Anuu Renummus (Janessa's character) has established herself as a
religious zealot, willing to believe anything the elven elders of her clan
tell her. The elven elders have been established as a hastily thrown
together character hook to send two characters to the far north (and
apparently they were necessary, since 20 years of goddess induced portent
holding dreams were not enough to spark any type of adventure from
Anuu).

After five failed fort saves (these mostly being buried in
character history), Falahara (Linda's character) has established herself
as one rather uncomfortable with boats. Boats have been established as wooden
constructions designed to transport people across bodies of water (or so
the elven elders say). Other than that, Falahara has established
Molistead's guinea pig as a source of food.

Molistead (Georges' character) has established himself as a
dolt. His eye color has yet to be deterministically established,
however, it is still hauntingly familiar to the eyes of the poor fellow
who keeps dying in Anuu's dreams. [Annu's dreams have now
established themselves as a purely hypothetical plot hook. I really
need to work them out sometime soon :) ]

When we last left these three intrepid adventures, they were just
setting out on a grueling trek [Molistead found it grueling due to the
lack of large civilized areas where he could attempt to ply his trade,
being a "skilled" performer. We won't mention why others found it
grueling :) ]. To shut him up, and because neither Anuu nor Falahara
really know the lay of the land, the three have chosen the western fork of
the great road, leading north from Cormyr. Molistead is probably pleased
as while this will add a few days of travel, it will bring him rather
close to a heavily populated area [the name of the city escapes me right
now :( but that is what I get for trying to improvise] .

Ok, so we have completed session II. This session saw the introduction of Xon, our parties rogue and general man of mystery (also known as wanted criminal and filthy murderer, but what the hey). I guess he deserves his own introduction, but I wanna see how much he will reveal to his new "friends" (seeing as how they've already "robbed him blind", ain't color spray fun) :)

The fun started when our intrepid band entered the garrison town of Tilverton. Two inns were recommended, The Troll's Head Inn and that other one cross town, ah, yeah the Prancing Pony. The party briefly stopped to eavesdrop on a conversation that the city guard was holding, and found that there was a murderer on the loose, whose description was vague at best.

Anyway, the Troll's Head, being a little more lax in its entertainment hiring policies was soon found to be a perfect place for Molistead to ply his trade. After mediocre attempts to impress the Inn's owner, he established his right to make noise that evening. Possibly even in exchange for a warm mug of ale.

While Molistead became better acquainted with the watered ale of the Troll's Head, Annu and Fala took off to the local temple of Mystra, where they got the low down on the town's gossip. Apparently, the high priest of Mystra, Cen'yar Gothspoddin, was laid low by a mysterious fellow. While the house had undergone some rummaging, nothing was stolen. This nasty do-no-gooder was seen standing above the body of Gothspoddin as he lay dying, after which he fled the scene of the crime. Rufus, an elderly and slightly portly gentleman, has taken over the position of high priest for the time being, and services were scheduled for tomorrow morning.

Returning to the Inn, Fala and Annu were graced by the music Molistead was performing. The beauty of his art was such that the entire inn was transfixed, brought to an almost dream-like state of existence. The otherworldly beauty of the music was lost, however, on three occupants. Annu heard the anxious warnings of a female, cut short abruptly as the song ended. Fala overhead a conversation between two male voices, cut short by a third. Xon, upstairs, overheard what he took to be people planning his capture. We really need to get Xon to introduce himself. Molistead continued playing, unaware the whole time of what has transpired.

Fala and Annu speak of the voices they heard, and during the conversation, Fala notices a man in a black cloak with a feathered hat reaching the top of the stairs and heading down the hallway. Becoming suspicious, and not trusting Molistead, Fala brings Annu up the stairs a short while later, hoping to discover the whereabouts of the man in black (whom for some unbeknownst reason, Fala suspects of being the filthy murder who is at large). Reaching the top of the stairs, she spies a man in a dark brown cloak bent over the lock of someone's door. Shouting, she draws his attention as he draws a dagger.

Inside the room, Xon clearly hears the goings on at his door. Readying his hand crossbow, he unlocks the shutters of his window. As he is already in fear of his life, he prepares to shoot the next person to enter the room and leap to safety via his window (and a 15 ft drop on the other side).

Fala prepares to follow the dark clad man, and asks what he is doing. Molistead is blissfully unaware and continues his music in the commons room below. The dark clad man takes his turn to burst through the door, to see a bolt neatly thunk into the frame near his head as his mark jumps out the window. The dark clad man follows his mark and jumps out the window, but lands poorly.

Fala, rushing after him, reaches the window in indecision. Below her, two men are regaining their feet, while a third (also clad in brown) leaps from the roof, landing with blade drawn. By this time, Molistead has picked up on a ruckus, and rushes out of the inn (the patrons are so drunk that it will be a while before they realize that he is missing) wondering where he should go.

Xon skillfully skewers the first assassin, dropping him as he offers the chance to surrender to the second. At this point in time, Xon notices the dark liquid coating both men's daggers. The second assassin offers Xon the chance to surrender the amulet and waits for his answer. Confused, Fala steps away from the window and prepares to follow Annu's lead. Annu fails in her attempt to get the black clad Xon to explain via magical compulsion, and so the combat continues.

Xon offers surrender again, as he backs away. The man in brown is having none of it, and sticks on his man, once again asking for the amulet. Fala, getting impatient, jumps out of the window, and in a stunning display, lands weapon drawn, and ready for action. The man in brown was commanded to surrender by Annu, and this time, her magic took hold. Dropping his weapon, he stood there motionless.

Molistead chose this time to try out his magics, sending a spray of dazzling colors dancing amongst enemies and friends alike. Both Xon and Fala were unaffected by the magics, but the poor man in brown, having already dropped his dagger, falls to the ground, stunned, blinded, and whatever other horrible things color spray does. Fala easily disarms Xon, the man in black, after which, the most preposterous interrogation session followed.

Information gained includes: Xon lies, and holds back anything he can; both Fala and Annu fail to give time between questions for them to be answered, horribly confusing their captives; molistead can make pretty lights dance around the blade of a rapier; Malak really wants the amulet, and the men in brown are more than deathly afraid of him; Xon had the amulet, but now Annu does; Xon might not have murdered the high priest, and the party would rather question him in the privacy afforded by the forest, than this particular alleyway.

And so, leaving their vanquished foes unconscious and bound in the back of a dark alley, our intrepid heroes set off, over a low spot in the wall while the guards are not looking, slinking off into the forest in a southerly direction.

As we resume the story of our valiant heroes, we see them bravely slinking off into the night. Passing over the south wall (the security is more lax there, and the party was following their prisoner, Xon), it was soon discovered that they were headed in the wrong direction (the majority wanting to go north, and Xon wanting his weapons back). So, the wee hours of this morning found our intrepid band circling Tilverton to the west, well out of earshot, and conversing with Xon.

Eventually, Xon's weapon was returned, though the amulet was not. A suitable camping site was found around five in the morning, and the party settled in for a long and enjoyable rest. The "night" was relatively untroubled, with only a few curious scavengers giving thought to the party?s camp.

Breakfast was at a prompt mid-day, after which the party continued north by the main trade road (this being primarily the only known way north through the Shadow Gap, a series of passes through the mountains separating Cormyr and the Dalelands). The party camped early this day, so that they could get a full day of travel in the morning. Choosing a site a good half an hour off the main road, they were still showing signs of paranoia. Setting watches, and still not trusting the men of the group, the party spent another uneventful evening (albeit Xon and Falahara were graced with the song of wolfs, and even saw one off in the distance).

Continuing northward the next day, the party hears the sound of advancing hoof beats. Xon, being the brave soul he is, dashes to the forest and hides behind the thinnest sapling he could find. After brief instruction by Molistead as to the virtues of choosing a wide tree (or loosing a little weight) Xon found a place to seclude himself and readied his crossbow. And not a moment too soon, for cresting the hill at that instant were four of the Purple Dragons (the military of the fine country, patrolling this our great trade route). As they hurled past on their valiant steeds, it appeared they were all too willing to let our intrepid heroes be on their way. Then, one stopped short, returning to the trio on the road.

Having noticed that a cleric of Mystra was traveling these roads openly, he felt it his duty to inform her that an assassin was loose in these parts. He described the man as tall and gaunt, perhaps in his mid thirties, wearing all black. Facial hair was indicated as well as a fancy hat. This description almost got him shot by a rather indignant Xon. Apparently this fiend (in the human sense) was responsible for the death of the high priest of Mystra as well as two merchants who were noted to be recent converts. The manner of execution was the same in all cases, three crossbow bolts to the chest. It was believed that this assassin, who seems to have a grudge against worshipers of Mystra, was still hiding out in Tilverton, though the possibility that he was abroad was mentioned. After giving this warning, the guard claimed that it would not be long before this felon was brought to justice, and that our good party should not be too in fear for their lives. The guard also let slip that checkpoints had been set up, just in case this villain should think of escaping to neighboring kingdoms.

After the Knights left, our party deemed it unwise to continue along the main roads. After a brief discussion on the art of disguising Xon as either a follower of Mystra or and "entertainer", Annu recalled a spell more powerful than those she could cast, used to force truth from all within its range. It was deemed all to likely that such a spell would be employed and negate any advantage the disguise might yield. So, as our party travels north, they keep their eyes out for the most convenient (or first) means of avoiding the checkpoint they know they are approaching.

Spotting a game trail, our heroes once again skirt the law, and take to the mountains. After an arduous trek up the mountains, following a beautiful set of cascades,

our heroes find themselves on a narrow pass, following the edge of the mountain with a frightening drop on one side and cliff face on the other. Off in the distance, the sound of running and falling water can be heard. As the day is dying, the group passes a small fissure in the cliff face. Sending Falahara to investigate, it is determined that after about thirty odd feet, the fissure opens up, revealing a moderate underground lake. The temperature inside is on the edge of freezing, and in fact, the lake appears to be frozen itself. Rejecting this as a possible sleeping place, Falahara continues on along the treacherous path.

About half an hour later, she discovers just how treacherous the path is, as it crumbles beneath her and she plummets thirty feet before catching herself by hooking her spiked vine about the trunk of a small sapling. As the sun sets, a brief discussion of how to rescue Falahara ensues (Falahara being so frightened that she forgets the pitons in her sack, and merely screams for "Less talk, more rescue!"). Within seconds, Xon abandons the idea of climbing down to his stricken party member, and handing a length of rope to Annu and Molistead (who looked at it in wonder), tossed the rope down to Falahara. Easily catching this, Falahara managed to hook her feet around the rope. The group gave a mighty tug, pulling Falahara a few feet closer to safety, and jarring her out of her state of panic. Quickly realizing that her friends above provided an anchor for the rope, she easily sprints up it, rejoining her fellows none the worse for ware. However, the sun has now set, and the group has not found a place to camp. They decide to return to the frozen underground lake and see if it could be made suitable.

After a thorough examination, it was determined that the lake was impassible, and that the group would probably survive a night sleeping by its edge. No watch was set, and their sleep was troubled only by small scurrying critters, such as spiders and centipedes, which made their home beneath the earth in this particular cave.

The party awakes to find themselves stiff, sore, and cold; though none the worse, really, for a night sleeping beside a partially frozen lake. As they set out once again along the mountain trail, they tie each other together (to avoid the pitfalls of yesterday and allow Xon and myself to make insufferable jokes).

At some point in time, Molistead gets interested and casts a detect magic on the amulet Annu is carrying. It radiates a faint aura of illusion, and Annu decides to don it (perhaps this occurred earlier, but what they hey, I
missed it at the time) with no obvious effect.

Our heroes successfully bypass the large hole in the path caused by Falahara's misstep the previous evening, and soon find themselves descending from the mountainous heights into a pleasant and secluded valley. By this time, the watercourse had rejoined the game trail they were following, which helps to promote a feeling of care-free ease (for those of the party used to being out of doors). Of course, this can't be a good thing, and is probably why Falahara was taken off guard and frozen.

Yes, in the middle of their march through the valley, Falahara stops abruptly, unable to move a muscle. Almost immediately thereafter, a high pitched, yappy voice demands to know who the party is, why they have disturbed "my valley", and why they should not be immediately sent to the Soulfisher. Xon's hand immediately goes to his weapon, but the sight of a Kobold astride a giant wolf (ok, so it was only five feet at the shoulder, maybe eight feet long) stayed his action. Brief negotiations took place, during which Molistead was identified as one of the "dragon-blooded" and an uneasy truce was established.

As conversation continued, Falahara was freed from the spell which held her, and the kobold Mika Flang noticed something unusual about one of the elves in the party. Uttering ancient words of a spell unrecognized by either Molistead or Annu, she caused both the amulet she wore and the one worn by Annu to become a transparent crystalline material with a glowing hexagonal bar covering most of the radius of the amulets. The bar of the amulet worn by Annu pointed from the center to the clasp at the top while that of Mika's amulet was at an odd angle. Curious that an elf would be wearing that particular amulet, and knowing of her own imminent death, she began to relate what little she knew about these items.

Apparently, in ages past, a great and evil power capable of destroying the world and even the gods themselves was bound away. Seven keys bared the lock that hides this hideous thing, and they were distributed amongst those unlikely to ever co-operate, each clan swearing to protect the amulet and any knowledge there-of. Six mortal clans, humans, dwarves, elves, descendents of dragons, evil orcs, and sons of giants, were entrusted with this duty. The seventh key, the gods themselves protect. The location of the lock is unknown, but even now demons, devils, and fiends search the earth attempting to reunite the keys. Of note is one named Malak, who has recently discovered this valley, and sent minions to wrest my key from me.

As the party was in no way associated with the horrid, evil croohok who killed Mika's entire clan (including Mika herself) and knowing that soon she would exact her revenge and return to the Soulfisher's embrace, Mika made a hard decision and entrusted the protection of the amulet given to the "descendents of dragons" to Molistead, as he was of dragon blood as well and her clan had come to an end. Reluctantly accepting his responsibility, the party begins to realize the importance of these artifacts.

Mika proceeded to detail the attack made the previous evening on her valley, and displayed the corpses of her vanquished foes. While the bodies looked as if they had been around for a week, two were easily recognizable as the assassins who had previously attacked Xon, starting his whole silly escapades through the wilds (of which he will be happy to tell you about if he survives them).

The corpses and the poison they carried were to be burned by Mika, and would have been had the party not interrupted the peace of her valley. As it was, she gladly gave her them the few untainted possessions of the rogues (including one rapier of exceptional quality). Xon saw fit to remove one of the vials of black liquid from the corpses before they were burned (which they had been told the concoction was black adders venom). Mika then gave veryone one berry, stating that this small, shriveled piece of fruit would provide the sustenance and nourishment necessary for their journey out of her valley and back into the ways of man.

Mika escorted our heroes, setting quite a brisk pace that left everyone but Falahara winded, out of her valley. It was a goodly ways past the setting of the sun before she bade them fair travels, bringing them to a camping spot perhaps a days travel from their destination of Travensburg. After that, she disappeared into the woods without a trace, in fact, the path that brought them to this spot seems to be gone, leaving not the slightest indication of how them party got to the camping spot, nor any indication that a secluded mountain valley was anywhere near.

The party awoke after yet another uneventful evening, and continued on their way. Molistead tested the magic of the amulet in his protection and found that it too radiated a faint aura of illusion. After debating for a short while, he decided to don the amulet, which now appeared to be the holy symbol of the Soulfisher, one aspect of Kelemvor, the god of the dead. Upon placing the amulet around his neck, he felt a slight shiver. There was, however, no visible effect, and Annu had been wearing "her" amulet for a number of days now with no obvious ill effect.

It is here that we leave our heroes, on the road to Travensburg, with perhaps a day, maybe a day and a half at most, before Molistead's homecoming.

Everyone should read this, and please make any comments on things your characters may have done that I left out.

After the Kobold left, you found on your persons a handfull of berries totaling almost 40. Again, you find that a single berry is enough to sustain you for an entire day (you will have thirty berries when you reach Travensburg).

Almost immediately upon setting out, you come across the disheveled ruins of a hunters' camp. It was a small camp, perhaps only four hunters. There is blood everywhere, and a few less tasty parts of the hunters strewn about. After a brief inspection, you find many animal tracks and an easily followable trail. The trail ends in the roots of a large tree where you find the corpse of one of the hunters. It appears to have been dragged here and left for a later meal.

After offering brief rights (either leaving the body for the forest to eat, or building a stone cairn; the ground is too hard for burial) you return and
search the camp. Amoung the tattered remains of the camp you find:

- 3 rosewood longbows (one has been shattered, each has intricate carvings of animals, and all are of equisite make)
- 26 arrows with black and white fletching (two black feathers and one white; those of you who are versed in arowmaking will note that the fletching is configured to impart spin, resulting in a more stable flight)
- 20 arrows with yellow fletching (these arrows are not as high quality as the black and white ones)
- 20 arrows with green fletching (again, not as well made as the black and white ones)
- 3 Hunting Daggers (Each has a different symbol carved on them. Two were on the ground, one on the body of the hunter you found. The symbols are a stag, a dragon, and a horse; the last being the one found on the body)
- 3 vials with a red heart drawn on the side -clear liquid
- 3 vials with a green heart drawn on the side -forest green liquid
- 2 vials with a slashed spider drawn on the side -red liquid
- 1 vial with a feather drawn on the side -blue liquid
- 1 vial with slashed feline eyes drawn on the side -clear liquid
- 1 vial with a sun drawn on the side -yellowish liquid
- a number of ripped and torn animal skins
- 3 ruined tents
- torn waterskins (punctured by teeth marks)

The sun is aproaching noon as you leave the camp. Not wishing to be too near, you travel late into the evening, but are unable to reach town by the time you wearily collapse. A nervous watch is kept, though nothing disturbs your camp. You do not even hear the sound of wolves. Thinking back to the tracks in the camp, this does not reasure Falahara as she is convinced the camp was attacked by large cats, similar to those she had seen hunting in forests further south as a child.

Camp is broken early, and you reach Travensburg a little before mid-day. Two buildings near the center of town have been burned. Molistead recognizes the burnt foundations as what used to be the town's storehouse and grainery. After pointing out the inn, Molistead promises to join the rest of the group after seeing his parents.

We begin the session with our intrepid heroes entering Molistead’s hometown of Travensburg. The burned out husks of the town’s granary and storehouse were particularly obvious to Molistead, and telling his friends that he would join them shortly at the Dragon’s Breath Inn, he went off to speak with his family. As the party had nothing better to do, they bypassed the fletcher, the temple of Pelor, the manor house, didn’t even think of checking out the tower under construction, (which would have been at least an hours hike to reach) and headed straight for the Inn.

Opening the door, Xon was greeted with the fierce grin of a large, black, reptilian head, hanging above the fireplace. Seeing his new guests “fascination”, the innkeeper broke in with “Ya, in my younger days, I took care of that black pest. Foulest thing I ever seen, spitting a poison that would melt yer strength right from yer bones. Lucky that we kilt it, I say. What can I get fer ye?”

After the party was seated at the bar, with drinks in hand, Annu looks up at one of the many maps displayed across the room and excitedly proclaims “Nar-fael!” A brief discussion ensues in which the barkeep warns against such an extended journey (especially because of the Zhents), Annu insists on it (especially because of the voices she has been hearing), Xon is horrified by the idea (especially because of the inclement weather, dampness, and lack of civilization), and Ravensong is amused by the idea (because she perceives a lack of hardiness amongst the group). Ravensong, who’s Ravensong!

“Your too soft to reach Nar-fael!” says Ravensong.

Xon, immediately rising to the woman’s . . . challenge, suggest that she “test his mettle”, so to speak. An arm wrestling match ensues, in which Xon does a great job hiding the physical pain that winning causes him. Much impressed (“you have a strong arm, you must use it a lot”), the dark haired woman returns to her contemplations and mug of ale.

After many heart wrenching, cheek pinching, hair tousling reunions, Molistead returns with the following:

“The town’s in trouble. The sa-ge guy thing, I don’t trust him, moved in after I left and these mushrooms ate the store. Anyway, things are pretty bad, and you shouldn’t go to the temple, because you’ll die like the rest of the people there . . . something about plaque, I think.”

Annu, having come to know Molistead, pipes in with “A plague. Perhaps I could be of service”, and falls through a conveniently contrived plot-hole. :) Opening up a space for “Mr. Travens, Sir” (an imposing older gentleman dressed in black banded mail) to enter.

“Ah, Aaron, back from that wizards college I see. They didn’t happen to teach you anything about scrying or divinations that could help us find out what’s happened to a couple of wagons did they?” he asks.

Molistead, being who he is, replies that “Why yes they did. No, wait, they didn’t. But I could, ya know, if you got me a scrying glass or a magic crystal ball or something like that.” Xon asks, “Aren’t they really expensive?”

After a bit of confusing dialogue, Mr. Travens turns to Xon and Falahara. “Perhaps I should be speaking with you. As you’ve heard the town’s in trouble. We had to burn the town’s stores, else that fungus would have decimated the whole place. It was lucky our new sage was in town and that he could tell us how to safely destroy the pestilence. I just wish the price had not been so high, we don’t have much food left. We sent immediately to the next town over for supplies. Both food, and some herbs that the Father needs to treat those who have recently fallen ill with the burning sickness. The wagons should have been here yesterday. Four of the town guard went with the merchants to make the purchase, and I sent two more of my boys out to meet the wagons this morning. They haven’t reported back, and I’m beginning to worry. Maybe you could go out and see what’s going on. Probably they’ve just lost track of time, or one of the wagons broke a wheel or something. But with only two of the town guard remaining, I am loathe to leave town myself. Will you . . .”

At this point, Ravensong’s presence is noticed as she interrupts, “I hear that you are the head of the town guard. I’ve been tracking a war band of orcs for many months now. I lost their trail near here. I came here to warn you of their presence, and from your story, I think it likely that they may already be causing this town some trouble. I have already sworn to hunt them to the last orc. To the extent that it parallels my own duty, I will gladly find out what I may about your missing wagons.”

After a very brief discussion of reward (Xon waving his usually modest fee for such services) our band of heroes agree to aid the town with Ravensong’s help. Stopping off first at the fletcher for some information (Do you recognize these bows, these arrows, etc. yeah, the arrows look like Tarrant’s work, and the bows I sold to a halfling trader nigh on twenty years ago . . . three way deal . . . I got some nice darkwood for it . . . and Travens footed the bill . . . ) the group takes to the northern road.

Nearly an hour worth of trudging through the freshly fallen snow pass as the party wishes for real sunlight and not this hazy, diffuse stuff that is filtering through the clouds today. As they crest yet another hill, the sight of a figure hitching horses to a wagon greets their weary eyes, and a hiss of “orcs” greets their weary ears.

Ravensong hastily launches an arrow, missing the orcs standing guard on the side of the road. Molistead fires a crossbow with little success as well. Two of the orcs are faster on their feet than the others and, with wicked grins to each other, move to close the distance between the two groups.

Ravensong charges the nearest orc, dropping her bow and drawing her axes as she runs, but the orc’s armour deflects her wooden blade. Xon places a crossbow bolt into the second orc, wounding it slightly, which turns its grin into an expression much more ugly. Seeing an opportunity to finish off one of the enemy, Falahara steps up behind Ravensong, whipping her spiked vine around to fell the first orc.

The man hitching horses to the wagon stops, muttering and waving his arms about before drawing a crossbow. Two more orcs heft their great axes, one charging Ravensong with a wild blow that didn’t even come close to marring her lovely features. Ravensong responds with both her axes, ending the orc’s life quickly and efficiently. Falahara sidesteps the falling orc and downs the third while Xon offers terms of surrender to the remaining orc and human.

The orc, looking uncertain, turns to the unidentified man, shouting in its foul tongue. The man loads his crossbow, muttering again, and responds in the same language. Ravensong charges the last remaining orc, laying it low, while Falahara moves beside the human and unsuccessfully attempts to disarm him. He responds by shifting the aim on his crossbow, and most likely would have fired, had not Falahara seen fit to leave him bloody and dying on the ground beside her with one wicked flick of her vine.

Feeling that there might be something gained from interrogation, she stops his bleeding and declares him to be in a stable state as she ties him up, while Ravensong slits the throats of the already cooling orc corpses, ensuring that they stay dead. Molistead identifies the wagon as one of the three they were after and quickly spots the corpses of two horses and a number of men.

The group fails to convince Ravensong of the importance of this wagon and of sticking together, and she rashly heads off along the trail the orcs took getting here, saying that she will mark the path for them. After briefly tending to the bodies of the fallen townsmen, the group leads the wagon back to town (taking with them one bound prisoner and six of the towns dead).

In town, our group relates the grim fate of the city guard and the probable fate of the towns supplies. In an uncharacteristic burst of generosity, Travens lends three of his horses to our group that they may pursue these orcs and avenge the town as well as recover the badly needed medicinal herbs.

Flying like the wind, they quickly return to the scene of the ambush, and find that Ravensong has clearly marked her trail. In fact, it is clear enough for them to make good time. That is, until the markings end abruptly at a clearing near a cave opening.

There are many tracks leading in and out of the cave, and it is clear that at least two wagons have been brought through here recently (the groves made by the wheels are clear, even through the deepening snow and enclosing gloom of evening). A torch is lit as the group cautiously enters the cave.

“plink, plink, ckkrckk, plink, plink” A volley of poorly aimed crossbow fire finds little purchase in the walls of the cave. Falahara pauses to thank whatever new sixth sense it was that let her dodge the bolts as Xon charges past to brandish both the torch and his rapier at one of the orcs. Molistead exposes another orc’s hiding place with what many may consider his first appropriate use of the dancing lights spell (circling a rapier, indeed!) and Falahara charges in to finish it off. The orc facing Xon begins to retreat but is not fast enough to escape Xon’s quick wrist and strong arm.

The cave narrows, becoming much more like a true stone dwelling, and the party becomes more cautious. Around a corner, the now flagstone floor leads about twenty feet to a wooden door. Quietly approaching, Xon hears the sound of flesh beating upon flesh through clearly audible orcish laughter. He indicated that the rest should follow him into the lightless room.

Immediately following Xon’s opening of the door, Molistead uses his dancing lights to illuminate the room behind two surprised orcs. Amongst a large number of crates and barrels, the source of the sounds becomes clear as the sight of four more orcs beating a near dead Ravensong is revealed. In a fit of rage Falahara charges the orcs and the first one she comes to is nearly ripped in half with the force of her blow.

With quick thinking, Xon moves to secure the only other exit in the room, while the orcs turn towards the party, their eyes gleaming with hatred. Molistead approaches the table and looses one of his more potent spells, a spray of dancing colors that engulfs three of the orcs and incapacitates one. Falahara, still seething, sees fit to remove the life (along with the front of his chest and most of his face) from the next closest standing opponent. As if in a dance, Xon kicks the door shut, while skillfully skewering an orc through a week point in its armour, felling the group’s fourth in less than ten seconds. (note fuming DM)

The first of the two remaining orcs grabs a great axe and charges Falahara only to be felled by her chain as its legs are ripped from under it. There is a sick thud as the orc hits the ground and it is doubtful that he will ever rise again. The last remaining orc seems desperate to leave the room as it trades blows with Xon, who retreats from the door with a nasty cut across his chest and arm. Seeing the door unguarded, the orc opens it, shouting, presumably for help, while dodging Falahara’s wild swings. Unable to flee with her so close, the orc steps up to Falahara and delivers a mighty blow that would have laid low any other of her companions. Feeling threatened, she backs off and swings, only to miss again. But Xon sneaks up, placing himself at great risk, and attacks while the orc is occupied with Falahara.

The last orc falls, and Xon quickly closes the door again, looking for something to bar it with. Finding little that would be of use in holding off the strong-armed orcs, he rushes to Ravensong’s side. Turning to the injured companions he dolls out handfuls of berries to each of them, taking time to feed Ravensong before eating his own. The goodberries return Ravensong to consciousness, but it is not until downing a potion of cure light wounds that she regains her feet. As the blissful healing draught warms her blood, she laughs and says, “With the ones I killed, and the bodies I see here, there can be no more than twenty left. Lets go.”

Xon places his ear to the door. Listening intently, he still hears nothing. Keeping an ear out, he begins to detail his plan. “We can make a barrier of fire. Force them to run through it while we hit them with arrows. We’ll each take one of these flasks . . .” and then he hears it. It’s faint, and at first he’s not sure. But, off in the distance, too quiet for any other to make out, is the sound of chains rattling…

And so, our heroes fled the law; not waiting for midwinter festival, not finding any trace of where Annu went (her gear, the amulet, and a note in Elvin where all they could find), and slightly disappointing the town of Travensburg. While they will always be welcome there, and many thanks were showered upon them (even Oahron was praised, home town boy makes good), the group felt that the pressing business of removing Xon?s curse and avenging both Ravensong?s family and the good townspeople of Travensburg were more important than a festival and a ceremony in their honor.

With over a day?s worth of newly fallen snow, the companions (and the DM) were openly amazed at Ravensong?s ability to track the orcs. After more than five days of trudging through the woods in a generally northward direction, the tracks of the orcs become visible to the rest of the party. Stoping near what looked to be a cart track, the party debated heading towards the smoke fires seen to the east, or following the orc band to the west. This was a short debate; and Ravensong quickly led them to a clearing with yet another cave. Debris covered the ground, and after a brief inspection, Xon identified the place as a silver mine (the timbers supporting the entrance looked stable enough, if recently abused by armed conflict).

Entering cautiously, the group approached a crossroads in the cave system where two carts were in evidence. The lower part of a human stuck out from one of the carts, and the whole setup gave Xon a bad feeling. Closer (and rather careful) examination of the scene showed there to be somewhat of a trap. A small, fist sized rock was suspended in such a fashion that any movement of the wagon would cause it to drop? The group is still wondering about that one.

Taking the left hand passage, Ravensong and Xon make out orc voices. Approaching as quietly as possible, the group determines that a handful of orcs are just beyond a stout wooden door and it sounds like they are having quite the feast. With the crashing of a table, the party decides to take them by surprise.

Bursting through the door, the party themselves are surprised by combat ready orcs(who would have suspected such cunningness?), one of which is a hulking beast in a bearskin cloak. Being the archetypical evil lord, Tagnath, the bearskin cloaked orc, orders his minions to destroy the human intruders while retreating through a back exit. Wasting little time and many charges of a wand, the group manages to defeat four of the six minions, causing the other two to flee as well.

Ravensong, having recognized Tagnath as the son of Jakk (the orc leader responsible for the death of her family), charges after him, only to encounter a white powdery haze. She charges through the cloud, with the others slowly following (they didn?t like the sound of her coughing answers and her inability to discern the location of the retreating orcs). Felling one of the remaining minions, she charges in to confront Tagnath, only to be accosted by his pet dire weasel. Striking at her own back as the dire weasel latches on and begins to drink her blood, she hits and nearly dislodges it but begins to feel faint anyway.

Falahara comes to the rescue, swiping the large beast from Ravensong?s back, eliciting a scream of rage from Tagnath (?You killed Fluffy!). But he is dealt with in short order as well, at which point Ravensong and Falahara collapse from their wounds and Xon launches himself onto the body, gorging on the blood of his enemies last heart beats in a fit quite unbecoming his usual nature. Falahara lets out a deranged chortle at Xon?s frenzy, still feeling the blood lust of her rage, but soon feints from her wounds and the efforts of combat. After coming to himself, Xon vomits and quickly flees the chamber, Ravensong following to try and comfort him. Oarhon rouses Falahara and they conduct an impressive search of the room, stepping on rats and removing barrel lids with her spiked vine, lest they be trapped and injure her further.

A little later, the group decides that they are fine enough to keep looking for Jakk, and soon come to a huge, vaulted cave with lichen and flecks of silver lining the walls. The phosphorescent lichen provide an eerie illumination, and the stalactites and stalagmites produce enough troubling shadows that Xon is sent to investigate. He is quickly spotted, and a deal is offered.

In a small alcove overlooking the room, three orcs suggest that these human adventurers should remove Jakk from this plane of existence. In exchange for very little information, the orcs expect to be let to leave without trouble. Of course, Xon decides to stall them so that the rest of the party can get into a more damaging position. With brilliant flare, he pronounces that he alone killed Tagnath and that he is a mage of great power. To allay their fears, he pronounces, ?If you?re not worried, why should I be?? which completely confuses them. Little did he know that Sargath had been scrying on his brother when the party decimated Tagnath and his cronies.

Trying to set up a trap of his own, Sargath sends three of his gaurds down to discover the location of the remaining adventurers, and combat quickly ensues. Ravensong discovers that her bow is a useful weapon and for the first time ever, she is not upon death?s door at the end of the struggle. Falahara makes great use of climbing and tumbling ability, charging up the rope to slash at the sorcerous orc, Sargath, and just stepping off the cliff to avoid retaliatory strikes in a most impressive fashion. Only one orc escaped, and he fled the mines with a red eyed Xon in hot persuit (up until the frenzied rogue encountered the pit trap the party had skirted earlier, that just happened to slip his mind in his mad desire to slay any brazen enough to oppose him).

The party explored the alcove, and determined that it was easily fortifiable. Being in pretty bad shape, and nearly out of spells, the group meticulously searched the bodies of their vanquished foes before holing up and resting for what they considered evening (difficult to tell inside a winding set of caverns with constant illumination provided by the moss growing on the walls, creating a constant illusion of dusk).

Later, fully rested and healed, the party sets out towards where Sargath intimated Jakk could be found. Passing through a room emitting waves of intense heat, the party encounteres the remains of the human mining crews as well as a couple orc corpses. Unfortunately for our intrepid heroes, many of the corpses had been animated, and the bloated, lifeless bodies shambled towards the living with the incessant command of ?KILL? echoing though their bound souls. Being without a cleric (Annu, where did you wander off too???), the zombies prove to be disturbing, but not beyond the capabilities of the group.

After passing through the breeding grounds of Jakk?s foul magick, the group reaches what appears to be the end of the cave system. A small underground spring flows from a giant stalagtite in the center of an expansive room. The water pools at the base, and flows out into an underground river. The walls are covered in orcish writings, and Xon wonders ?Can I see Jakk?, ?Why can?t I see Jakk?!?

Hearing the mumblings of magic, Oahron points to the top of the stalagtite just as Xon reaches the edge and the room goes pitch black. Besides being quick to notice the magick user, Oarhon also has enough wits to remember a potion of jump in his possession. Deciding that he certainly didn?t want to face the orc in the center of the darkness, he chooses to pour the potion down the throat of the elvin barbarian standing next to him. After downing the potion, Falahara charges blindly into the darkness, leaping at the place she believes Jakk to be. Besides landing at the pinnacle of the giant stalagtite, she actually manages to wrestle Jakk off his feet.

Xon, fearing for his life, actually climbs the stalagtite towards the muffled scuffling at the top, and lets loose a poisoned bolt into the tangled mess there (praying that he hits what he can?t see, and that it is Jakk and not Falahara who suffers from the poison).

Grumsh must have been frowning on Jakk, and the entire elven, dwarven, and human pantheons must have had a grudge against him as well, for the bolt hit home, and delivered the paralytic poison. Going rigid in Falahara?s arms, Jakk was subjected to four attempts to cut his throat before he finally slid into death (The DM wonders: can you intentionally fail the fort save to remain living after a successful coup de gras? And how can you remain living after four successful throat slittings anyway, two performed by a skilled rogue?). The party did what they could to insure his remaining in a state of not life and distinctly not undeath, and this is where we leave our group.

Our ever-growing group continued forward, now in the company of a rather strange monk. The monk surrendered the four charcoal drawings, each bearing an uncanny likeness to one of the four original members of the group. About midday of the seventh day of travel from the dwarven city, a freak blizzard struck (one of the nasty and unpredictable hazards of winter travel). The group quickly found shelter in a cave that was little more than a hole in the ground. Within a couple of hours, the snowdrifts outside had blocked the group in, and so they took this time to get to know the monk and identify various items that the party carried.

The mysterious amulets that the party believed to be among the seven that the kobold had told them about only turned up as masking their properties. They also found, among other things, that the two snowy cloaks would provide more than the usual protection from the cold. The monk related a blunt story of a dead elf with a seed insignia to the slightly bewildered group, who wondered why the he didn?t bring it to them. He was shortly accepted as one of the rag tag group of adventures.

On the third evening after the blizzard had started, Xon found that he could easily tunnel out near the roof of the cave mouth and looked out upon a beautiful star lit evening. The clouds blocking the moon parted for just an instant, allowing a brief glimpse of a huge bat like creature blocking the moon. A moment later, the leathery-winged avian had dipped back down into the cloud cover, but not before the moonlight glinted off of silvery-white wings.

As the party moved northward, food became high demand as everyone dug at every snow mound to find even the thinnest of rations to stave off hunger. Progress towards the path of the dead slowed to a veritable crawl. By the time they reached the Valley of Choices, fifteen days had passed since leaving the dwarven city.

The aptly named Valley of Choices caused a significant discussion among the party as to which road to take when they reach the crossroads. Bellum clearly wanted to go and face the dragon right away (having been with a group of adventurers who had previously defeated one). Xon, for obvious reasons of his own, wanted to make best time to the temple along the path of the dead.

In the middle of this discussion, both Auhron and Ravensong stopped dead in their tracks, hearing a garbled and deep, "Aw, I don't hear anything! The rod will warn us when they get here. . . Well, it worked with the dwarves, didn't it?" and a second, more sibilant voice responding "Yess, but they escaped Malak in Tilverton and twice killed his assassins." Further snippets of conversation were overheard before Xon, Bellum, and Ravensong began to advance quietly. "That white wyrm and her minions are out looking for them as well." " She bears us no good will, and the gods alone know who she works for." "They'll be coming this way. Malak say's their headed to Nar something or other in the north, and even a rock knows they wouldn't travel by way of the Zentirum's land." "Malak with give uss a world of reward for the key." "Pass me some more dwarf." "We're out. All we have left isss cold mutton."

Trying to get a better look at the source of the voices, Xon cautiously approached beyond the front of the group, but accidentally spooked a rabbit. As it ran ahead of him, a loud gong sounded, and a ten foot, black skinned, red eyed monstrosity charged out from around a bend in the valley and crushed the rabbit with a small tree, stating "Aw, it won't even make a mouthfull!". The sight of this fearsome creature, looking like an evil cross between ogre and bat, caused a number of our heroes to fire weapons wildly. Bellum managed to hit the creature before it bellowed out a warning.

"Thalk found company," the creature called as it charged after the noise the monk was making. Thalk was quickly followed by a second black-skinned ogre. As they moved into combat, the second ogre spotted a dwarf that looked rather tasty. Xon strategically remained hidden in the confines of a tree, and perhaps this explains his poor shooting. Falahara spent a few seconds trading blows with the winged ogre as she stepped between the ogre and the cleric.

?Durgmar smash dwarf!? was heard across the valley as the second ogre decided to use Bellum as a piton, driving him into the snow and ground. Temporarily staggered, Bellum watched as the group peppered the second ogre with arrows as the first began to retreat. Regaining his wits, Bellum stepped forward to deliver a mighty blow of his own, felling the fell creature with his blessed mace. Auhron finished off the retreating ogre with a pair of guinea pig shaped missiles, and the group, as a whole, insured that the creatures would remained dead.

The ogres themselves had little of value on them. In the camp, however, there was a large rod stuck in the ground and the remains of a group of dwarves the ogres had apparently been feasting on (perhaps eight or ten all together). Proper, if hasty, burial rights were performed for the dwarves, lead by Bellum with Annu?s assistance. Three items of interest were found among the scattered and broken dwarven equipment. These were two heavily worn but stout backpacks and a large sack, all of which contained iron rations. All told, the three bags contained enough food to hold seven for more than a month, clearly exceeding the visual capacity of the bags.

As Xon was crawling into the sack, Auhron identified it, and the other two bags, as magical items allowing access to extra-dimensional spaces. This was a great find; albeit the food was probably more valuable at the time, as the party sat down to experience the chewing exercise that is dwarven iron rations.

Ravensong then led the group to the entrance of the path's of the dead, demonstrating an unseen barrier reminiscent of static electricity. Even though half a day remained, Ravensong suggested making camp outside the paths, and settled down to prepare for the harrowing journey she knew was before them.

Normally, passing through the barrier is an uplifting experience. Being surrounded with pure positive energy has that effect. However, on the morning of first day of the second tenday of Ches, there were two exceptions. The first was involving Xon, whose discomfort stemmed from interaction of the barrier with the parasite growing inside him. The second was involving Ravensong, the only one in the group who truly knew what the Paths of the Dead held.

At their best, the Paths are barren wastelands and a tedious journey scrabbling between canyons and cliff faces, slipping on stones, and no trace of life save those you travel with. Most of the time, however, the physical dangers are far outweighed by the inevitable presence of unlife, clawing at your flesh during the day and searching for your very soul at night. Perhaps it would be better if there were incorporeal undead along the Path, then no one would risk such a foolish passing. But as far as anyone has found, there are not. Safety in the evenings can be found by finding shelter encased in caves of stone, blocking the outside world. The nights are naturally long, especially in the winter, and the sounds of claw against stone as the undead seek your blood makes each evening an eternity.

The boneyard, while not predicted, was not entirely unexpected. These creatures with no life of their own, no task but to destroy any living thing they encounter, lay dormant when the foolish are not traveling the Path. And there are very few who would make such a trip in the snow clogged winter months. That they tend to be found in clumps perhaps comes from an ending of their purpose in the place where their clawed hands eradicated the last vestiges of life.

What was unexpected was the man in the black cape. In a valley of trees as dead and lifeless as the rest of the surrounding environment, a creature the same size as a man was sitting in the branches of a great, skeletal tree in the middle of the path. His cloak, like his boots and gloves, were so deep a black, even Xon was jealous of them. His face was shadowed in the shallow hood of his cloak and hidden by a stark white porcelain mask.

“I have been waiting for you Molistead.”
“Me? What?” a confused Molistead utters.
“I am here to tell you that you must die. You are the one fated to stop my Lord, and so I have been sent to kill you.”
“Who are you? Who is your lord?” this from Xon.
“My name is unimportant. My lord is the great Namon’Shoon. As you will oppose him, you will die. I have set a set test to see if you are worthy of the death I would bring you. Seek me out in the bones. Your pet elves know it, even if they don’t admit it now. You have three months. If you fail in any of the tests I have left for you, then you will die. If you fail to seek me out in three months, your death will be worse, without honor, as you sleep. If you manage to make your way to me, you will still die, but you will die facing me, and it will be a death with honor.”

As the tirade continued, many of our heroes reach for their weapons, but suddenly the black caped figure shouts, “Bakeh emano hidat yah!” and fifteen creatures rise from the shadows of the trees themselves. Looking like nothing so much as a cross between a goblin and a pit bull, these creatures charge forward with clawed hands and sharp teeth lashing out at everything in their path, heading straight for Auhron. Turning to face this immediate threat, Falahara notices perhaps twenty more coming up from behind. A quick and bloody fight ensues. Annu has her hands full, keeping Auhron from falling beneath the horde. Falahara risks their wrath; taunting and lashing out with tongue and vine alike.

The fighting lasted less than a minute, the enemy destroyed to a “man”, and all our heroes still standing. Dante, Xon, and Auhron had come closer to death than any would like to contemplate, and yet, everyone survived. It was with this realization that they noticed that the black-cloaked man never participated in the fighting, and that he was nowhere to be seen.

This is a test post of sorts, since I am seeing how everything is working and whether or not the styles are working properly. I have a feeling that there is a little CSS work yet to do. I also have the feeling that I am going to have to surround the whole page in a table to get the page top, bottom and content to line up properly...

You crack-babies can get it here. Features an excellent photo of the DM's hordes of terrible glass... thingies. Photo thanks to Trey.

Traveling deep into the corrupted ruins, the group banished many undead abominations. Boudicea paid respect at the alters of Imshinn, cleaning them and giving prayers that he might return to hollow these his old domains. Many horrors were encountered; mummified remains rising from their tombs and great mastiffs of shadow whose very voice sent the noble Falahara and valiant Dante running for the safety of the sun above. The shadowy remains of monks offered thanks to the group as their spirits were freed from the torment of unlife. While the corrupted abbot did all in his power to slay the group, Imshinn was no longer with him, and he finally succumbed to the silver vine of Falahara. However, it was not the abbot that had corrupted the temple, but rather a prince who had corrupted the abbot and all these grounds.

Many a holy warrior had perished trying to cleanse these grounds, and the spirit of one hung still to his task. Over the body of Tremones, blackened and charred, but holy sword still in hand, they found demonic warriors and a beast of chains. Taking his quest upon her, Falahara received Tremones blessing, and his spirit gave all that it could to ensure their success. Tremones sword burst, his body crumpled to dust, and a blue light infused the silvered vine that Falahara wielded, a blue flame that burned deep into the sides of the infernal beast of chains, and later bit into the undead skeleton of the prince, whose blade of black nothingness tore through the party, and nearly ended those who ended him.

As the last blow against the dark prince was struck, the infernal darkness surrounding him and glowing red sigil painted across his room’s floor evaporated, and the entire complex collapsed. Little was left in the room, save the companions, two corpses, and a note from the hooded man who had threatened Auhron. The note conceded their skill, but now they were trapped, doomed to a slow death, and his prophecy would be fulfilled. Yet this too was a test, and the companions passed, escaping into the portals activated by honor. Escaping, the group was split apart, and it would be many a long night before they would be united again.

After the temple of the wind, the group was split. Four found themselves standing outside the temple and headed south to the cave they had holed up in the night before. There were digging sounds, and the next day evidence that airborne assailants were following them was found. They also encountered a pair of what looked to be long dead halflings with blood red fingernails and an annoying penchant to not notice the fact that they shouldn’t be walking (especially after Bellum lodged his great sword in one). After a brief altercation with them, Bellum decided to give them back the Prince’s demon-sword (voices in his head indicated that this was what they were after). Of course, he only did such after nearly laying the entire party flat due to painful repercussions of attacking the beasts. The one still conscious halfling grabbed the sword and disappeared, while Bellum took the opportunity to destroy the remaining one before it regained consciousness. Their powers of retribution still active while unconscious, this final effort laid low the valiant Bellum, though the healing powers of the druid were enough to bring him back from the brink of death.

And so the group continued north, with Auhron wondering what had happened to those meant to protect him, and trying futility to fathom why he was in such a dire strait. They made their way to the final temple of Kelemvor, and Boudicea, using her ability to meld into stone traveled beyond the guardian statue and negotiated admittance for the evening. No relating of any occurrences occurred, and the party left as uniformed as they left the priests, having had all thoughts of the masked man's letter flee from their thoughts with the trials they faced afterwards. A grueling and cold five days later, they reached the end of the paths. Stepping through the faintly shimmering border, they reentered the world of the living and it was as if a great burden had been lifted from their minds.

Shortly thereafter, as the cold began to settle into their bones, they came across a young man, sitting a foot above the snow and reading a book. As he saw them approach, he called out a warning.

“Change your course, for all that you will find this way is a cold and bitter death!”

After that unusual outburst, he was much more helpful. Apparently, he had been given this task by his master (being just an apprentice wizard), and actually had no idea what the missive was all about. Probably just a morose joke on Raymond’s part, since he had been here for three weeks now, and had only seen two other travelers,

“. . . like the sun and the moon. The first a blazing, redhaired woman who did not stop to head the warning, but ran as nothing I’ve ever seen. The second, a man with a porcelain mask, painted by moonbeams it looked like, following after. He had important business in Nar’Faell, and a message for a band of travelers. I think you might be them, and it sounded like a warning. ‘Though bone may be reanimated by others, it is in the dying beast that the danger lies.' he said. Can’t make heads nor tails of it, but perhaps you can? . . .”

After agreeing to take a message to this young apprentice's "girlfriend" for the price of four scrolls of endure cold, the party set off. Within a couple of hours, they approached the outskirts of the settlement, seeing the target house up on a hill. Quick investigation proved that something was amiss, and that the missus of the house was missing various limbs. Dante immediately jumped to the roof, while Auhron made use of his newly found ability to spontaneously fly. Coming up out of a hole in the roof was a Belkier. After a gruesome, but quick, struggle, this creature was dispatched back to its home plane, and the contents of the cottage were searched. Unfortunately, it was impossible to deliver the message, as Andunna, the apprentice’s girlfriend, was beyond contact and had been for a few days having been rent by the rampaging Belkier when it was first summoned to this plane.

Deciding to continue on to town instead of confront the soon to be grieving apprentice, the group reached Rybath. At the gates of this walled city, they were challenged by Bit Parte. Asking about business and noting the travelers in a log, he suggested Raymond's as both the best inn and the best smithy in town. Apparently, Raymond was a dwarven wizard of some skill, with a penchant for gambling. When they reached the inn, they were greeted by an elf, covered in tattoos. Auhron, thinking to impress this apprentice quickly took to the air (never one to conserve fly spells, or flashy entrances). Unphased, the elf traced two blue swirls on his palm and joined Auhron, rising to eye level, and then returning to the floor to see to the needs of the rest of the patrons. Raymond, the dwarven wizard, then challenged Dante to a jumping match, and though he performed stupendously, was outdone by the agile monk. In exchange, food for the evening was free while rooms were paid for with Aurhon's performances. Raymond then challenged Bellum to a contest of arms, specifically archery. The wager, his axe versus a small service: Find Kinakunia's library and return whatever texts still remain.

The archery contest took place the next morning. Both dwarves fired three bolts from the same crossbow. The bow was enchanted, but the bolts were not, and Boudicea and Auhron looked on to insure no magic was used to alter the outcome of the contest. Displaying unquestionable skill, Raymond placed all three bolts in the center of the target, managing to split one of them. Bellum, knowing this dwarf had far more skill than he, congratulated Raymond, and managed to hit the target with all three bolts (not an insignificant accomplishment given the distance of almost four hundred feet). While accepting defeat and preparing to return, the snow beneath the groups feet erupted as a huge worm-like creature with glowing red eyes burst from its burrow. Raymond was thrown clear and lost in a snowdrift, while everyone else managed to keep their feet. A quick (very quick once Raymond cast mass haste) fight ensued, and the creature was defeated. So quick was the beasts destruction that it did not even have a chance to retreat back beneath the snows. Bellum took the eyes, scale, and claw as souvenir of his first encounter with a Remorhaz. The rest of the day was spent preparing for a trip to Waterford, the hometown of the great wizard Kinakunia.

Leading his guests down into the basement, and further into his study, Raymond explained that there was a magic portal deep within the stone here. It would take them near Waterford, Kinakunia’s hometown. More specifically, it would place them a few days south, beside a river that would lead them there. He would have one of his apprentices scry the area every couple of days and reopen the portal once the group returned. They were to search out the abode of Kinakunia (who should now be long since dead) and recover whatever tomes possible. While Dante and Auhron stepped through with almost no hesitation, Boudicea required a token of good faith before embarking on this journey. Raymond, seeing the wisdom in placating those doing him this favor, gave her a ring which would summon his apprentice, Millian, with the utterance of a simple word. Needless to say, Millian was not too pleased with the prospect.

For some reason, Bellum did not appear on the other side after everyone had walked through. The portal went dark, and Auhron quickly discovered that it could not be opened from this side. But the weather was wonderful, and the party was not concerned. In this land, spring had set in, and a recent rain had lent a brilliant palate of colors to the area. Sweet flowers bloomed, and a small stream burbled nearby. Knowing Bellum's penchant for popping up in the most unusual places, and his proficiency with following a trial, the three companions decided to head out for Waterford and hope that he could catch up. A little over a day an a half's travel brought them to a small village. There was a low wall, that no-one in the group had trouble with (the monk clearing it by leaps and bounds, the sorcerer floating over with his new favorite technique, and the druid taking the form of a small bird). The town appeared deserted, until the three noticed the faint noises of an argument drifting down from the riverbank. Approaching, they found the entire village round about two arguing women. After a brief period of "diplomatic intervention", Auhron was mugged by the town guard and Boudicea managed to finally get the full story from the apparent leaders of the town.

Some, as Auhron called them, "fish-people" (River Locatha) had decided to take up residence in the millhouse. Since there were no longer any among the residents of this town that spoke their language, and apparently none of them spoke the common tongue, an impasse had been reached. No townsfolk had been able to come within bowshot of the mill, but no townsfolk have been killed either; just warned away with some well-placed bolts.

Boudicea took it upon herself to intervene in this, and in the language of druids managed to communicate with them. The only member of their tribe who spoke common had been killed by something unnatural. The grounds of the river source were their home given by the humans as part of an agreement. These "lands" were now untenable, and so they have taken up residence here. Boudicea agreed to examine the source of their troubles, and if possible irradiate the unnatural menace. In exchange, one of the fish-people agreed to lead them to their old home and a truce and cease-fire was agreed to.

Traveling north up the river was a two day excursion. Along the way, a pair of feral pigs "attacked" the group; which is to say that Dante heard something while on watch and dropped a large hog with a flying leap. The second hog was befriended by Boudicea after she bodily intervened between a pork-happy monk and a rather outclassed tenderloin.

When the group reached the source of the river, their guide excused himself and retreated further downstream. They found the remains of a town, and a small infestation of zombies. Further exploring lead them to the ghost of a fish-person. Apparently, this creature was the cause of the unnatural deaths, as it warned away the approaching adventurers. This poor soul had been killed by a wicked trap below the lake. Near the center of these underground caves, he had detected a powerful entity that he intended to insure did not harm his clan. Instead, he wound up dead. Poor smeagul. But with the aid of these adventurers, perhaps this powerful elemental can be tamed, and given into the custody of one who will remain forever to oversee the well being of the area.

Bellum stepped through the stone portal into the dying light of a warm spring sun. Wherever he was, his cold winter gear was no longer such a necessity. A quick glance around the glade quickly revealed to his trained eye the tracks of his companions, the monk’s sandals making quite the unusual impression on the soft turf. Following their trail, her skirted a town and headed north along the river. Not long into the next day, he discovered the party noising around a half-flooded village and lake; probably Waterford.

Only partially buying the story of the ghost (and after yoinking the various potions this ghost will never need again and being rejoined by their erstwhile companion Bellum), the group heads below the waters. The frozen body was tunneled around, merely to trigger a second trap which summoned large turtle like creatures. Dispatching these easily, the group reached an intersection. Continuing into the current, they found a raised platform surrounded by an invisible wall of force. Climbing to the top of the platform, they encountered a Kobold, apparently trapped in this watery world.

After it became obvious that the group could not help it escape, the Kobold attacked. Mimicking Auhron, it took to the air and proceeded to attack the group seemingly at random. After Dante managed to land a few good blows, the creature reached out with its mind for Bellum to protect it. Unfortunately for the creature, Bellum managed to slip into the waters below after charging a quite surprised Dante. The Kobolds sword and dagger quickly followed Bellum as the undead menace was dispatched. This would be the second time Dante took out such a creature of the night.

A quick search of the platform (including the defiling of a tomb) produced a few items of interest; not the least of which was a silver trimmed, purple cape that Auhron took an immediate liking to.

Further exploring the realms beneath the waters, they encountered a cup with a spell of binding, and finally the library of Kinakunia. Only a few texts were left undamaged by the water, and these the group placed in their magical bag of holding. As they were leaving, they were set upon by the spirit of the Locatha medicine man, the ghost who had directed them down here. They handedly dispatched it; albeit Auhron did feel his life and looks fluttering away until the restorative magic of the druid interceded.

With a soul-shivering scream, the Locatha ghost evaporates into the damp air. Auhron lies unconscious in the knee high water. Dante and Bellum are shaken; never have they encountered such a strange and horrifying opponent (one that blades seemed not to touch). Boudicea has the presence of mind to pull Auhron from the water. After expending the last of her curative magics and making good use of an old and trusty wand, Boudicea is quite ready to leave with a plan in mind.

The body of the ghost must be given a burial, and the water elemental must be bound to the natural order of the place such that no being living or dead is in command of it. Using his remaining strength to send guinea pigs of pure force, Auhron dislodges the body of the Locatha medicine man from the icy trap and Boudicea uses her spear to pull it from the dangerous area.

Quickly leaving these underwater caverns before the spell of water-breathing wears off, Boudicea asks Bellum if he could REVERENTLY carry the body and accompany her as she returns to the Locatha guide to discover acceptable burial rights while Auhron and Dante remain in the town to provide “a soul in Waterford” and discover what they may about the use of the Chalice of Binding. Thinking that there would be no more reverent place for the finely crafted club, shield, and corpse, Bellum promptly tosses the body in his bag (finding that it does just fit), and follows Boudicea out of town, as Dante and Auhron sit down in the abandoned temple to read their respective texts.

Under the signed and drawn direction of Gylup, the Locatha guide, Bellum assembles a simple raft and lines it with dry wood. Boudicea prepares the body, ensuring all his possessions are still with him, coats the whole craft in oil, sets it alight and sends it on its way with a few words to Obad-Hai. She is touched to see a tear in Bellum’s eye at the sight of the ceremony (Bellum weeps to see such finely crafted tools of war eaten by fire and sent to a watery grave). On the return trip to Waterford to perform the binding ritual, both Bellum and Boudicea notice a large number of small tracks as well as the boots of two beings somewhat larger than any who currently accompany them.

Meanwhile . . .

As Auhron immerses himself in the study of magics far beyond his own power, i.e. trying desperately not to surround the monk in dancing lights as Dante studies the ancient texts of his sect, he overhears Dante mumble "Dragon's Hammer". Abandoning completely his task of searching the wizards journal for more information (he is fairly confident that he can bring the energies from the cup to summon the water elemental, and Boudicea should be able to place the binding) he sends his senses out to his familiar who scrambles over to Dante and pears at the text the monk is reading. It seems that this fighting technique, a long lost secret of Dante’s sect of monks, is the third element of the prophecy pertaining to the White Dragon. Making a mental note to relate this very important information to the rest of the party, he resumes his studies of the wizards journal, pondering what the "true heart of stone" is, or how one would acquire the "corded strength of a giant" much less the "poisoned sting of a winged wyrm". Then again, that has little to do with summoning or binding.

As the hours pass, Dante begins to practice a few simple techniques. One is a simple sweeping attack that leaves the victim open for subsequent blows. Another is something Dante has only heard of, a leaping attack known as "Wolf’s Fang Fist". These are some of the simpler techniques; though he is certain that in time he will master all that the scrolls contain. As he completes a sweep against a fictitious foe, he freezes, listening to voices brought to him on the wind. They are high pitched, and he does not recognize the language, though he believes he could mimic the sound. When they pass, he mentions them to Auhron, who recognizes Dante’s attempts as mangled Draconic. He can make out but a few phrases. It sounds as if Dante is trying to say "fish folk gone, sunlover city fall, ublegeck revenge at presentation, our city, watcher will maglork suspicious..."

Three hours later, Boudicea and Bellum return. In a fit of forthcoming speech, Auhron mentions that Dante’s fighting style is the last element in the prophecy of the White Dragon. That he is part of a prophecy he has not heard of leads Dante to interrogate Bellum and Auhron. Apparently, the destruction of the White Dragon along Snake Way has been foretold, and Auhron, Bellum, and Dante are necessary to bring this about as they bring the Dragon's Hammer, Anvil, and Blood. Boudicea is on the verge of cursing her fate by the time this is finally divulged, as her God has tasked her with effectively ensuring the magic buffoon, suicidal and dangerous dwarf, and Dante reach an ice cave and the Dragon within. A few hours later, Auhron mentions that the binding must take place beneath the water, where the stream enters the underground caverns. With the chalice, the water elemental can be summoned and a new set of instructions can be given. It is decided that this will be done in the morning, after Boudicea regains her spells, as she will require Aurhon’s aid in the ritual. Bellum and Dante are encouraged to come along, should things get ugly. And who knows, Dante might just get another go at the Kobold vampire left helpless in midair above a river of flowing water.