Session 194: A mummy, a cat, and a scholar

Welcome, dear readers, to another installment from Vilma's cozy corner of Orlane! It's been quite the whirlwind, hasn't it? Day Seven of "Ready" and our dear adventurers have certainly stirred things up in the Barrel Marsh.

Mummy Mischief in the Marsh! They finally decided to leave that damp marsh, though not before a rather… active encounter with a mummy. I hear it was quite the dance – grinning, pointing, and even a disappearing act! Young Armatzi, bless his dwarven heart, found himself momentarily whisked away, only to reappear without his mace, while the mummy vanished altogether!. They had to perform a quick "is this really you?" quiz, with questions about who stinks (Nikki, apparently, though not proprietary knowledge!) and evil penguins. It seems even the gravest situations can't escape a bit of banter. And then, just when you thought it was safe, the mummy decided to make a dramatic re-entrance! Honestly, these out-of-towners find more trouble in a day than most of us see in a lifetime.

Back at the Foaming Mug: Gambling, Glimmers, and Grumpy Felines. They finally dragged themselves back to Orlane around 8:40 PM, looking quite the sight after slogging through that marsh. The Foaming Mug, as always, provided a warm, comforting embrace. Our dear Floren, the innkeeper, seemed a bit distracted, though. I wonder what's on his mind?

Dinner was ordered, and oh, the choices! The menu has gotten quite detailed now, offering everything from root vegetable pie to braised hair or goat. A nice touch from our DM, trying to make things more "interesting."

Then there was the little gambling ring in the corner. Nikki (or was it Los?), our observant ranger, couldn't resist a peek at the dice game, "craps," and quickly spotted a cheat!. She even joined in, bravely losing a few silver, though I suspect the 'lucky dice' had more to do with it than actual luck. George, the merchant, certainly had a smug look on his face. Some folk just can't resist a bit of mischief.

And speaking of mischief, Jack, Nikki's cat, made a dramatic appearance, sans one paw, looking mournfully at Nikki. Turns out, the poor feline can no longer speak without his magic ring, but Nikki, with a little help from her spells, got an earful from him about his unhealed paw and lack of fish! And wouldn't you know it, he hissed at poor Los when she suggested he was "just a cat". Later, the little rascal refused to sleep in his own bed (some people buy the best for their pets, only for them to prefer your bed!), opting instead for Nikki's, forcing her to sleep on the floor!. As if that wasn't enough, he then started snacking on Ferno's leaves, causing the poor fern to "psychically howl" and bleed!. Oh, the drama! It's enough to make a simple village woman raise an eyebrow.

A Chilly Morning and Unseen Evils This morning, Day Eight, we awoke to a fresh blanket of snow! A beautiful sight, though it certainly makes travel slower. The party, however, had bigger worries. A "supernatural chill" kept washing over them as they traveled through the farmlands. Armatzi, using his "Detect Evil" spell (which apparently doesn't detect natural evil, only the unnatural, which is a curious distinction!), sensed a "mild presence of evil" that kept drifting in and out. Nikki even tried her "Fairy Fire" spell, but the evil entity, or whatever it was, simply dispersed the blue specks of light. Eloin, our resident scholar, had a clever theory: if there's no physical object, the fairy fire has nothing to cling to. Quite insightful, that one! And then, when Armatzi stopped concentrating, a stronger wave of cold hit them, dealing actual damage!. Perhaps some things are best left undetected, eh?

Into the Dense Marsh: The Mystery of the Pre-Flannish Barrow. Despite the chills and the ominous signs, they pressed on towards the Barrel Marsh, specifically to a barrow Eloin has been keen to find. He's after some "pre-Flannish" lore, and got quite agitated when the others didn't immediately grasp the concept of "who was here before the Flan, who were here before the Aridians and the Soul!". Bless his scholarly heart, he just wants to find ancient history, not a detailed creature roster.

They found the barrow – a low mound with four spiral pillars and a faint, eroded binding glyph on limestone. Los, our magic user, noted that the binding was largely negated due to its age and disrupted integrity. Good thing too, as these binding symbols are usually there for a reason – to keep something in, or out! Just as she was explaining this, the ground gave way, revealing a sinkhole right where she was standing!. Good thing she's got quick reflexes, unlike some who fall into pit traps (no names mentioned, Armatzi!). It seems even ancient barrows have their geological surprises.

So, there they are, staring into the unknown, contemplating how to approach this ancient, unstable barrow. Will they dig? Will they find answers to Eloin's "pre-Flannish" mysteries? Or will they just stumble upon another grumpy mummy or a hungry cat? I, for one, can't wait to hear.

That's all for now, my dear readers! Stay warm, and keep an eye on your pets – you never know what trouble they might get into!

~ Vilma of Orlane (Always watching, always writing. And no, I don't have my own podcast, but this blog will do just fine, thank you very much!)

Session 193: Day 7 of Ready'reat - Mummies, Ghouls, and Goblin Puddings

 Vilma's Chronicles: A Day of Paralysis, Puddings, and Peculiar Grins

Oh, the sights I've witnessed today, friends! Game day indeed, Ready'reat day 7, and quite an eventful mid-afternoon it was. The air, thick with the scent of the marsh, carried the echoes of a recent skirmish. Our brave band, fresh from defeating a foul group of barrel harpies (some of whom, I hear, shed in a rather peculiar manner), found themselves in a sticky situation.

Four souls lay struck down by paralysis – Cairo, Los, Sirius, and even dear Elean. There they lay, looking about with pleading eyes, though alas, paralysis renders one unable to speak. The remaining trio – Arn the stout fighter, Nikki the druid-ranger, and Norsha the clever illusionist-thief – were left scratching their heads. A cleric was sorely needed, for only they possess the spell to remove such a malady, but alas, the cleric was conveniently nowhere to be found.

Discussions arose, as they often do when faced with the indeterminate. Should they wait, risking the approach of nightfall while vulnerable? Should they perhaps fashion stretchers from marsh reeds and hair (yes, human hair was suggested, a rather novel approach, wouldn't you say?)? Los, it was noted, is quite the carpenter, though her skills were of little use in her current state. They even entertained the wild notion of simply abandoning the area and pursuing other ventures.

Ever the resourceful ones, they tried more direct methods. Slapping was proposed. Massaging arms and legs to perhaps loosen the affliction. And then there was Nikki's rather mischievous idea for Cairo – she simply tied his shoes together! One might even call it 'taunt magic,' a hope that mind games might break the spell.

When brute force and footwear failed, magic was consulted. Nikki, a druid with access to spells through prayer, consulted her repertoire. Could Charm Person help, perhaps snapping them out of fear? It seemed not, as it controls thoughts, not bodies, and would only affect one person. Nonetheless, Nikki attempted it on Cairo, the strongest among the paralyzed. Alas, his mental strength overruled her druidic efforts.

But Norsha, the illusionist, had another idea: Hypnotic Pattern. A spell to mesmerize and perhaps shake them from their fear-based paralysis. She wove her illusion, a beautiful pattern of light and colour, visible to all. And lo! It worked, in a manner of speaking. Cairo, Los, Sirius, and Elean all failed their saving throws and fell under the spell, their bodies loosening, becoming relaxed and pliable. They weren't moving, mind you, merely staring in awe at the shimmering pattern. Norsha even tried to lure them with it, speaking words to call them back to reality. Finally, she decided to simply stop the spell. And just like that, they snapped out of it, blinking and asking what had happened. Cairo, of course, immediately discovered his tied shoes, shaking a fist at Nikki.

With the party (mostly) back on their feet, and about half an hour having passed since the initial paralysis, they found themselves once more in the burial chamber with its searched alcoves and two unopened doors. Should they press on, or retreat to town for rest? Time was pressing, the sun dipping closer to the horizon. They decided to search the doors for traps, just in case. Searching, however, is a noisy business, requiring rapping and thumping, and the sounds drew attention.

Six hungry ghouls came creeping down the stairway, drawn by the disturbance. Arn, ever watchful (he noted he was keeping a lookout!), wasn't surprised, but the attack was upon them nonetheless. Battle ensued. Arn threw his hammer. Los unleashed magic missiles. Nikki prepared her sword, Mr. Paws. Feno, now present, joined the fray. Norsha attempted another illusion, a great chasm on the stairs, but ghouls, being undead, are often immune to such mental tricks. Yet, the illusion did cause hesitation, and in a rather dramatic turn, one ghoul seemingly yanked another into the spectral pit.

The ghouls attacked with nasty claws and bites that could cause paralysis. Arn, despite resisting initially, later succumbed to the ghoul's touch. Nikki, being a half-elf, showed remarkable resilience, succeeding on her saving throws against paralysis multiple times. Los, demonstrating her cunning (and the utility of Gary!), used her spider climb ability to scale the wall and backstab a ghoul. Feno, a force to be reckoned with, made short work of the undead attackers. Finally, the last ghoul fell, slain by Los with her magic dagger, Gary.

With the immediate threat neutralized, the party turned their attention to Arn, who remained paralyzed from the ghoul's attack. They tried massaging him, waiting, even taking a snack break (a wise move after such excitement, perhaps?). Nikki, asked for her opinion on Arn, simply remarked that he seems like someone who tags along and drinks. Eventually, after quite some time, Arn gasped and recovered.

Refreshed by snacks and recovery, the group decided to open one of the unexplored doors. They chose the west door. Los had previously searched it for traps, finding it well-constructed with greased hinges. It opened into a large room filled with burial alcoves. Eager to search for treasures, most of the party set to work, tapping and searching loudly. Eloin, the scholar, seemed particularly interested in the alcoves. Nikki and Sirius stood guard.

Their noisy searching, however, drew more attention. From the staircase, they heard a guttural moaning. Nikki bravely peeked around the corner, hearing growling but seeing nothing in the gathering dusk. It seems Nikki has developed a rather peculiar relationship with her fern, Fernadette, who apparently speaks to her in a trucker's voice – a recent development tied to her druidical fanaticism, I'm told. After a brief look into the mist-shrouded marsh (talking to Fernadette all the while), Nikki ran back to the safety of the chamber.

Their search of the alcoves yielded some interesting items: an amphora (a lovely two-handled jar), an electrum goblet (sadly not magical, much to Norsha's disappointment), some scrolls, and a dagger. Nikki used her detect magic spell and found that the dagger radiated strong magic, while the others were quite mundane.

Things took another strange turn when Eloin became fixated on the magical dagger, clutching it tightly and grinning. Los, concerned about unknown magic, tried to persuade him to part with it, even resorting to trying to force it from his grasp. But Eloin, with surprising dexterity, evaded her attempts. Then, with a wide grin at Feno, he suddenly tossed the dagger into Feno's bag of holding. Immediately after, his strange fixation vanished, replaced by a blank look. Was this a trick of the knife? A newfound thief's ability? The dagger's influence seems, shall we say, indeterminate. Poor Eloin then seemed confused, asking where his barrerow was and wanting to return to town.

Despite the hour, they decided to check the second door, the east one Arn had previously searched. It opened into a room dominated by a sarcophagus standing upright in the center. Inside stood a mummy, its blackened skin and gleaming teeth visible even from a distance. As Arn bravely (or perhaps foolishly) ventured forward, tapping with his pole, something unexpected dropped from the ceiling.

It was a gray ooze, striking down at Arn. Arn, though surprised, entered combat. Sirius fired an arrow, which the ooze simply absorbed with a disgusting sound. Los, using her spider climb again, attacked from the side with Gary. Arn, with his powerful magic hammer, struck the creature. Magic weapons, thankfully, were unaffected by the ooze's corrosive touch. Arn defeated the slithering mass, and Los, ever practical, managed to collect a vial of the ooze.

With the ooze vanquished and the room swept by Arn, their attention returned to the mummy standing in the sarcophagus. It wore a silver ring and a chain with a blood stone gem. Norsha, the daring thief, couldn't resist. She deftly slipped the ring from its finger. The mummy simply stared and grinned. Then, boosted by Los, Norsha reached up and removed the chain and gem. Again, the mummy merely twisted its neck and grinned unsettlingly. Startled, Norsha backflipped away. The mummy? It just stood there, grinning. An echoing voice from the tomb seemed to mock their surprise, "You think it's odd, eh?".

And on that note of peculiar quiet, with a grinning mummy left in its sarcophagus and dusk descending outside, our adventurers decided it was time to return to town. What mysteries remain in those silent chambers? What was the meaning of the mummy's grin? And what precisely was on those scrolls Cairo found? The marsh keeps its secrets, for now.

Until our next adventure, dear readers, stay wise, be clever, and embrace the indeterminate!  

 - Vilma.

Session 192: Into the Barrel Marsh

Ah, my dears, pull up a stool and lend an ear. Old Vilma has tales to spin from this past week here in Orlane. It was Day Seven of our little 'ready rate' period, you see, and the adventurers were stirring early at the inn, the morning chill clinging to the air even indoors. Breakfast was the order of the day, and over steaming bowls and crusty bread, they spoke of their plans.

A grand old debate they had, too! The talk was of inviting two new faces to join their company – Elwin, the quiet scholar, and Cyrus, who walks with the stillness of the wild, perhaps a ranger. They saw them down in the common room with the other familiar faces from the night before – merchants, sell-swords, the stout dwarf and his lad, even one of the minstrels. Though, mind you, the hooded folk they’d noticed before, they were nowhere to be seen. Cyrus, the ranger, was already packed and looked ready to travel, her eyes watchful of the party. Elwin, the scholar, was lost in his journal over a half-eaten breakfast. A vote was called, and the party agreed; these two would join, at least for a time....

But before they could even step foot out the door, a different sort of discussion arose4 It seems one of our brave adventurers, young _______, has a fondness for walking in many boots at once, playing more than one character. Our wise storyteller, bless their patience, noted the confusion it can cause.... How can the party truly know what to expect? And then there are the practical matters – loans owed between characters, stretching out the time it takes for coin to change hands fairly.... Armatzi, one of the characters _______ plays, is quite central to the challenges the party faces right now, while others, like Callback and Cheeky, are not. After much talk and sorting out who owed what (it seems poor Cheeky had quite the debt to Nikki and Los, though thankfully Armatzi had the coin to cover it...), it was agreed. Focus is needed. Armatzi would be the primary face we’d see, at least for now.... It seems all the 'internal' loans were settled before they even left the inn.

Having settled their internal matters and paid for their breakfasts (five silver pieces, though some remembered it being three), they stepped out into the damp morning. The fog lay thick, clinging to everything, muting the world. As they walked westward and north, the sun was a pale disc in a silver sky. The earth was soft underfoot, still holding the memory of recent rains. They passed through farms and a dim forest before the air grew warmer, yet fouler, hinting at the nearby marsh.\

Before they left though, both Elwin and Cyrus confirmed their invitation. Cyrus accepted readily but Elwin, however, made it clear he wasn't a fighter. His skills lie in study and knowledge, not in dodging claws or blades. He promised to stay in the middle of the group, out of the way of danger, his purpose being to provide scholarly aid. A wise scholar, though perhaps not one you'd want guarding your back in a scrap! Cyrus, on the other hand, showed her nature quickly – quiet, watchful, and as Elwin later discovered, remarkably stealthy.

Their purpose for venturing out was to explore the northwest section of the marsh, following markings Elwin had on his map. They first came upon a burial mound they’d seen before, marked on their own map as already explored. But another nearby drew Elwin's eye with its "interesting markings". It was sealed with a great, thick stone, much like the tales of digging for the lost Ark. No easy task to move! Nora, ever cautious, checked for traps, but found none. With pry bars lacking, it was decided brute force was needed - sledgehammers and iron spikes, a noisy business, that. For twenty minutes they hammered, the sound ringing through the marsh, while others, like Norsha and Cairo, kept watch.

Finally, the stone gave way, revealing not steps, but a black hole dropping fifteen feet below. A rope was needed, and a party was chosen to descend first: Los, Arn, Armatzi, and Nora. Elwin, wisely perhaps, chose to wait until the chamber was secured. Los went down first, a skillful descent despite it being one-handed. Below was a small room, ten feet by ten, with a single sarcophagus. Los had her hooded lantern lit, pushing back the gloom.

The sarcophagus looked solid, no obvious traps or runes. But when they finally searched and opened it, they found the reason for its seal – a foul zombie lurked within! It sprang forth, attacking Armatzi. A brief, sharp fight ensued. Los, quick to act, managed a backstab. Armatzi and Arn landed blows, with Arn dealing the final, crushing strike that left the creature as naught but mouldered scraps. A dangerous welcome, indeed!

Their victory wasn't without reward. The zombie wore a gold necklace with a jade scarab, though Arn's blow unfortunately shattered the gem. More intriguing was a gleaming gold ring on its finger. Before touching it, they called down the scholar. Elwin finally descended, identifying the tomb as a standard burial chamber of the Flan, the old native folk of this land. He seemed less interested in the treasures than his rumbling stomach, climbing back up for his lunch while the party decided what to do with the ring. Armatzi carefully took the ring, a piece of group treasure. Having explored what they needed, they climbed back up to the surface.

Lunch was had, a brief respite. Then, guided again by Elwin’s map, they moved northwest through the marshy ground. They found another side tomb entrance, this one also sealed, though they spotted older humanoid tracks nearby. Again, Nora checked for traps at the entrance, finding the stone slab had been smashed down the stairs inside.

Another party descended: Feno, Arn, Norsha, and Los. Cairo, Armatzi, Sirius, and Elwin remained above. The tomb below was larger, a thirty-foot hexagonal chamber with a broken sarcophagus containing a disturbed skeleton, a statue, burial alcoves, and doors to the east and west. They examined the statue first, an ancient iron figure, before searching the alcoves. Feno stood guard while the others searched. They found a pouch (jangling with platinum!), a silver dagger, and a wooden sword.

Nora checked the doors, finding them plain stone with handles, free of traps. Deciding on the west door, Feno pushed it open easily, revealing yet another large room filled with alcoves. Four of them began the long hour-long search, finding an amphora and a goblet of electrum.

It was then, mid-search, that a truly horrid sound split the air from the marsh outside. Running out, Nora and Los beheld them – barrel harpies! Vulture-like hags, multiple of them, flying towards the entrance and surrounding it. Their shriek was not just loud, but magical, freezing many of the party in sheer, paralyzing fear. Feno, Los, Nora, even Sirius and Elwin felt its chilling grip. Only Armatzi, Nikki, and Arn remained free to act.

Nikki, ever the healer, called out, offering to use her magic to break the paralysis. Arn bravely stepped forward to provide cover. With a quick spell, Nikki gave Feno, Los, Nora, and Sirius a chance to fight the fear. (or was it Armatzi ? Eh, who cares, they both love sharing credit). Feno and Nora shook off the effect, though Los, Sirius, and poor Elwin remained frozen.

As three harpies descended the stairs to attack the few free adventurers, the fight was joined in the narrow confines. Arn threw his hammer, Nikki fired her bow, striking one. The harpies clawed and stabbed. In the next heartbeats, Nikki cast a blessing on herself (or maybe Armatzi? eh, my mind wanders), Feno charged into the fray with his hammer, and Nora, with daring speed, vaulted over her companions to strike from behind (or was that Los?). Feno’s mighty blows dropped one harpy (that might have been Arn), and Nikki’s scimitar felled another (isn't it Cairo that has the scimitar though?). Bother, maybe the barrow harpies are affecting poor Vilma! 

Seeing their kin fall, the remaining harpies faltered, fear entering their horrid cries. And then, as more harpies closed in from behind, Nora, with a swift casting of her illusionist magic, struck three of them senseless with a blast of color. (Maybe Cheeky cast that, as he was secretly with the group?) They tumbled from the air, unconscious. The remaining conscious harpies, seeing their comrades defeated and others fleeing, turned tail and flew off into the northern sky. Two remained, helpless on the ground, swiftly dealt with by Nora’s blade.

So ended the day's foray into the marsh. One shambling horror and six fell harpies were sent back to the darkness. A successful, though costly, day. The adventurers are back in Orlane now? Or are they still in the dank, cold marsh, with tales of platinum and peril? Though, word is, some of the party are still touched by the harpies' paralyzing fear, a chilling reminder of the dangers that lurk just beyond our fields.

More explorations await, my dears, and more tales to tell. Vilma will be here, listening, watching, and spinning the yarn for those who wish to hear. Until next time, stay safe, and mind the gloom!

Session 191: Decisions, travel, and whispers at the Inn

Ah, gather 'round, my dears, if you can spare an old woman a moment from your bustling lives. Come closer to the fire, the chill bites hard even here in Orlane, and the stories that dance in the flames seem colder still this autumn eve. It warms my old bones to see familiar faces returned from their journeys. Yes, you, the Saviors of Orlane, have graced us once more. The good folk here speak your name with hopeful sighs, remembering how you stood against the darkness that threatened to swallow us whole.

Orlane is finding its feet again after the troubles. Hammer strokes ring out during the day, and folks are trading goods, even timber from the Ulic passes, though some goods arrive in strange, unmarked wagons these days. The old inn, bless its sturdy timbers, feels alive again, though perhaps a bit crowded with faces I don't know. Travelers come and go, like threads being woven into a new tapestry here in our little town.

Just this very night, I found myself spinning tales by the fire, as is my way. But tonight felt... different. As I spoke, the words came easily, telling of your recent adventures, of resting in the woods near the road between here and Hokot. Yes, even of the rustling leaves and the chill air that bites at fingers and toes when the frost settles. It felt as though I could see the very scenes I described, your campfire glowing warm against the creeping cold, the quiet moments under a sky full of stars.

It seems the air in Orlane is thick with stories these days. Not just the ones I tell, but whispers carried on the wind. There's talk among the folks of strange wagons moving by night without markings. Drivers who don't look like locals, quiet as stones and quick to hide a sash with a red eye when they think they're unseen. One honest soul spoke of tracks just vanishing into the thicket, and a chain snapped clean like it was rusted through overnight, though it was freshly greased. He even saw a strange mark branded on a wagon, a spiral in a rough diamond, a mark he later found on a stone near the marsh. He worries something is hunting the roads, not for coin, but for bodies.

Then there are the visitors drawn here, like flies to jam, as good Master Rudat puts it. Scholars asking questions about old stones and burial sites east of the Dim Forest. They speak of ancient patterns and a disturbance under the earth that might be stirring the dead. And travelers like the woman, Cyrus, with eyes that have seen too much, who understands that when the ground remembers, the dying begin again. She speaks of needing to move quietly, of reading the signs in the dark, and of seeing things near old spirals that the undead circle but do not approach.

Even I feel... changed. It's as if the stories themselves speak to me, showing me glimpses of things I haven't seen with these old eyes. Perhaps it is just the strange times we live in, or perhaps the old magic near the marsh stirs not just the dead, but the very fabric of the world.

Orlane is rebuilding, yes, but the foundations feel less solid than before. New stories arrive daily with the travelers – some seeking treasure, some perhaps less noble pursuits, like grave robbers drawn to the Barrel Marsh. Master Rudat keeps a weary eye on them all, concerned for the peace of his inn and our town. He remembers the blood spilled here before.

Keep your eyes open, my dears. The stories told by the fire are becoming tangled with the strange happenings on the roads and the darkness that leaks from the marsh. May your path be clear and your hearts strong. The tales yet to be told depend on you.

Session 190: Stench, Scarabs, and Sacred Items

Well now, settle in, dear readers, and let old Vilma spin you a yarn from the heart of Orlane. It's been another eventful week, or so the whispers go after our latest batch of "heroes" stumbled back into the Welcoming Inn. They arrived looking like they'd wrestled a barrel-load of bad luck, which, knowing them and that dreadful maze, is probably not far from the truth!

They started off on the eighth of May, Day Two of Ready Reit. And bless their hearts, they actually found a rather large pile of gold right off the bat! Of course, nothing comes easy, does it? No sooner had they seen the shine than that stone menace, Zach Six the gargoyle, showed up to, well, half cheer them on and half make fun. Always the charmer, that one. Especially seemed to enjoy picking on poor Master Arn, our dwarf with the fancy clock-watch.

Their next adventure, or perhaps I should say misadventure, involved a sealed door. They poked and prodded, and young Los was quite certain there were no obvious traps. But sometimes, dearie, the trap isn't on the outside, it's waiting behind the door! They hammered it open, with Zach Six cackling the whole time. Never a good sign, that laughter.

And what did they find? Not more gold, no sir. They found yellow mold, the kind that likes to burst and make a terrible stink when you show up. Nasty stuff! Most of the party managed to get away from the worst of it, but poor Master Feno got a real dose. Heard he was quite unwell for a good five minutes, gagging and carrying on right outside the doorway. The gargoyles, naturally, found this hilarious. A bit of advice from old Vilma: never trust creatures who laugh at a man throwing up. Mark my words.

They debated closing the door – sensible, you'd think! Los bravely zipped up to do it, holding her breath. Had to make another saving throw just for that. She managed it, but even a quick whiff of that stench is enough to turn anyone's stomach, or so they say. The gas went away once the door was shut, and the gargoyles had another laugh. Honestly, their social skills are worse than a troll's table manners.

Then came the bright idea to throw a torch in. Young Master Armatzi volunteered, opening the door just a crack, tossing in a lit torch. Well, that certainly dealt with the mold! But it also caused a burst of flames and, worse, seemed to trigger some magical unpleasantness. Poor Armatzi took a bit of a burn and had to make a save against death magic! Sounds like getting rid of that mold came at a cost.

Inside the burnt room, they found a scorched skeleton clutching a metal scarab. And what did Master Armatzi do? He picked it up, of course. Big mistake, dearie! That scarab promptly got stuck to his hand. Wouldn't budge! It wasn't painful, mind you, just stuck, like super glue on your best gloves, only worse because it seemed to be stuck through his gauntlet to his skin. The gargoyles thought this was the funniest thing they'd ever seen. More laughter! Honestly, you'd think they'd crack.

Meanwhile, after all that excitement, Master Arn decided to break down another door. Zach Six was still watching, chuckling away. And behind that door? A ghastly spectre appeared, looking quite cross. It floated towards Arn, hit him with a freezing touch, and knocked him down two whole levels! Poor Master Arn looked like he'd aged decades in a blink. He was weak and decrepit, and lost fifteen of his hard-earned hit points. Quite the shock!

The party fought it, of course. Master Feno hit it hard, and Master Armatzi finished it off with his magic missiles. But the damage was done. Spectres, they said, drain levels. A high price to pay just for opening a door!

Inside the spectre's room, they found a stone slab. Nikki, sharp-eyed lass, found a hidden crack in the slab. Inside were three statues: two gold, one steel. Nikki used her magic and found the steel one was magical, but the gold ones weren't. Always trust the gold that isn't magic, I say!

They decided to take the gold ones, naturally, but they weigh 40 pounds each! Their Bag of Holding, bless its magical heart, couldn't handle all the treasure they'd accumulated. They had a bit of a fuddle sorting out the weight, even with some folks carrying things. That steel statue only weighed four pounds, but they were so worried about touching it (after the scarab incident, you see) that Master Feno had to use a shovel to gingerly scoop it into the bag. Took quite the skill, apparently!

And here's where things get truly interesting. That Zaxics the gargoyle had made some kind of pact with them. They have to go back to the maze in seven days to follow him. If they don't, and they die... well, he threatened their souls. Never make deals with stony creatures who laugh at your misfortunes, I say! Master Armatzi apparently wasn't part of the initial pact, but he did get involved in the looting afterward, which the gargoyle later pointed out as him accepting the deal. These adventurers, honestly! They travel back to Orlane, weighed down by gold and worry, with Zaxics' voice echoing threats behind them. Master Arn was looking particularly miserable, and no wonder after losing two levels!

They got back to Orlane, had some much-needed good food at the Inn – a Feast of Orlane for some, I hear. A little comfort in these trying times is worth a couple of gold pieces. The next morning, Master Armatzi used his magic to finally get that bothersome scarab off his hand. He threw it right into the lake, and wouldn't you know it, a ray of sunlight hit it, and they heard the voice of his god, St. Cathart, saying, "Well done". Perhaps tossing evil shiny things into water is a good idea after all.

Then, they were off to Hokko. Heard the price to get into Hokko has gone up something fierce, ten gold pieces each, due to all the refugees from the war. Only the wealthy can get in now. Our adventurers certainly qualified after their gold finds!

In Hokko, Arn and Armatzi went to the Temple of St. Cathart. The High Priest was expecting them! Knew about Armatzi, knew about Arn's dwarf god being allied with St. Cathart against giants, and even knew they were fighting evil in the maze. The priest told them their mission is to find and destroy a terrible relic of some dark god named Narule, buried deep in the maze. A high cost, he warned. Sounds just like that maze!

Arn needed healing for his lost levels, and that came with a steep price: 7,000 gold pieces! Bless their party, they pooled their money, loans from everyone, dipping into the party stash. They managed to scrape together the coin, and the priest restored Arn completely. Good on him! A little restoration after dealing with death's touch is worth a mountain of gold, I suppose.

The priest also gave them a juicy quest: destroy Narule's Tablet of Chaos. He mentioned relics of Narule would be valuable to the temple. He even said getting rid of the gargoyles would be a great service, since they apparently tricked the party. Seems Master Armatzi was right about them being evil from the start.

While Arn and Armatzi were doing important temple business, Feno, Los, and Nikki went to see that eccentric mage, Diana. Feno gave him the bits he needed – a displacer beast hide, a sapphire, and 1500 gold – to make a Bag of Holding. Diana promised it in two weeks. Nikki also snagged one of Diana's strange plants – the ones she'd been 'watering' with beer, I hear? It apparently snapped at her fingers. Odd things, those mage-plants.

Later, back together, the party took some of their treasures to the temple to see if they were valuable. They sold the steel funerary idol – the one they were afraid to touch – for 1,000 gold. Good riddance to dangerous shiny things, I say! They also sold the two gold funerary idols, which the priest recognized as very old, holy symbols of St. Cathart, for a grand total of 1,600 gold.

Then came the runic tablets. Nine of them. The priest said they were high risk, high reward. Could grant stat boosts, or... well, instant death was the worst outcome. A gamble, wasn't it? Some wanted to keep them, hoping for a big win, but others, sensible folk, thought 100 gold each was a better deal than risking their lives. They sold all nine for 900 gold. Wise choice, I think. There are easier ways to get ahead than tempting fate with death-magic scribbles.

Finally, they sold a small platinum figurine, too expensive for Haskell the merchant, to the temple for a handsome 2,200 gold. All in all, a good bit of coin earned from their trip! They divided it up and got a good haul of experience points too, especially from defeating that nasty spectre. Master Arn should be right as rain with his levels back, and some others can even level up now.

But here's the rub: they have to be back in the maze in just a few days for that gargoyle pact! Not much time to rest, shop, and train before facing whatever Zach Six has planned. Master Armatzi thinks he might fulfill his quest to the temple by defeating the gargoyle, since the priest said they were evil. Seems like the gargoyles' mockery might just be their undoing.

So, they'll likely be heading back to that dreadful maze soon. Let's hope they remember their past lessons: check for traps, don't trust yellow mold, don't pick up random cursed objects, and for goodness sake, don't make deals with laughing stone creatures who threaten your immortal soul!

Until next time, keep your doors barred and your wits sharp!

– Vilma.

Session 189: A sassy wall and some clever gargoyles

Ah, greetings, dear readers! Vilma of Orlane here, your humble chronicler and resident expert in all things delightfully absurd within the Barrel Maze. As you know, I simply adore peeking beyond the veil and seeing how our intrepid adventurers are faring. Some say I have a knack for some off the wall stuff, but I simply say... well, let's just say I see things others don't!

Day 2 of Ready has been quite the ride. We found our full group – Feno, Arand, Armatzi, Dwarum, Norsha, Nikki, Los, and Cairo (don't worry, I'll try not to butcher those names too much, though it is rather delightful when I do) – deep in the Barrel Maze. Their current quest? Pressing eastward!

And why eastward, you ask? Because Armatzi, the lawfully good cleric of St. Cuthbird, had a "good feeling" and was instructed by his deity. Feno, ever the loyal battle buddy, trusts him, though their alignments (Armatzi's Lawful Good vs. Feno and Nikki's Neutral Good, Los's True Neutral, and Norsha's Chaotic Neutral) suggest some underlying friction in principle, particularly with Norsha and perhaps Cairo.

They quickly ran into a familiar face... or rather, a familiar wall. The brick wall they've avoided before, knowing there's a roundabout way. This wall, my dears, is sentient. It mocked them, blew a raspberry, and even disappeared at one point. Apparently, interacting with it previously resulted in a chemical burn for poor Norsha, leading to a general aversion now. It seems a strange force has awakened in the maze, making even the walls feel alive. Wise move, avoiding the sassy masonry!

Our adventurers all have their own reasons for being here. Cairo wants money for Tanya and to help people. Los, the true neutral rogue, is motivated by gold, group safety, companionship, and a burning desire for vengeance against the necromancers who attacked Orlane, stemming from shame over abandoning her village. Norsha is mostly about the money and enjoying her friends. Dwaram, who was actually found trapped in a pit in the maze and rescued by Norsha, is now in it for the money to pay off a 300 gold piece debt. Armatzi follows his divine directive to vanquish evil. Feno is driven by vengeance against Naor, who slaughtered his family. Nikki, the neutral good druid, might be motivated by monsters poisoning the land. Arand, also rescued from the maze, wants to pay back his saviors and the maze itself.

Their explorations led them to a large chamber with pillars covered in stone gargoyles. They felt watched, heard faint breath, and even a burp! Then, one of the gargoyles, a rather haughty fellow named Zaxic with fangs and a forked tongue, flew down to speak.

Zaxic offered them wealth if they would defeat another gargoyle, Zigstrol. This immediately seemed like a simple case of one rival wanting another removed. The deal involved some rather suspicious requirements, including... unholy water. Armatzi, of course, was appalled. His deity would not approve! Zaxic, as a show of "good faith," offered access to nearby tombs. The catch? Exploring or taking anything from the tombs meant a binding contract to return in seven days (Day 9 of Ready Reach) to fulfill the bargain.

This led to a delightful party debate! Armatzi, true to his principles, declared he would take no part in the deal. The rest of the party, however? They jumped at the chance for loot, happily accepting the contract. A red hexagon symbol appeared and faded on the floor – confirming the pact. As Los wisely put it, why not accept and just deal with the gargoyle if he betrays them later? Seems perfectly logical to a true neutral, if you ask me.

The first tomb they opened (using a spike and sledgehammer, naturally) contained a shelf with urns and a basket. The basket held silver! A nice haul of 54 silver pieces for everyone, with two left for the party bag. The urns were empty, alas.

Opening a second tomb proved more exciting. Two nasty creatures in black robes attacked immediately. They were Wraiths, requiring magic to harm them. Combat erupted! Dwaram's magic crossbow bolt shattered. Norsha's attempted flank missed. But Los, oh Los! She spider-climbed the wall, got behind Wraith 2, and landed a magnificent triple-damage backstab, utterly obliterating it. Wraith 1 attacked Los but missed. Cairo's plus-one broadsword, 'Dynasty', struck true, and Arand's magical warhammer, 'Witherbrand', also found its mark. Dwaram, proving he's not just a melee sort, finished off Wraith 1 with two Magic Missiles.

Victory and 183 experience points each! Waiting for them was a large metal coffer. Of course, it was trapped! A magical blast hit Norsha and Cairo, but they only took 10 damage each thanks to successful saves. Inside the coffer? GOLD! An incredible 4,262 gold pieces. That's a whopping 532 gold pieces per person! This sparked another debate, as Armatzi refused his share, deeming it part of the gargoyle's deal that he had rejected. He felt taking the gold would be unlawful and a waste of St. Cuthbird's time. The others, having accepted the deal, happily took their share.

The gargoyles had the last laugh, their chuckles echoing as they promised to see the party next week, on Day 9 of Ready Reach.

So there you have it! A successful foray yielding silver, gold, experience, and the defeat of some nasty undead. But they've also made a pact with a possibly shady gargoyle. Will they return in seven days? Will Armatzi stick to his principles? Only time will tell!

Until our next adventure... or gaming session, whichever comes first!

Signed, Vilma of Orlane 

Session 188: Adventures in Hochoch

Ah, greetings, dear reader. Sit a spell, warm yourself by the fire, and let old Vilma share some musings. The winds of fate blow strangely indeed, and I've seen and heard things lately that make me ponder the very fabric of our existence, and perhaps... the nature of the telling itself.

The young folk, our brave adventurers, have been busy. They were off in Hokco for a time, though I confess the details of their time there are like whispers on the wind to me. What I do know is they were in the midst of a week of 'leveling up,' a peculiar phrase for training, don't you think?. Four of them, the wearer, Los, Cheeky, and Cairo, were deep in this 'leveling up' process. Cheeky, bless his tiny heart, was just one 'experience point' away from finishing his training, a curious measure of growth indeed. He even gave some of his 'experience' away to Feno once! Oh, the things these children talk about!

They returned recently, arriving back here in Orlane just as evening was falling on the first day of Ready Reit, which feels very much like late fall to me, perhaps like your November. The village is still recovering, you know, after the unpleasantness with the Naga. Our people are industrious, patching up buildings and laying new foundations. It warmed my old heart to see them arrive at the inn. And imagine, they brought gifts! Baby chicks, they did. Cairo brought ten himself. The innkeeper was so grateful, their meal was 'on the house'. Most of them indulged in the seven-course 'Rebirth of Orlane' feast, a rare treat. Though dear Norsha, ever practical, just asked for a plain dinner. Such sensible saving!

Before they came home, they visited the Sage, Diana, you see. They sought to sell some unique items they'd found in the Barrow Maze. They had quite the collection, including:

• The Barome Alchemical Grimmery

• The Barome Codex

• An ivory demon idol

• Spell books (at least three, maybe four, including a red velvet one and several from necromancers of Set)

• Three daggers with runes of Set

• A quarter staff topped with a skull and runes of Set

• A sorcerer staff and robe(s)

Ah, the negotiations! They tried to figure out how much these things were worth. Hilda, God bless her, wanted a thousand gold pieces for the books. Feno suggested 500. They settled on 750 gold pieces each for the Grimmery and the Codex. Diana sniffed out they had five spell books and offered varying prices, from 150 to 350 gold pieces, which they eventually agreed upon. The mundane robe only fetched a single gold piece, and the non-magical staff another gold. The daggers went for 11 gold pieces for all three.

But the truly valuable items... they didn't know the half of it! The staff, the one topped with a skull, turned out to be magical, a +1 staff. They sold it for a mere 300 gold pieces. Can you believe it? Diana later revealed it was worth 2,000 gold pieces!. A huge bargain for the Sage, though the adventurers learned a lesson: magic items are rare and valuable. The demon idol, which Nora nervously hugged to herself (or rather, held under her armored arm, wearing gloves, of course!), they let go for 500 gold pieces after initially asking 1,000. Diana said it was worth 850 gold pieces. Though, interestingly, they apparently drove a hard bargain on most things, even getting over market value for the Alchemical Grimmoire, which was valued at 700 but sold for 750.

They walked away with a tidy sum: 772 platinum and 3 gold pieces. Divided amongst seven (or was it eight, counting Dwarm who wasn't there but needed money for leveling up?), it was a good haul. Platinum pieces! That's a lot of money in these parts. Cheeky, poor lad, needed some of that money desperately. He owes money to the 'bag of holding,' Feno, Los, and others. He borrowed 50 platinum pieces from Los and Nikki, promising eggs from his chicken as interest. Eggs as interest! Only Cheeky. Despite his debts and needing loans, he did manage to level up to a third-level fighter, gaining a proficiency and improving his attack prowess. They joked about him becoming proficient in 'egg eater' or plastic straws. Oh, these 'proficiencies' and 'attack tables'... the language of the telling is quite strange at times.

Now, after their feast, they're off again, back to the Barrow Marsh. The walk through the Dim Forest always feels oppressive, and the marsh itself has a constant stench. They returned to the Barrow Marsh area, looking for new places to explore. They found a burial mound that had been excavated and emptied and another sealed with a stone door, which they'd been in before and found flooded.

They decided to enter the maze through the entrance by burial mound number 20, the one with the broken sarcophagi and dancing skeletons. You have to turn one of the skeletons upside down to open the door. They lit torches and a candle and headed down into the silent, oppressive atmosphere. Their goal? To head East, following the advice someone received about evil being in that direction. They even considered revisiting Armatzi's room, which is somehow sanctified to St. Cuthbert, but decided against it after letting Armatzi pray and the others eat.

As they moved East through the labyrinthine corridors, they came across something truly unsettling. The walls were painted black, a matte black that seemed to absorb light. When a dagger scraped on it was put to a torch, the torch burned black and lost its light. It was a peculiar paint, unevenly applied near the floor. They pressed on and found that the black paint transitioned into a blood-red color. This red wasn't matte; it glistened and flowed like liquid. It seemed to flow from a seam in the ceiling down the walls and into the floor, being absorbed into the ground.

To investigate, Nora cast a 'continual light' spell up at the ceiling. But the strange paint swallowed the light!. A globule of black dripped from the ceiling, wriggled on the floor, and turned into hundreds of scattering ants. It seems this paint is somehow magical, perhaps related to darkness or swallowing light.

But the worst part? Cairo, seeing the flowing red, was overcome with pain and fear. He couldn't stand, couldn't speak coherently, and couldn't move into the black-painted area. The red paint was somehow affecting him! His companions had to drag him towards a door at the end of the corridor, away from the flowing red. As soon as they reached the door, which the red flow did not reach, his pain vanished, though he was covered in sweat.

What is this strange flowing paint? Why does it absorb light and harm Cairo? The mysteries of the Barrow Maze deepen with every step. And the way these events unfold, the pauses, the discussions of rules and numbers and dice... it's as if their very journey is being... recorded. Curious, isn't it?

Until next time, when we see what happens next in this peculiar unfolding tale, be well.

Vilma.