Session 211: Worms, Whining, and a Whole Lot of Oil

Day 28 of Ready'reat - Day 1 of Sunsebb CY 576

Gather ‘round, you tavern-sitters and ale-soakers! Old Vilma has a fresh tune to sing, and if it’s a bit off-key, well, so was the screaming of that Spectre when the rangers finally put a magic arrow through its cold heart.

Our local "heroes"—you know the lot: Feno the elven fighter, Arnd the brave dwarf, Gnorcia the gnome, and that strange druid-ranger Niki —stumbled back into Orlane last night, smelling like napalm and greasy ash. They’ve been slogging through the Barrowmaze in the marsh, and by the looks of their muddy boots, the marsh was winning for a while.

They tell a foul tale of sons of chaos, disgusting wiggling things filled with worms that close their wounds even as you hack at them. Apparently, when these horrors showed up, half the party decided it was a grand time for a terror-fueled jog out of the dungeon. Even Sergius and Lhoss were seen booking it, though they claim it was a "strategic retreat". I call it running until you’re halfway to the exit.

But don't you worry, the little gnome Gnorcia and the ones who didn't lose their lunch held the line. They turned those worm-men into flaming popcorn with flasks of oil while the spectre watched on, held back by the heat. I’ve been singing about it all night in the common room, even if Myr is more interested in when they’re finally going to buy him that feast he was promised.

They didn't come back empty-handed, though. They found a glittering pile of treasure and a noted a strange four-foot plug with a ring made of cold iron in the floor. There was even a poem in ancient Elvish about "three souls' sweet breath" and "keys from ghosts set free". Sounds like a lot of work just to open a hole in the floor if you ask me.

The strangest bit? They brought back a silver crown that turns out to be a cursed crown of forgetfulness. Anyone who puts it on wanders off in a stupor, forgetting who they are. I told them they should’ve let a certain sneaky thief try it on, but they decided to play it safe.

So, if you see Sergius looking a bit taller today, it’s because he finally learned how to swing that specialized axe of his without hitting his own toes—he’s a third-level fighter now, though it cost him nearly every coin he had to get the training.

Stay tuned, Orlane. As long as there’s treasure to be lugged and spectres to be scorched, Vilma will have a story—and perhaps another round of Waterale if someone’s buying!