eyes lack irises, her long, wild hair hangs down her back, tumbling over her blue-tinged shoulder.
Garreth shows up as soon as F'thirya says, "Ah, so you are not all having met your demises I see, we meet again."
Garreth says, "There was the poor wizard who got spider squashed. Did you know about the spider?"
F'thirya says, "Verily didst I warn you of the foul Bebelith, yes."
Hold on, what? I'm a little bothered. "You knew about that? We could have saved Val if you told us."
F'thirya says, "I did tell you about it, do I not speak in the common tongue? Do you not have ears?"
I reach up to make sure I still have his ears. I still do.
Thrognar says, "Mayhap we didn't heed her warnings."
She says, "I said, 'Anon and thusly (pointing generally NW) lieth a grave predator of demon-kind, though it will sup on any’s savor. Watch thy step there, else the great spider cracketh thine bones, but pass through its demesne thee must to approach foul Balfosa.'"
I blush, and Garreth sighs.
F'thirya changes the topic. "This room is a place that brings comfort and rest in this fell realm."
I grin. "So this is like a party room?"
Garreth blinks at me. "You know she's not … never mind. I guess you'll figure it out."
F'thirya, however, says, "Sure bring any good part stuff? Verily it is true to the spirit of Chaotic Good to have righteous parties"
Thrognar says, "Maybe we save the party for after we've sanctified the place? At the very least, we can rest here." Party pooper.
F'thirya agrees, "Maybe you can bring elven cookies as well as the heads of the unholy."
Garreth asks for suggestions. F'thirya says, "May some day you must test thy might against that of the dread Balfosa, though thou mayest wish to strike down the lesser among the unholy before you do strive against that foe. Make thy path to the West from here, and you may strive against a foe dark both with Order and Evil." She and Mikal also warn him about the risk of dealing with wishes from demons. He shrugs, and drinks a whole flask of my whiskey.
I hold it upside down, and a single drop falls out of it. "Damn." I put away the empty flask, put on my ring, and scout at Garreth's behest. I start poking around to the west, and not far away, I see a nine-foot-tall winged horror with great horns and a blackened scaly hide, wielding a giant staff.
The usual for down here.
I step back down the tunnel and take off my ring. Polly asks, "What's up, Zaber? Why we stopping?"
I tell her the truth. "There's a big guy with horns and wings and scales and a big staff." I look at her for a moment. "I'm pretty sure it's not Nature, Polly, so please don't go there." I put back on my ring, Garreth asks Bleu to cast a bunch of Dark Vision spells, and he and Thrognar start meditating.
Thrognar bursts out from his meditation and rushes towards the demon, and hits. Its hide and skull are thick, and an aura wards it, but Thrognar's penetrating silvered blade cleaves in. He nearly scalps it, leaving a hideous wound, though to be fair it was already pretty ugly. Now on the ground, he keeps carving it up.
The demon bursts. Demonic bits and screeching plagues of red devouring swarms spray all over.
From there, we all start chopping away at the swarms. The bugs come near to taking me down, but I get out and let the others do their work. Mikal hits a swarm with Sunbolt, Logan keeps clawing at the bugs, Polly shoots them for reasons I cannot fathom, and the others go after the bugs in a flurry of sword blows. After a few seconds, they are all gone.
Logan and I take some glugs from the wineskin of healing, and the others cast healing spells. After some poking around, I find a staff. We bring it back to the party room, and Ms. Blah starts talking about it. "Oh yes, this is a Striking Staff. It is often used by certain sects of monks as it is a useful tool on pilgrimages but allows the wielder to defend themselves. It multiplies the force of blows so may send those which are struck tumbled hither and yon, as described by Morris Mothwick in 'Among the Inthriki' …."
Logan licks my face after what seems like forever, but I was asleep only a few minutes.
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