Day 11 of Ready'reat
Well now, pull up a stool and warm your bones by the hearth. Old Vilma’s got a new tale for you, fresh from the whispers on the wind and the mouths of our own brave adventurers. It’s a strange one, full of echoes and arguments, treasures and teeth, and a friendship forged in the most peculiar of circumstances!
Our heroes—they call themselves the Saviors of Orlane, you know — were deep, deep underground in that cold and dreary Barrowmaze. Not a place for the faint of heart, I tell you. They had just finished a tussle with some nasty gargoyles and were headed back to a room where they suspected a bit of treasure was waiting for them.
But what do they find when they peek around the corner? Not treasure, not yet. They find another group of adventurers staring right back at them! And wouldn't you know it, this other group, led by a haughty elf named Findaloo, calls themselves the Fearsome Five!. This is the first time they have encountered another adventuring party in the Barrowmaze! The world is only so big, I suppose.
A proper standoff it was! Our heroes said they’d slain the gargoyles to earn the treasure. Findaloo’s lot claimed the gargoyles were already vanquished by the power of their deities when they arrived. To prove their valor, our lot pulled out the very heads of the gargoyles they’d slain, including the great leader, Zigbrawl! A fine bit of proof, that. But this Findaloo, slippery as an eel, just scoffs and has one of his friends pull out a tiny vial of acid, claiming they’d defeated a black dragon that had moved in after the gargoyles. A vial of acid! Can you imagine the cheek?
And in the middle of all this was our dwarf, Arn, having a bit of an identity crisis. The other group’s dwarves looked at him, jaw-to-the-floor, claiming Arn Cobblestone had been missing for decades. Forty-five years, they said!. Our Arn insisted it couldn't have been that long — he’d have starved!. But they told him time can get a bit funny in the Barrowmaze. A mystery for another day, that one.
Things got heated. Accusations of being part of the dreaded Band of the Black Hand were thrown about. It all came down to a bit of magic. The noble cleric Armanzi was to cast a spell on Findaloo to see if he was evil. The elf agreed: if he was found to be not evil, our heroes had to let them pass. Armanzi cast his spell, and what did he find? The elf leader was True Neutral, his dwarven friends were Lawful Neutral, their cleric was Chaotic Neutral… but they had a thief with them, a woman named Dazdra, who was Chaotic Evil! Our Norsha gave her a little wink, can you believe it?
The other group left, claiming there was no treasure in the room to begin with. But our heroes are cleverer than that. They searched, and Feno found a small latch, high up on a wall. Behind it? A secret chamber with two massive chests spilling over with thousands of silver and copper coins! So heavy it would take an ox to move it all.
But wait, the story doesn't end there! As they were counting the coins, Feno spotted another latch, in the exact same spot on the opposite wall. This one opened into a larger room, filled with even more promising treasures. But the floor was hollow, dangerously so. As Los, our nimble elven thief, began to spider-climb along the walls to investigate, the entire floor collapsed into a bottomless pit, leaving only a narrow ledge where the treasure sat! Arn was nearly on it himself! A close call!
Los, brave as ever, reached the ledge and began to gather the valuables. But as she did, one of the chests sprang to life! It was a vile mimic, a monster of legend, with a ferocious mouth full of teeth!. It struck poor Los down in a single blow, and she lay there bleeding on the edge of the abyss.
Things looked grim. But then, the strangest thing happened. The mimic spoke!. It wasn't just a monster; it was hungry! It had been forced to guard the treasure by the gargoyles and hadn't been fed in weeks. A deal was struck. Our heroes offered a bottle of fine Orlanian wine in exchange for their friend's life. Nikki, with her plant Fernadette wrapped strangely around her neck, bravely crossed the chasm on a rope to deliver the wine and heal Los.
The mimic, who introduced himself as Myrr, the mimic, was so grateful. Armanzi then used his divine power to create a grand feast for the starving creature. Myrr was so moved by the cleric’s kindness that a holy light enveloped him. He turned to Armanzi, gently touched his hand, and in a flash of divine power, all of the cleric’s spent spells were restored! A blessed mimic! Who has ever heard of such a thing? Myrr has now pledged to leave the dungeon and come back to Orlane with them!
And the treasure? Among the coffers, Armanzi felt a pull to a large brass one. Inside was no gold, but something far greater: the Rebrace of St. Cuthbert, a long-lost holy artifact that attaches to the gauntlet he already bears!.
So you see, a day that began with a bitter argument ended with a blessed meal, a peculiar new friend, and a piece of a holy suit of armor. You never know what you’ll find in the dark, do you? Sometimes it’s a monster, and sometimes… that monster just needs a decent meal and a bit of kindness.
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