From the notes of Alric Brethencourt of Veluna
Earthday, 20th day of the Readying, the woods north and
east of the moathouse
Our
encounter with the wood goblins - heard them referred to as Xvarts by one of my
companions later - in the end only lasted a few minutes, but brutal they were.
Despite their diminutive stature they proved quite a challenge, as they had the
advantage of surprise and superior position. Things got even more confusing in
the thick of the fray as the Xvart shaman unleashed some hex in the form of a
bilious cloud of noxious gas. Several were stricken, friend and foe alike,
myself included, and we could not help ourselves but fall to ground, coughing
and vomiting. Moments before the brave charge of Chryseis that mortally wounded
the wererat that led the assault, leaving it to Wilstan to finish the job and
lob off his head. The goblinoid shaman had more dirty magic up his sleeves
however, as he managed to instill a dreadful fear in Chryseis’ heart that sent
her running as fast as her legs could carry her. But instants later, trying to
extricate myself from the fumes, a handful of remaining Xvarts up in the trees
peppered me with arrows, and all went black…
But
my companions and I lived to tell the tale. Thanks to the arcane power wielded
by Weebrian and Spugnoir and the fighting skills of Kazireh and Madrak, they
killed enough of the Xvarts to make the surviving ones rout. The blast of a
horn sounded in the forest at that particular moment, its meaning unknown even
to the ranger, but undoubtedly no good can be expected of such signs. Weebrian
found the staff the goblin shaman had dropped when he ran, and immediately
suspected the item to have magical qualities. Simultaneously Wilstan made the
grim discovery that the vicious wererat’s corpse had slowly turned into that of
a gnome. What madness or vile influence Lareth had exerted over the creature to
bring it to this fate, we can only guess at. The gnome had in his possession an
enchanted blade, named Halfman, which seemed to have been forged with the
deliberate purpose of slaying gnomes. We took this evil blade, with the firm
intention of having it destroyed in the forge of Hommlet’s smithy. After a
brief few moments of rest and reprieve from the arduous journey, we hurriedly
collected ourselves and proceeded on our way back to Hommlet. Fortunately none
of the horses had been hurt or killed during the attack, and the cart
containing our plunder likewise was in good shape.
It
came as a great relief that we reached the old road to Hommlet without further
incident. Before long we were greeted by a familiar face; none other than the
ranger Elmo. Admit even I was glad to see him for once. Together with Elmo we
returned to High Watch and with dusk approaching, we could look forward to a
night spent in safety, and relative comfort, as the ranger had been so kind to
provide us with food and ale, a veritable feast after living off of rations for
days. As we settled down, a strange sight presented itself however. A huge bear
suddenly entered the secluded refuge in the wood, together with a robed man. My
initial suspicions proved unwarranted, however, as my companions Kazireh and
Tuffnel immediately identified the man as Jaroo Ashstaff, the druid of Hommlet,
and his docile bear Basil. Indeed, they rejoiced at his sight and welcomed him
heartily. While they went off to talk privately, and Elmo and Madrak were
telling tall tales of their adventures, Weebrian, Chryseis and I decided to finish
the last leg of our journey, so we may spend the night in the comfort of the
Welcome Wench. We had an unusual guide in Basil, who betrayed a greater
intelligence than is common in animals, and indeed even than that of some
rangers I know. The bear unhurriedly led us back to Hommlet, and as we reached
the outskirts of the village, we were left dumbfounded with what we discovered
there. A huge, thick hedge had suddenly sprung up and seemed to skirt around
the town as far as we could see from our position. There was little doubt in
our minds that this was the handiwork of Ashstaff, but the immensity and scale
left us quite baffled. How we could gain entry to the town with this barrier
blocking the way would have remained a conundrum, if it wasn’t for Basil the
bear who simply walked through it. An illusion had been put in place, covering
a small gap in the otherwise very real hedge. Mutely the bear seemed to beckon
us to follow, and so we complied. During this time we had been observed by a
bird or other winged creature from on high, and we feared the enemy might have
been tracking our movements; later it would be revealed to be another of lord
Burne’s minions, however.
More
bracing changes greeted us in the village proper. Work on the tower and its
fortifications seemed to have progressed at a quick pace, with a moat having
been dug - still dry at that time - and work on the gatehouse to the keep
finished. The ballista we salvaged would make an excellent addition to these
defences already in place, as I’m sure sir Rufus would soon concur. We stopped
by the keep, to inform the lords of our return, and were told a meeting was
taking place at the inn, and we could find them there. So for all intents and
purposes, the Welcome Wench would be our last stop of this long day. On the way
there, we noticed how most of the houses had been boarded up or reinforced in
other ways; it seemed the reality of their dire situation had become clear to
the inhabitants of Hommlet. Equally the yard of the smithy of Smythe, the blacksmith
- if ever a man was fittingly named for his profession - was devoid of the
usual jumble of tools and furnishings. Learned also that the man was the
disciple of Jaroo Ashstaff, which struck me as odd; could not say why however.
The Inn of the Welcome Wench was
abustle. Apart from the usual prominent town members who were part of the
council, we spotted a group of gnomes from the Kron Hills. Weebrian, skilled in
their tongue as he studied under a gnomish illusionist, entered into a
conversation with them and learned their shipments of stone to the village had
resumed. Among the crowd in the inn we saw sir Rufus, lord Burne and the
viscount’s representative, sir Otis. A strong and amiable man, the ranger Otis
turned out to be none other than Elmo’s brother, but higher up in the ranks. It
quickly became clear to me which of the siblings was the sharper tool in the
shed. Sir Otis had just very recently returned from a mission in the Gnarley
and reconnaissance in Nulb, and his accounts seemed to confirm that Lareth and
her minions had retreated to this mean place.
We
discussed our findings with the three of them, and will the news of our victory
at the moathouse was well received, there was also concern and caution for the
future. As a special point of interest we showed them the promissory note we
found among Lareth’s possessions, signed by the local merchants Davi & Hox,
self-styled “messieurs”. Was slightly surprised by their reaction, as they
seemed rather tolerant about these men selling arms to the forces of evil. Lord
Burne has final say in these matters of course, but we advised that the pair of
them be kept an eye on, to make sure their future dealings are beyond reproach.
As
the immediate threat to the village had passed, we could take some time to rest
and prepare for what was to come. Over the course of the next few weeks
Weebrian, Chryseis and Wilstan returned to Verbobonc, to their respective
orders, for which purpose they used a magical mirror of lord Burne to teleport
them there instantly. Philius Tilm left in the night, leaving only his thanks
and a goodbye note. Equally our friend Spugnoir said his farewells, as he
planned to return to Greyhawk. It seemed he was embroiled in some sort of
criminal case there, being accused of stealing and selling items from his
college. This was new to me; if I had known of his problems I would have had to
refuse his presence in our company. Our mission is too important for someone
with an unsavory reputation to cast the shadow of suspicion on us. Used the
available time to follow a rigorous training regimen, together with Madrak and
sir Otis, and practiced the lance quite a bit. Used most of the money we had
gained from the various hoards in the moathouse to order a new suit of plate
armor from Smythe the blacksmith. Also went to check on the progress Rannos
Davi had made in identifying the weapon Seer Foe, the flail I had wrested from
the dead hands of Blaag Blackhand. Making my inquiries at the Trading Post, it
quickly became clear something peculiar was going on. The item had been lost,
as well as others, during transport to Verbobonc, so said monsieur Davi.
Demanding fair recompense, his brutish associate Gremag Hox nearly accosted me.
Had half a mind to show him to mind his betters, but that would have turned the
situation in their favor with the authorities. Undoubtedly we will be seeing
the flail in the hands of other evil-doers soon, and monsieur Hox will learn a
lesson he won’t be forgetting anytime soon.
Love your work Yves, many thanks, DM Steve
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