Session 11 - Return to the dungeon.

Yannicks Tale

A day of rest and recouperation, I think... Bomani seemed thoroughly drained and took to his bed without so much as a second Ale.  We'd see how he felt after a day off.

It was probably about time we started asking around... we were hardly the first to arrive and those who had been here longer were sure to know something about something.  Our miracle and the High Pumbah's show had gathered quite a crowd and our faces were now known enough that Quill could ask her fellow Solists who the slain priest was.

They didn't know, but while I was discussing the matter of where we had been with Rufus the subject of our predecessors came up and he knew of them.  Names were spoken, including one that had meaning to Rufus.  The others may have missed it but I did not, though I didn't speak out for I too have lost kin and have no urge to cause him further pain.

We spoke of the travels and trevails, my potential dragon sighting to the north and the fate of adventurers: scared to death on the edge of the Swamp to the south-west.  I became more convinced or Rufus's sincerity, for all he was a man of books, and we established that in two weeks time we would return to guard the next shipment to the villagers.

The dead priest's name came up and armed with this, Quill returned to the enclave and heard of his misssion: to uncover a relic of Sol from an old temple to the North.  It spoke of further north than we were, though, so what the poor fool was doing in our dungeon I do not know.  We all agreed that should such an item be found none of us would contest Sol's ownership of it and Quill seemed contented with that.

We also found virtue in Paige's new Hireling, who revealed a map purported to lead to her family estates and an heirloom she had hoped to regain for the ghosts of her disstant kinsmen who fled the isle without it in the distant past.  Or something like that, but largely I was interested in the fact that she didn't want any of the rest of the loot or know where the map started.  So again, good plan in principle but it didn't help us much right now.

Alas, neither did Bomani... he was still as drained as before, though infinitely better than he had been when wrapped up in that blanket, eh?  He couldn't see himself leaving his bed any time in the next week or two and even if we carried him out, the village would have little to offer his recouperation.  So with Cromwell left to tend him, we set out once more to kill subhumans and make the village safer.

On our arrival at the village, we discussed the ongoing arrangements with the new headman and struck up a bargain with him... we cleared out a ruined house for the use of our party and struck a bargain.  When their own houses were ready again they would fix up ours good as new, or mayhap as good as old since it was a ruin.  We'd have to get back their supplies, especially their ale, and chip in for a barrel of nails such as they might run short of with all the works.  Even without a roof, walls keep wind at bay and the night was a little better than it could have been.

My thoughts on the dungeon remain clear: to enter freely we must own the entrance and to do that we must clear out the creatures who react to our entry... the remans of the Kabolds and the giant rats we heard chittering beneath the stairwell.  Only then could we safely access the area that the Bandits had been using, short of exploring twisted passageways until luck brought us back around.

We heard the barricade manned-or beinged, at least- and the stuck door before the corner continues to refute casual opening despite having creatures within that are smart enough to shut up when noise comes past: more vermin to be disposed of.

On my urging we step downstairs to investigate the Rats and hear them more numerous than we had thought... we risk alerting them by opening a door into a dank, half-flooded area and I am hard pressed to explain the risk without making as much noise jawing as they we would splashing.  Our chance to assault the Rat-things relies upon stealth: if we cannot take them by surprise then we will suffer much harsher battle with them.


It hangs on Quill's decision...

It's gonna be wet...

Judges Perspective

Another 'off combat' session. We seem to be alternating these, as the players get into a fight one week and spend the next week regrouping and planning their next move. I think a part of this is the nature of the mortal wounds table and the lethality of combat. There's definitely a sense that 'If we get in a one fight and anyone gets wounded we're pretty much screwed until we heal up again'. And this was echoed in a G+ discussion about the logistics of getting back to town to heal and recruit new hirelings.

This is, I fully accept, something of a problem - and it's one of my own making. The dungeon is a good 2-3 days away from the town, and although there's a village (well, hamlet) closer, the village lacks the adventuring amenities such as a cleric with healing spells (let along Restore Life and Limb), a tavern, or a comfortable place to sleep and rest. That said, the party should have something resembling a home base in a few in game weeks.

Meanwhile, back in the dungeon, after what was actually a very clever bit of play involving a secret door to avoid the 'Greeting message' played to new visitors to the complex, the party has discovered a flooded area downstairs, and they can hear big (human-sized?) rats in the darkness behind them. Will they explore forward and get wet? Investigate the ratty noises? Or go back up the stairs and carry on exploring the first level of the dungeon? Stay tuned my single loyal reader!