Session 185: Calbach becomes...hot?

Well now, gather 'round, you little sparrows, for old Vilma's got a tale for ya, fresh as a daisy – though maybe a slightly moldy one, know what I mean? Seems our brave (or maybe just bewildered) adventurers were at it again in that dusty old barrel maze on the 27th day of… well, the year the chickens started laying square eggs, or thereabouts.

They were fiddling with that contraption, that Roll Twenty, right there in their Discord doohickey. Sounded like they were trying to wrangle spirits into their talking boxes. Knuck couldn't even log in at first! Then they were all clicking and joining, trying to see maps right there on their glowy screens. Fancy that! Back in my day, maps were drawn on parchment, and if you wanted to see 'em, you had to hold 'em right-side up yourself. None of this clicky-clacky business.

They were deep in the maze, somewhere around day seventeen of Patchwall, if you can believe such things. Sounded like they were in the middle of a barrel maze, which, let me tell you, is just asking for trouble. Barrels rolling every which way, probably full of who-knows-what. My Cousin Clem once found a whole nest of grumpy earwigs in a barrel. But these weren't worried about earwigs, oh no.

First thing they did was poke around some old archway. Now, archways can be funny things. Sometimes they whisper secrets, sometimes they just give you a draft. This one… well, it seemed to have a mind of its own last time they went through. But this time, when Callback – that one with the peculiar smell, you know the one – went through, nothin' happened to him. Not a thing! Though the fella narrating did have a giggle about a pig getting turned inside out. Don't ask me.

Then they went tippy-tapping down hallways with a ten-foot pole. Always a good idea. You never know what's lurking in those shadows. They found some rooms with bits and pieces of bodies. Skulls and ribs and such. Looked like somethin' had a good old munch. Gives you the shivers, don't it?

One room smelled somethin' fierce. Not good fierce, mind you, the kind that makes your nose hairs curl up and run away. Callback, bless his curious heart (or maybe his addled brain), had to go peekin'. Found some trash and bits. Then he borrowed a light and went right in. Found piles of somethin'. Turns out it was a slumped mass of rot in the corner, with flies buzzing and things shiftin' underneath. Then it popped and sprayed goo all over Callback! Oh, he was a mess, covered in stench. Tried washin' with his waterskin, but it just made him wet, sticky, and stinkier. Serves him right for pokin' his nose where it don't belong, if you ask me.

Then came the archway again! They went back through it, and wouldn't you know it? All that nasty stink vanished from Callback! Not only that, he smelled pleasant, like an oil prince. His hair was combed, his clothes were clean, even his boots were polished. Like he'd just come from a spa day! All the lady adventurers were lookin' at him different. It's like a shell peeled off him, they said. Odd as a three-legged cat, I tell you.

They stumbled upon a familiar room with a big pointy obelisk. Seemed like they'd knocked it over before. Gives you a bad feeling, those obelisks. They just stand there, judgin'. Nora, bless her cautious soul, didn't want to go any further. So they backtracked again.

Then they got themselves in a real pickle. They opened a sarcophagus, and out popped a cadaverous creature covered in green worms! Ugh! Gave everyone the frights. Callback and Arin ran off screamin'. Even Cairo and Nikki took off like startled rabbits. Feno joined in the fleein' too. Only Dwaram and Nora had the gumption to stand their ground.

There was a lot of fuss about savin' throws and initiatives. Sounded like a right kerfuffle. Los chucked a vial of oil at the wormy thing, then lit it with her candle. Missed the first time! But then she swung her staff and whacked that creature good! It crumbled into a puddle of slime. Good riddance, I say!

Poor Los got some of those worms on her too. Nora had to take her torch and burn 'em right off! Gave her a bit of a burn, but better than having worms wrigglin' under your skin, eh?

Then Nikki, while runnin' fit to burst, started castin' a cure disease spell on Callback. Took a good while, but it worked! Them nasty worms popped and dissolved. He was healed, though still had a faint whiff of rot along with his good smell. Queer business, this barrel maze.

Arin, meanwhile, was grabbin' a gold necklace from the sarcophagus. Never let a good treasure go to waste, that one.

After all that hullabaloo, they regrouped, wonderin' which way to go. Seemed like east was the preferred direction. Found a room with more piles of bones. Then they heard noises from the east. Ominous, I tell you.

Los, never one to shy away from a bit of… well, oddness, licked her finger to check for a breeze. Bless her heart. Then she tossed her last bit of oil on a jagged mound of rusty tools and bones, and set it alight with her torch. Up popped a mournful apparition that just looked at them and then vanished as the bones burned to slag.

Well, that’s where they left it for the night. Sounds like another grand adventure in that topsy-turvy barrel maze. You never know what those youngsters will get up to next! And between you and me, I wouldn't be surprised if that archway has more tricks up its stony sleeve. Keep your ears peeled, little sparrows, Vilma will have more tales before you know it!

Session 184: The log book of Vilma continues

Well now, isn't this a curious notion! Old Vilma here, tapping away at this… this glowy box thingy. They say it sends words out into the air like dandelion seeds on a summer breeze. Fascinating! And you want me to tell you about our brave adventurers, the ones who keep poking around in that smelly old barrowmaze? Bless their hearts, they're an odd bunch, but they’ve got spirit, that’s for certain.

Just the other day, it sounds like they found themselves a secret entrance! Imagine that, a secret in a maze already full of twisty turns. They went right back in, bold as brass, wanting to have another good rummage.

Then things got a bit… peculiar, even for the barrowmaze. There was talk of a splashy sound and a strange room they wanted to investigate. And above one of the arches? Well, they found a learing face that looked strangely like a distorted face of Armatzi. Frozen in a twisted leer, it was. Not creepy at all, they said! Honestly, you’d think after all they’ve seen, a stony face wouldn’t raise an eyebrow. But they did wonder if its eyes moved, bless their inquisitive souls.

Clever thinkers, they are. They even tried tossing rubble through the arch to see what might happen. Nothing much, just a rock flying and flopping. Though it did make a bit of a racket, louder than they intended, maybe. You never quite know what’s going on in those adventurer heads.

Then came the sneeze! Not one of the party, mind you, but the face on the archway! And young Aratzi felt some sort of strange connection. A holy sneeze, they wondered? Goodness me.

Further in, while one of them, Arnd I believe, was poking around with a ten-foot pole, wouldn’t you know it, several small creatures came out of the rubble pile! Sounded like centipedes. Nasty things, centipedes. Gnorcia, she’s got a real dislike for them, apparently. They all had to umm, prepare for their… their fighting readiness. Hammers flying, swords drawn, and spells… well, I didn't hear much about spells at that point, mostly just the squishing of bugs. Poor little things, they were someone’s pets, apparently.

After all that excitement with the creepy face and the creepy crawlies, they found a hidden catch and a door that opened with a dreadful stench of old death and rot. Inside? An inner space lined with small rectangular burial alcoves. Al-coes, they called them. Naturally, they had to go poking about in there too. Found some silver pieces, they did. Every little bit helps, especially in these times.

Then they were talking about resting and eating dinner. Smart move, I say. Can’t fight monsters on an empty stomach. And Armatzi, bless him, was going to be… switched out when they went back to town. Something about giving everyone a turn. Odd way to run things, but who am I to judge?

They came back to Orlane, late in the evening it was. The town… well, it’s still got its scars. Not the cheerful place it used to be, but we’re getting by. The inn was still serving food, though not the usual feast. Plain stew, fancy rabbit, or a right proper spread for the ‘Saviors of Orlane’. Sounded like Gnorcia went for the big one! That girl…

Seems they had quite the rummage through their bag of holding while they were here. Found all sorts of things! Shovels, bedrolls, and a rather impressive collection of gems. Though too pricey to sell here in Orlane. And wouldn't you know it, some magic leather armor and a magic longbow were tucked away in there! But the armor? Human-sized. And then some magic studded leather, elven-sized! Poor little Gnorcia, still no proper armor.

Back to the barrowmaze they went, bright and early (well, 7:30-ish). They found a stone door and wouldn't you know it, out popped some sort of creature! A coffer corpse, they called it. Didn't last long against Arnd’s hammer, thankfully. Inside the… well, the coffin thingy, they found a golden crown and two jeweled bracers! Shiny treasures! Just the sort of thing to catch a thief’s eye, eh?

Then they were off exploring another part of that maze, a room full of statues dedicated to gods they didn’t recognize. Human gods, they thought, all eroded by time. Sad, really. And wouldn’t you know it, they found a pit trap! Good thing for that ten-foot pole, eh? They tried asking their gods for guidance at a broken altar, but it seems that part of the maze is a bit… spiritually quiet.

Finally, they stumbled upon a long hallway and an archway with some… wiggling things at the top. Creepy stuff! Young Calbach tried shooting at them, even throwing his magic sword! Didn't do a thing. Then they had Lhoss climb up for a closer look, and a hand came out of the stone and grabbed her ankle! Mercy me! She used some sort of magic missile, and it just vanished into the stone. Spooky!

Calbach, bless his newly… un-wall-licking heart, even tried jumping through the archway. Said he floated for a bit. Then the rope they had tied to him came back all sticky! Ugh. They tried throwing rocks through, with all sorts of odd results. In the end, it was a simple lob of a small stone that seemed to do the trick. Though poor Calbach got covered in some sort of sticky film when he tried again. They’re always getting into some sort of scrape, those adventurers.

Well, there you have it. Another peek into the strange and sometimes smelly adventures of our friends. Who knows what they’ll find next in that maze of barrels! Old Vilma will keep her ears open and her quill… well, her fingers on this glowy box, ready to tell you all about it. Until next time, keep your wits about you, and watch out for sneaky archways!

Session 183: The Barrowmaze is still strange

Ah, settle in, dearies, and let old Vilma spin you a yarn from across the mists of time. These young adventurers I’ve been… observing… they certainly lead eventful lives, don’t they.

It seems just the other day they were traipsing through some dusty old Barrowmaze, a place that sounds about as inviting as a damp cellar. They were on the sixteenth day of their journey in a month called Patchwall, by their reckoning. Imagine that, keeping such close track! Seems like only yesterday I was counting the petals on daisies.

One moment they were pondering their purpose beyond the obvious lure of treasure – chasing after some troublesome necromancers, no less – and the next, a mouth appears right on the wall, bold as brass, mocking them and then spitting out teeth!. Land sakes, you never know what the day will bring, do you?

And what do these brave souls do after such a fright? Why, they decide it’s high time for a spot of lunch!. A little bit of dried pork, perhaps, or some hard bread and cheese. It’s funny, the way life carries on, even when the walls have teeth.

Young Armatzi, bless his heart, a cleric of some kind, felt a strong calling after a bit of quiet prayer in a room dedicated to a saint. The divine spoke to him, urging them eastward to cleanse a source of evil. It's always good to listen to your inner voice, especially when it has a bit of heavenly authority behind it.

Their path wasn't always clear, mind you. They had a spot of bother with a pit full of… well, let's just say unpleasant creatures that didn't take kindly to being set alight with oil. And then there was a stubborn brick wall that took some good old-fashioned elbow grease to knock down. Patience and persistence, that's the ticket!

They stumbled upon a hidden chamber, the St. Cuthbert room, a place that felt more comfortable to those with good intentions. It's always nice to find a bit of solace in a weary journey.

But the dangers weren’t far behind. They were set upon by some skeleton guards with glowing eyes and a nasty ooze that could eat right through armor!. It’s in those moments, when facing the teeth of adversity (not the wall kind, this time), that true mettle is tested. They fought bravely, using their wits and whatever weapons they had to hand, even if sometimes their aim wasn't quite true.

Their efforts were rewarded, as is often the way. They found coins, a mysterious magic book bound in red velvet and goblin hide, sturdy armor, a battle axe, a shield with a silver tree, and even a little jade monkey. You never know what treasures lie hidden in the dusty corners of the world.

One of the most intriguing discoveries was a room covered in ancient paintings, frescos depicting old gods and a “tablet of chaos” entombed to the east. It seems young Armatzi’s divine nudge was spot on. Curiosity, as always, led them to peek into a nearby room filled with rotting insect bodies – a reminder that not every discovery is a pleasant one.

They even found a secret passage leading right out to the familiar stench of the Barrowmarsh. It’s funny how the most unexpected paths can lead you back to where you started, or at least somewhere familiar. After a long day of peril and discovery, they decided to call it a night and head back to Orlane, perhaps for a slightly less than joyous welcome, given the state of things.

These young ones, they remind me of my own adventures, long ago. The world is full of strange happenings and hidden wonders. You just never know what’s around the next corner, or behind the next brick wall. It’s important to keep your wits about you, listen to good counsel, and maybe, just maybe, pack a hearty lunch. And who knows, maybe one day they'll even figure out that curious spell of combining things. The world keeps turning, and the stories keep unfolding

Session 182: A return to Orlane...and the Barrowmaze

This report documents a series of notable events observed in and around the settlement of Orlane during the month of Patchwall. The observations are presented without subjective interpretation, focusing solely on the sequence of occurrences as they unfolded.

The session commenced with discussions among a group of individuals in Orlane, highlighted by the presence of the priestess, Misha Devi.  She is presiding over the sole temple dedicated to the goddess of agriculture, Merikka. A point of contention was noted between the followers of Merikka and those adhering to St. Cuthbert, a figure of significance within the increasingly militant nation of the Gran March.

Orlane has endured a siege, with widespread damage affecting various establishments, including commercial properties such as a shop and a jeweler, as well as the Golden Grain Inn. The Foaming Mug, situated on the eastern side of the town, remained intact. The demise of an individual named Rhame was mentioned in connection with the defense of Orlane. It was recounted that the group of individuals, who appear to be adventurers, had previously found refuge in the Slumbering Serpent inn, described as having a more welcoming atmosphere than the Golden Grain. 

Past actions of the group were recalled, including the defeat of a spirit named Explicitca Defilus, which seemingly alleviated a negative influence on the town’s populace, leading to an influx of new settlers. The current leadership situation in Orlane is marked by the loss of the mayor and most of the defense forces, with Allen Clayborn and two elves, Dorian and Llewellyn, attempting to restore order.

A discussion ensued regarding the evacuation of villagers. Two members of the group, Gnorcia and Lhoss, volunteered to retrieve them. The remaining individuals went to work assisting the town's recovery efforts, including clearing debris, patrolling, and agricultural aid. It was clarified that such assistance would not be financially compensated and that the adventurers would need to cover their own expenses. The Temple of Merikka was noted to provide healing items, specifically holy water at a reduced cost, and maintained a need for certain components like poison glands and troll blood for other remedies. 

A significant event involved Gnorcia's journey to the city of Hochoch, accompanied by Arnd, to seek a solution for a missing limb. In Hochoch, the priests of Zuoken offered a restoration spell at a cost of 15,000 gold pieces. An agreement was reached whereby Gnorcia would undergo a binding spell and adhere to a contract involving debt repayment and a commitment to a modest lifestyle. The regeneration spell was then successfully cast, restoring Gnorcia's limb. 

Upon their return to Orlane on the 14th day of Patchwall, a merchant train arrived, offering various supplies and magic items. Several members of the group engaged in transactions, acquiring items such as compasses, magical bedrolls, a muffling cloak, and healing provisions. Additionally, one member facilitated the exchange of silver currency for platinum and gold. 

Having contributed to the initial recovery efforts in Orlane for several days, the group prepared to depart for a location known as the Barrowmaze on the 16th day of Patchwall. Prior to their departure, they partook in a meal at the Foaming Mug. The journey to the Barrowmaze was uneventful, though a sense of unease and observation was noted upon entering the Dim Forest, which they had to transverse to get to the Barrowmarsh. 

Upon reaching the entrance of the Barrowmaze (amid the Barrowmarsh), one member, Lhoss, investigated a steaming mug containing an opaque liquid. Another member, Arnd, consumed the liquid, which subsequently resulted in the expulsion of numerous worms. Undeterred, the group proceeded into the subterranean structure. Discussions ensued regarding past encounters within the maze, including references to portals and a prior incident involving a mushroom that led to Gnorcia's limb loss. 

As the group ventured further, they encountered hostile entities identified as Huecavas, a form of undead. A combat engagement ensued, with one member, Armatzi, successfully turning the undead creatures. Other members, Dwerom and Gnorcia, then attacked and eliminated the fleeing Huecavas. Following the encounter, it was determined that the remains of the Huecavas offered no material gain. 

 

Session 182: Another Night, Another Tale (Yawn)

 

Alright, pull up a stool, grab a lukewarm ale, and let me tell you about the delightful evening I had. Just another night slinging drinks at the ol’ inn, and who should stumble in but our favourite band of slightly-less-than-merry adventurers. Fresh from… somewhere. Honestly, half the time I tune them out until they start waving coin at me.

Apparently, they'd been having a grand old squabble about their “equipment”. You know, the usual assortment of pointy things, slightly damp cloaks, and what someone eloquently described as the “putrid remains of a rat”. Surprisingly, no takers on that last one. You’d think someone would want a conversation starter like that.

The cloak situation was particularly riveting. Apparently, there was a plain old “cloak” and then a “hooded leather cloak” which prompted one of them to declare they were now “so cool”. Honestly, the bar for coolness gets lower every time these guys show up. 

Then came the pressing issue of a “throwing axe”. Apparently, you can have one, but using it is a whole different kettle of fish involving something called “proficiency” and “levelling up”. Sounds like a lot of effort for something you just… throw. One of them even had the audacity to ask the weight. The DRAMA! It’s five pounds, apparently. Page 84, if you’re keeping score.

Oh, and speaking of carrying things, one of them, a charming fellow, mentioned he had 19 scalps in his backpack. NINETEEN. And they were getting wet. Lovely image for a pre-dinner chat. I swear, sometimes I think they just say these things to see my reaction. I mostly just try to look busy wiping down the same spot on the counter.

There was also a whole kerfuffle about an “ivory box”. Turns out it was like a piggy bank for the group, filled with a delightful mix of platinum, silver, copper, and some shiny rocks they called “carnelian”. Fancy. They also debated the merits of keeping some old spell books. Apparently, they’re mostly useless unless you’re a “magic user,” which most of this lot aren’t. Something about unique handwriting, you see. Though there’s a loophole for “jesters,” maybe? The rules change more often than my socks (and that’s saying something).

Then came the treasure hunt part. Seemed like they were double-checking if they’d pilfered everything, including some “onyxes” and a “small shovel”. Thrilling stuff. Oh, and two “whetstones”. Because apparently one just isn’t enough for a band of heroes.

They even brought back the horses they’d borrowed (or possibly just acquired). Named them “Durgga Grimstride” and “Butter Hoof,” if you can believe it. Honestly, the names these adventurers come up with. They haggled over the stable fee for a good five minutes. Cheapskates.

Then came the best part: dinner. Most of them went for the “plain dinner” – barley stew, hard cheese, the usual. But one of them, a Farro-sounding fellow, went all out with a “seven course dinner”. Small pickled herring, fancy broth, a roasted… “capon”? Honestly, the descriptions went on and on. Meanwhile, the rest of them were probably eyeing his plate with envy while gnawing on their dark rye bread.

After stuffing their faces, they got all philosophical about the rise of some “temple of elemental evil”. Sounds ominous. Apparently, they’re being sent off to investigate. Good riddance, I say. More room at the bar.

Oh, and the loot! Sweet merciful Pelor, the loot. They sold a mountain of stuff – gems, armour, swords, you name it – and walked away with fifteen THOUSAND, SIX HUNDRED AND NINETY-SIX gold pieces. You’d think they’d be buying the whole tavern a round, but no. They mostly just talked about experience points and “levelling up”. Apparently, that’s more exciting than sharing the wealth.

One of them even bought a +1 dagger off another. Thrilling. They couldn’t even agree on a name for it. I suggested “Stabby,” but no one appreciated my input.

And then there was some nonsense about one of them being a mystic and having to donate most of their newfound wealth because of some self-denial rule. Honestly, you couldn’t make this stuff up.

So, yeah, just another night with the heroes of… wherever. They’ll be back, no doubt, with more tales of giant rats (dead or alive), questionable loot, and endless debates about the proper way to swing an axe. Until then, at least it’ll be quiet enough to finally dust those top shelves. 

Session 181: Looting Lareth's lair

Right then, gather 'round, ye landlubbers and pointy-ears! It's me, uh... hic ... Gorgi Stonebeard, at yer service! Or maybe I'm retired. Can't rightly recall after all that fine dwarven ale... and some human rotgut they found. Don't tell no one.

Anyways, thought I'd share a tale or two of some adventurin' days (the adventurers who gave me this ale). Found some right proper loot lately, they did! A whole room full, it were!

• Boxes o' food, enough to feed a small army, maybe even a hungry dwarf like meself.

• Two fine warhorses, though I ain't much of a rider myself. More of a ground-pounder, ye see. They even had "proven," whatever that means. Sounds fancy.

• Gold and treasure aplenty! Off them... uh... bad lads they tangled with. And their fancy leader, Lareth. The found some shiny gems on him and his mate Marcus. Good haul, good haul!

• They even found their lost stash! Two boxes crammed full o' armor, weapons, backpacks, the lot! Hastily stuffed, mind ye, like they were expectin' company. Which they got. 

• Then there were the fancier bits in Lareth's room. A fine-lookin' necklace o' fire opals in an alabaster box, no less!. Many silver goblets and plates and utensils too fancy for a proper dwarven meal, if you ask me. And enough liquor and wine to drown a goblin (though they mostly kept the hard stuff).

They even found a filactory! Sounds important, that does. And a ruby off o' Lareth. All went into the pile... mostly. Couldn't put the horses in the pile, now could they? Or the food and drink. And somethin' called "prov'er." Turns out it's just grass. Fancy word for it, eh?.

Things got a bit hairy after all that lootin'. Heard some rattlin' o' chains comin' from the south. Gave me the shivers, it did (just hearing about it). Then there were doors with spikes in 'em! Had to pull 'em out. Took some strength, that did.

And then... oh boy... there was this singin'. Like the most beautiful woman you ever did hear. Almost made young JT run off! Had to be dragged back, the poor lad. Started scratchin' at the doors like a wild badger. They even had to tie him to a chair!. Good thing someone had rope.

Tried to sober him up with some of that human liquor. Just made him belch and spew all over the table. Disgustin'! But then Opelle, bless her pointy ears (don't tell her I said that!), she did some magic and put him right to sleep. Snoring like a grumpy cave bear, he was.

Anyways, they got all the shiny bits sorted. Gems, jewelry, magical weapons and armor... Elmo's stuff too. Seems his chain mail, shield, and battle axe were all enchanted. They even found a suit o' plate mail that glowed with magic. Can't wait to see what that's all about.

Split the coins, they did. A right proper haul, enough for a good few rounds at the tavern! Zora, bless her heart, she took charge o' carryin' most o' the fancy stuff in makeshift saddlebags made o' bedsheets. Smart lass, that one.

They even found some tapestries in Lareth's room. Not the kind you'd hang in yer grandmama's hall, mind ye. More like... erotic and dark scenes, with spider-women and such. Gave me the creeps, they did. But maybe some collector in town will pay good coin for 'em.

Got all sorts o' gear from them fallen adventurers too. Backpacks, cloaks, weapons, even a goblin skull!. Might be useful, might not. But we ain't leavin' nothin' behind if it's got a bit o' value.

So that's the tale so far. A good fight, a lot o' loot, and a companion who went a bit loopy from a pretty song. Just another day in the adventurin' life, eh? Now, if you'll excuse me, this ale ain't gonna drink itself! Burp! Cheers!

Session 180: Sunsebb 20 or Lacy Snows - Where Tactical Genius Goes to Die

<Change voice to one of acerbic wit> 

Another week, another delve into the thrilling world of Hommlet on day 20 of Lacy Snows (or whatever whimsical name the pointy-eared folk have conjured up this time). This means, if my calculations are correct, our intrepid heroes have been fumbling around for the better part of two decades in elf years.

This session kicked off with the dramatic reappearance of one JT, who apparently materialized out of thin air only to immediately return to his favorite state: horizontal and unconscious. A true paragon of heroism. The party, meanwhile, was in peak condition, described as "haggard" with clerics devoid of spells and healing potions scarcer than intelligent decisions in this group.

The ensuing debate about their dwindling resources was a masterclass in collaborative strategizing. Would they share their precious St. Cuthbert and Druid potions? The tension was palpable. One player, clearly a budding capitalist, even floated the brilliant "business idea" of buying all the potions in the future and then generously marking them up for his injured comrades. Such altruism warms the heart, doesn't it?

The pressing issue then became what to do with the aforementioned lump of unconsciousness, JT. Should they babysit him with the equally incapacitated Mark and Melissa? Carry him along like a particularly inconvenient sack of potatoes? Or perhaps wait for the elusive Crassus and his rumored Druid potion? The level of agonizing deliberation over this simple problem could rival the decision-making process of a particularly indecisive sloth. A vote was even held! Democracy in action, folks. Eventually, the brilliant solution was to just drag JT along. Problem solved! (Until combat, naturally).

Progress through the "moat house" (not "barrowmaze," much to one player's chagrin) was, shall we say, leisurely. After extensive probing of the perfectly sturdy floor, they reached a door, which JT was apparently keen to knock on. Luckily, Zorla, displaying a rare moment of foresight, suggested checking for traps. The inspection revealed absolutely nothing dangerous, yet somehow failed to inspire confidence. This pretty much sums up their investigative skills.

The door was eventually opened, revealing... an ambush! Who could have possibly foreseen that? Our heroes, displaying their usual tactical prowess, promptly tried to slam the door shut. Crossbow bolts were exchanged (mostly missing, thankfully, as their armor class is apparently a closely guarded secret), and the stage was set for another glorious display of disorganized combat.

Then came the pièce de résistance: Contristo's impromptu surrender and recruitment by the villain, all in the name of resisting the irresistible. One can only admire such dedication to… something. While Contristo was being efficiently removed from the immediate threat (and presumably contemplating his life choices), the rest of the party engaged the remaining guards with a mixture of missed attacks, wild oil-throwing, and general panic.

The oil vials, however, proved surprisingly effective, turning the tide in a way that actual combat skills apparently could not. The villain, Lareth, despite his honeyed words and claims of power, seemed remarkably susceptible to being doused in flammable liquids.

Amidst the chaos, Zorla fell unconscious, only to be revived by a timely healing potion from Azra. Teamwork! A truly rare sight. The battle raged on, featuring such tactical gems as flanking maneuvers that failed spectacularly, and attempts to backstab armored foes with daggers (spoiler alert: it doesn't go well).

In the end, through a combination of lucky rolls, persistent oil attacks, and sheer stubbornness (or perhaps the villain's utter incompetence), Lareth was finally dispatched. The session concluded with the promise of loot and a move to the dreaded "barrowmaze" next time. One shudders to think what strategic brilliance awaits them there.

One can only hope that in the intervening week, these heroes will have a long, hard think about the fundamental principles of adventuring. Or, more likely, they'll just show up next session and continue to provide us with this weekly dose of delightfully inept entertainment. Until then, may your rolls be ever in your favor (unlike theirs).