Tales of the BladesBlack

TRAVELOGUE

There was nothing else to do at this point but continue on, so they kept walking and wondering what had happened in the woods until they reached Red Larch. Tired, hungry, thirsty and mostly curious, they headed for the pub. At the Swinging Sword Inn, they met the barmaid and proprietress, Kaylessa Irkell. She thought that the symbols might have something to do with the weird weather they’ve been having. It went from cold to hot to wet to earthquakes randomly. It seemed to be coming from Lance Rock and she suggested they check it out, throwing 50 gold pieces into the bargain. They reflected on whether they should go or not – it wasn’t any of their business after all – but they had no real leads on Jolliver Grimjaw and Gar Shatterkeel so what the heck? Kaylessa thought they should stop in and talk to Constable Harburk, he might know something to help them in their journey. So, they went to his office. What a self-important douche! Thoroughly disgusted, the Blades Black left Red Larch and set off for Lance Rock. The only piece of information he had that they didn’t know already was that a delegation from Mirabar never made it to Red Larch. But Mirabar was north of Red Larch and the Westwood was south, so these things didn’t seem to be connected. As they walked along, Pudge wondered if the townsfolk were scared of a nor’easter. They had them all the time on the eastern seaboard. Not that he had any clue what to do if they encountered a nor’easter, especially when they were so far inland… All of a sudden, a bolt of blue lighting shot out from behind a large rock. This must be Lance Rock! This guy gave them a run for their money. He had all sorts of spells he threw at them, things that Pudge had only heard of before. His rudimentary spells and his companions’ weapons barely made a scratch on the guy! Finally, Corbin caught him in the stomach with his glaive and he buckled. They quickly tied him up and shoved a rag in his mouth to stop him from casting any more spells. After some debate, they decided he may be worth more alive than dead, so Ophelia cut out his tongue (which made Pudge toss his cookies) and they started marching him back to Red Larch.

They hadn’t gone too far, and Pudge was very satisfied with the group, when a large figure jumped unexpectedly out from behind the rock, right behind Pudge. “Me Zon!”, the figure shouted. The next thing he knew, Ophelia was slapping him awake. “Pudge! Wake up, you sissy! It’s just a half-orc!” she hissed. The large figure was still behind her, talking to Miradon and Corbin. They seem to be getting along splendidly, in fact. Nobody was concerned at all that Pudge had nearly had a heart attack. Amazingly, this Zon orc-fellow seemed to be joining the Blades Black. “Sorry me scare you,” said Zon as he held out his hand to help Pudge up. Maybe this guy wasn’t as scary as he seemed, Pudge reasoned as they walked along. He was actually kind-of quiet and unassuming. He tried to make small talk with Zon as they walked back to Red Larch, but Zon’s Common skills were somewhat limited. Instead, they bonded over Pudge’s ability to make animals fart, and sending his mage hand behind Corbin and making rude gestures while he and Miradon were in some kind of huddle. Once back in Red Larch, they handed the sorcerer (a necromancer, to be precise) over to Constable Douche. Er, Harburk.

They were pretty battered up after the fight with the necromancer, so they had some dinner and a nice, long rest at the inn. Or at least most of them did. Pudge was bunking with Ophelia, who complained in the morning that he’d been yelling in his sleep about a snake-haired man. Pudge vaguely remembered a nightmare to that effect, but couldn’t quite make it come into focus. He apologized to Ophelia. He thought that maybe she hadn’t accepted his apology when the ground started shaking. He had no doubt that she could make the earth tremble when she was in high dudgeon. But it turned out to be a real earthquake and, as they ran outside, they saw a huge sinkhole in the middle of town into which some children fell. Constable Douche was telling everyone to stay back, but Ophelia was having none of that. She grabbed her rope and rappelled down into the sinkhole. One by one, the children hung onto the rope and were pulled up and out of the sinkhole by Zon. Hmmm, his great strength may be an asset to the Blades Black after all! While in the sinkhole, Ophelia spied a large cavern at the bottom, and double doors. This was no ordinary hole! The townspeople were telling everyone to stay out, but Ophelia was having none of that either. And once she made up her mind, well, the rest of the group followed.

After the double doors, there was a hallway which they quickly learned was booby-trapped. There were three cages and arrows which shot out of the wall. Ophelia used the skills she’d learned on the streets of Waterdeep to climb up the wall and cross to the other side. Then she disabled the arrows. The group carefully went across and only Corbin and Zon managed to get caught by the cages. Thanks to Zon’s great strength, they bent the bars of the cage and escaped. On the other side, there were gigantic statues of dwarves with their battleaxes, and beyond that was another room in which they found a young boy, who’d obviously been there a few days without food or water. He was lying next to a very old statue of a tall dwarf, with the inscription “Displease not the Delvers”. Zon knelt down by the boy and asked his name and what he was doing there. He didn’t seem to be scared or upset (except, maybe, at being accosted by a half-orc). He told the Blades Black that his name was Braelen and he was being punished for not bringing a paper from his dad, Rotharr, to his dad’s friend, Ilmeth. Punishment of this sort was to be expected, although he was still scared. This enraged Zon, who lashed out at the statue, reducing it to rubble. As the group intended to continue on into the cavern, which would not be appropriate for the boy, Pudge gave him some food and water, and lit a rock with one of his spells to keep him company, and they left the boy there. On the way out, Ophelia dropped the cages behind them.

As they went out from the room, they went into a twisting passageway, and soon came upon a small group of men with uniforms and a triangle symbol. These, the Blades Black found, were the Bringers of Woe. “You have got to be kidding!” spluttered Pudge, “These are the people that the three idiots I met on the road were trying to join?” At this, Corbin started laughing uproariously. “What?” asked Pudge. “You met three Bringers of Woe wannabees? There had been four when I encountered them! Only three made it past my glaive!” gasped Corbin. Then Ophelia and Miradon started in. “We bumped into those asses on the boat. There had been four; only three made it past Ophelia!” Miradon managed to get out. “Me no know why laughing,” said Zon, “Start with six. I kill one, five run away.” “We are the Bringers of Woe. We are here to satisfy your curiosity!” they said. And the battle was on. Not long after, the battle was off as the Bringers of Woe ran away.

Ophelia used the stealth she had learned on the streets of Waterdeep to go ahead of the others and check out the twisting passageway. Around the corner, she stopped short, staring. Miradon caught up with her and he, too, stopped and stared. They looked at each other. Were they really seeing this? A rock floating above a pedestal in the middle of the room? They carefully walked around it – there was no visible means for it to be floating, and Miradon didn’t feel that magic was involved. The others caught up and did the same thing. One by one they walked by it, marvelling. Around the next corner, they snapped back to attention. There was a room with dead humans scattered about. They had the symbol that they’d seen in the woods carved into their foreheads – the triangle with the line halfway through. Was this done to themselves because they were part of that group, or was this done to them by that group? At the far side of the room, there were sarcophagi with skeletons on them. Corbin went for a closer look. As he did so, the skeleton let out a sound and a horrible smell. “Ha ha, Pudge,” he yelled back. Not to waste an opportunity, Corbin relieved one of the humans of his armor. Except for the crest, it was pretty good! This turned out to be a good idea, as they rounded another corner they came across an old man whittling. They asked him who he was and what he was doing. Initially suspicious, he looked at Corbin’s armor and asked them if they were part of the Black Earth cult. “Why, yes,” said Corbin, puffing out his chest and pulling out his best bravado, “We’ve been sent to make sure that everything is as it should be.” Believing him, the old man told him his name is Baragustas and he was successfully guarding the Chamber of Moving Stones and whittling tomato stakes. He let the group pass into an enormous chamber filled with stones which were floating like the one in the passageway. That shouldn’t have come as a surprise, given the name of the chamber, but it was awe-inspiring all the same. Until the priest attacked from behind one of the pillars. “Coward! Show yourself!” shouted Corbin as a bolt of lightning shot past. Miradon let arrows fly in the direction of the bolt, and they saw the man duck between two more pillars. As he ran through them, he pointed a wand at the ceiling, causing rocks to fall down, leaving the Blades Black no opportunity to pursue him. They had enough of a look at him to see that he had plate armor with the triangle symbol on it; the Black Earth Guard. The symbols were starting to make sense to the Blades Black! As usual, Ophelia scooped up everything of value found in the chamber. Of particular interest were some silver bars. They didn’t look like they were used for commerce; they had strange symbols on them.

Once the Black Earth Guard priest was defeated, the group continued through the chamber and into a hallway. There was only one way out; a trap door in the ceiling. Corbin stepped up to it. “Leave it to me!” he declared, “Oof! Aaf! Or not. Zon, can you…” At which point Zon gave a push on the trap door and opened it. Strangely, it led into a shed in a yard in Red Larch. Dumbfounded and a little disoriented, they made their way back to the inn to get some straight answers from Kaylessa. The information they got was very interesting, although it didn’t shed much more light on what was going on. She then pointed them towards Braylin’s dad, Roethar. Threatening him with his life if he ever punished his son that way again, Roethar confessed that the note was very important as it had something to do with the Black Earth guys. All he knew was that they’re waiting for some great power to arrive, at which time they’ll take over the world. It’s the Black Earth god that’s making all the wacky weather. Kaylessa then told them that Lumira Auldarahk is the town priestess of the Sune religion, and a Harper. Miradon was familiar with the Harpers, though he’d never met one. They are a loose group of spellcasters who oppose the abuse of magical power, and remain hidden, for good reason! She might know something about the Black Earth cult.

News of the Blades Black’s arrival back in Red Larch spread like wildfire. Everyone was excited to see the ever-more-famous group who went into the sinkhole and lived to tell the tale, on top of the other rumours of their exploits which were floating around. One person approached Miradon with a book in his hand, explaining that his name was Endrith, he was from Womford and had picked up a book in Waterdeep which was written in dwarvish. He couldn’t read dwarvish, but the pictures had fascinated him so he bought it. It turned out that it was a book detailing the architecture of the city of Tyar-Besil. Why this guy came to Miradon was rather confusing; was there no one in Red Larch who could read dwarvish? Miradon tucked this piece of information away in his memory; something was telling him it may become important.

They showed Kaylessa the silver bars they’d found, in case she knew anything about them. She did – they were trade bars, used more for diplomacy than the value of their silver. There had been a delegation from Mirabar who had disappeared after stopping over in Beliard, a small town not far from Red Larch. No one knew what had become of them. The delegation would have had trade bars such as those. On hearing the name Mirabar, a shepherd by the name of Larmon Greenboot spoke up. “Excuse me,” he said. “I couldn’t help overhear someone say something about the delegation from Mirabar. I know they’ve gone missing and I’ve been sitting here wondering if the shallow graves I’d seen in the Sumber Hills, by the Dessarin River, might have anything to do with them. The graves are new, and there’s been odd activity coming from the nearby tower. Weird creatures flying in and out. I can show you where the graves are, since you are the fearless Blades Black, not a scaredy-cat shepherd like me.” “Mmm, sheep taste good,” mused Zon. “Have no fear, Larmon!” exclaimed Corbin, “We will accompany you to the graves and get to the bottom of it. And I (almost) promise that my friend Zon, here, will not eat any of your sheep!”

Larmon soon led them to the spot where the shallow graves were to be found. There were four graves, and the bodies within were wearing the symbols of Mirabar’s army. Were these the guards who had been protecting the delegation? If so, where is the rest of the delegation? They sat and thought about that for awhile. Well, most of them did. Zon just thought about how yummy a mutton chop would be right about now. And by “mutton chop”, he meant “an entire sheep”. While they were in thought they heard a sound “whoosh whoosh whoosh” like the wings of a very large bird. These were the weird flying creatures Larmon had told them about. Or so they figured. When they turned to Larmon for confirmation, they found he’d gone. With all his sheep.

With the sheep gone, Zon was in a bad, bad mood. It’s not wise to let Zon be in a bad mood for any length of time, so they bent their steps towards the tower. It was an impressive structure, 800 feet high sitting on top of the Feathergale Spire in the middle of a chasm. As Corbin and Miradon strategized a way to get in, Pudge walked around to the gatehouse by the drawbridge and rang the bell. He rocked back and forth on his heels and whistled while waiting for the ring to be answered. This extremely counter-intuitive tactic produced the completely unexpected result of them being admitted into the tower once they stated that they were looking for someone named Thurl Merosska. Corbin and Miradon were on high alert – was this a trap? Was this Lady Savra of the Feathergale Knights, who let them in, a friend or foe? Lady Savra led them into a comfortably-decorated room with a few men standing around. “Hey, Thurl!” shouted Ophelia. At this, the best-dressed man of the group turned around, ever so slowly, a sneer on his face. As he saw Ophelia, the look on his face turned to one of incredulity. “Yes,” he said slowly with his large blue eyes trained on Ophelia alone, “What can I do for you?” “Um, yeah. We got somethin’ for ya,” she stammered as she thrust the box at him, obviously flustered. “Thank you. This is quite a heavy box for someone as delicate as yourself. Why do your travelling companions not carry it for you?” he replied. At this, Pudge and Zon burst out laughing. “The fair lady would not permit us to be in charge of such a precious item,” Corbin stated, “We came upon the site of what had been a fierce battle. The lone survivor entrusted us with this box until we could deliver it to you. I should think that delivery of the box would be of some value to you, dear sir, if you understand my meaning.” “I am heartily grateful for the return of the box, it does hold something of sentimental value for me; my heart aches to think that my courier died while transporting it to me. Let us feast in his memory and to reward our new-found friends for their courage and bravery bringing this to me!” “Besides,” he said in a whisper to Corbin, “the big guy looks like he could eat an entire sheep right now. I do not want to see his bad side!” With that, he took Ophelia by the arm – wait, was she blushing? – and led the party into a large dining hall. What a feast they had! The choicest meats and sweets were set before them. Even Zon had his fill. While they were eating, Thurl gave them a rundown of the cults operating in the area, who he believed to be causing the strange weather patterns. There were the Black Earth, the Crushing Wave, and Scarlet Moonhall.

Suddenly, the door burst open and a sentry ran in breathlessly. “Manticore! It’s on the move!” Thurl jumped up and declared that he would give his ring, a large, fancy ring with a massive ruby in it, to whoever brought back the beast’s head. To Zon’s horror, Thurl’s followers abandoned the feast and went to do battle with the beast. “Still food here!” he shouted after them. “The offer extends to you also, my new friends,” said Thurl as he walked leisurely out of the room. Corbin, never one to pass up the chance at glory, and Ophelia, never one to pass up the chance at something shiny, ran out. Corbin shouted back to the others, “Let’s show these gussied-up knights how it’s done!” “But… food…” said Zon lamely. “Aw, crap. Let’s go after them,” said Pudge dejectedly. The knights fought mounted on hippogriffs, and the Blades Black did their best to control theirs. During the fierce aerial battle, the manticore retreated into a large cavern, followed by knights and the Blades Black. Corbin used repeated attacks with his glaive to bring it down and cut off its head. Amazingly, the knights who were with them in the chamber turned on them! Miradon and Ophelia took two of them down easily with their arrows and daggers, and the others scattered. In a rage, Corbin went back into the tower and accosted Thurl. “Why did your men turn on us, you scumbag?”, he growled. “I don’t know, really I don’t,” stammered Thurl. This was hardly believable. Something intangible was off about this person. Nevertheless, it was late and they agreed to stay in the tower overnight. As they retired for the night, the men bowed low to Ophelia, whispering among themselves as she flashed one of the symbols they’d seen before. It seemed that, during dinner, Ophelia had convinced them that she was part of their cult, but was on a top-secret mission. Secret information like that always makes the rounds quickly! The men were paying far too much attention to Ophelia, and the group was concerned. So, in order to thwart any misdeeds, they separated themselves into two rooms, changing Ophelia from one room to the next to hide her whereabouts. Sure enough, a knock came on the door to the room Ophelia was in; the messenger asking if Corbin could accompany him to Thurl, as the two leaders had much to talk about. Sensing that something fishy was going on, but realizing that noncompliance was not an option, Corbin went. Besides, Corbin couldn’t resist hobnobbing with other leaders. Shortly thereafter, a messenger knocked on the door and asked if Pudge wanted to entertain the men with his magic and tales of their exploits. Again, something fishy was going on, but Pudge had to comply. Besides, Pudge couldn’t resist an audience. Meanwhile, Miradon and Zon secreted Ophelia to the other room, Zon staying with her and Miradon going back to “Ophelia’s” room. A short while later, a messenger knocked on the door looking for Miradon. But the group had had enough. Miradon refused to leave the room, saying that he’d had too many beans at dinner. This was the one time he needed Pudge and his bodily-function noises. That was the end of the midnight interlopers! The rest of the night passed smoothly.

In the morning after they’d taken leave of Thurl and the rest of his men, the group reviewed what had happened and what they had found out. Ophelia had let “slip” that her secret mission involved finding Gar Shatterkeel. Thurl said they didn’t know much about him, but rumour had it he was in big with the Crushing Wave cult and suggested they head to Womford and get a boat up-river to Rivergard Keep. Womford was, in a word, underwhelming. It was small and rundown, although it did have a lively waterfront market next to the Dessarin River. Ophelia, being a sailor, went ahead of the rest and asked the person who seemed to be in charge, and who was apparently green, if she could book passage to Rivergard Keep, a request which was firmly rebuffed. Ophelia, being an observant person as well as a sailor, noticed a symbol on the boxes which were being loaded onto the boat. The symbol was one she hadn’t seen before, it looked like a triangle with a half-triangle on top. Before the green guy could tell her to get lost again, she made her hands into one of the hand signals we’d seen before, hoping that it matched. Quickly, (she was dexterous as well as being observant and a sailor), she made a loose fist and put her thumb through the middle fingers. That got a reaction! The green guy quickly changed his tune and allowed her and her companions to board. The green guy and his crew promised to let them off as close to Rivergard Keep as they could get. The Blades Black quizzed the crew about Rivergard Keep during the journey, and what they’d find there, but they were tight-lipped, letting it known only that Jollivar is the keeper of the Keep. Jollivar! Just the man who stole the pole arm from Corbin’s employer! The stars were aligning as both Ophelia and Corbin could taste victory as they neared their respective quarries.

There was really no way to sneak into the Keep, so they opted for the direct approach. Over the main entrance flew a blue banner with a gauntlet symbol on it, otherwise there were no noticeable signs of occupation by any particular group. Ophelia took the lead and asked to speak to Gar. At the mention of his name, the group was granted admission. Gar, was not there, but Jolliver was. One of the guards went to find out if Jolliver would see them and returned with the news that Jolliver would only see Corbin – alone. Little did they know that being snubbed is one of the (many) things that put Ophelia into a rage. Out came the daggers, and the fight was on. The guards weren’t prepared for the onslaught of the Blades Black and were down before you could say “Zon’s greatsword”! The guards’ uniforms had the same 1.5-triangle symbol on them. “It must be the symbol of the Crushing Wave cult. Oh, there’ll be waves of crushing, all right!” spat Corbin as he laughed fiercely, “Let’s go find Jolliver!” “Me no get joke,” whispered Zon to Pudge.

They found Jolliver and what could be described as “his men” inside what probably had been a grand hall. As the Blades Black entered, Jolliver turns to Corbin and said, “Ah, Corbin Blackblade. I heard you’d been looking for me. Rumour has it you’ve been offered 10,000 pieces of gold to bring me back alive!” At this he laughed a humourless laugh, and his men all followed suit. “I see you’ve brought your men… and woman… with you. Hey girl, what are you doing with this loser? Come with me and see what a real man…” The rest of his sentence was left unfinished as one of Ophelia’s daggers caught him in the shoulder and pinned him to the wall. “You’re losing your touch, Ophelia,” said Miradon. “No, I just want my share of the 10,000 gold pieces!” she replied. When Jolliver’s men recovered from their shock at Ophelia’s attack on their leader, they pulled out their swords and ran towards the group. In the fighting that ensued, Jolliver slipped out the back. Left alone (well, except for a number of dead bodies) in the grand hall, they had time to explore the room and take any treasure they found around and on the bodies. Among the treasure was a wand, which Ophelia threw to Pudge, saying, “You’re the magic guy – attune to that when you have a chance.” “Uh, sure. Right,” Pudge stammered. On a ramshackle desk in the corner they found a note scribbled in extremely messy handwriting. They could make out that it came from someone warning Jolliver of the Blades Black and saying that Kaylessa was sticking her nose into cult business. It would go very poorly for her if she continued to do so. As they read the note, more guards entered the room, ready to take down the intruders. But it was they who were taken down in short order, except for one who was captured and made to spill the beans. There didn’t seem to be much love for Jolliver or the cult; he was more a mercenary or ordinary bandit than a true cultist. He told them of the glorious imminent arrival of Olhydra for which the cultists were preparing, but they had to get rid of the other cults first. In order to keep track of the other cults, Jolliver has a spy in Red Larch, but he doesn’t know who that is. “Where he go?” asked Zon of the prisoner in a menacing tone. “He? You mean Jolliver? I’m not certain, but he hides out in a monastery when not at Rivergard Keep,” came the cautious reply. “How did Jolliver leave this room?” asked Pudge in a slightly more civilized tone than Zon’s. “There’s a secret door behind his chair, over there in the corner. It leads to the river. He probably snuck out that way,” he replied. The Blades Black left the guard alive, as a warning to others who underestimate them, in addition to their feeling that he wasn’t exactly a loyal cultist, and went through the secret door. It led to a set of stairs and down to a boat launch. There was a rowboat there, which they took and rowed as fast as possible in order to catch up with Jolliver, assuming they were going in the right direction, that is! A couple hundred yards away, they spied a rowboat which was recently used. It must be Jolliver’s, but they couldn’t see him or manage to track him. They decided to keep going downriver until they reached the Stone Bridge and, frustrated, walked to Beliard to see what information they could gather there.

Where else do you go to find information, but the pub? Beliard is very small and has only one pub, attached to the Watchful Knight Inn, so they entered, being stared at, as usual. It had been a long day and they were all tired and hungry. Zon was hungry. “What you stare at?” he challenged a man with glassed-over eyes. “Uh, let’s just sit over here, Zon,” said Pudge as he steered him to a booth in the back and away from the blind man. Not disappointingly, they are soon approached by a rough-looking man who said, “I hear you’re the Blades Black. That true?” “The truth of that should have been apparent when we walked into the room! The stories of our exploits have doubtlessly preceded us!” crowed Corbin. “Be that as it may, sir, Beliard’s a peaceful town, due in large part to the number of us former “businessmen” who reside here. We intend to keep it that way, if you get my drift,” he replied. “The best way to keep your town safe from the cultists is to answer a few questions we have,” said Miradon in a calm but authoritative voice, “We seek the men known as Jolliver Grimjaw and Gar Shatterkeel. We understand Jolliver holes up in a nearby monastery at times.” “Well, I can’t say I know this Gar fellow, but I have heard of Jolliver, and know of the monastery, it’s called the Sacred Stone Monastery,” the man said. “I’m also looking for a friend, a dwarf, who had been part of the delegation from Mirabar. Did the delegation pass through here?”, Miradon queried. “Ah yes, the delegation. There was a dwarf in the party as well. Strange story, that. The delegation passed through here and started heading towards Summit Hall. Then, they just vanished. Nobody’s seen or heard from them since.”

Since Summit Hall wasn’t too far from Beliard, the group decided to head there in the morning. They secured rooms in the Watchful Knight to get a good night’s rest before heading out. When Ophelia was finally asleep in their shared room, Pudge turned his attention to the wand. It was rather ordinary-looking, except for the symbols carved down the side. He couldn’t make heads or tails of them. He stared at it for a long time. And stared. And stared. ““Attune to it”, she said”, he muttered to himself, “What the blazes does that mean?” Just as he was beginning to doze, he thought he saw the wand shimmer. Nah, must be his imagination. “I’m going to call it the Wand of Wonder,” he thought as he stowed it in his rucksack, “as in, I wonder if it’s really just a stick.”

The next morning, as they walked out of Beliard, they could sense they were being followed. So, Miradon and Ophelia snuck back along the sides of the trail to find out who it might be. About a hundred paces back, they spotted three men trying to appear as if they were just out for a pleasant walk. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” hissed Ophelia to Miradon, “It’s those jokers from the boat!” “Yes,” whispered Miradon, “But there are only three of them. Remember that Corbin met them as well and took care of the fourth. Pudge bumped into them too, on The Long Road.” “They aren’t worth our time,” whispered back Ophelia, “Let’s just tell the others to keep going.” They snuck back to the others and were just about to continue when the three men caught up to them. “Halt! I am Woenarth, of the Bringers of Woe! I am here to bring you outlaws, the Blades Black, to face the crimes you committed against the Bringers of Woe in Red Larch! Plus, there’s a price on your heads…” said the one who looked like the leader. He was just as greasy as he had been before he was accepted into the Bringers of Woe. It seemed to be a condition of entry into the gang, in fact. Thinking just to scare of this pack of losers into running away, Pudge drew the Wand of Wonder out of his rucksack, while yelling “Wand of Wonder!” for dramatic effect. As he pointed it at the trio, a huge fireball erupted from the end of the wand. After that came mayhem. The Bringers were burnt to a crisp. All the Blades Black were hurt to some degree, and Miradon went down. Pudge had obliterated his enemies and almost killed himself and his friends! Wand of Wonder, indeed! Luckily, Corbin had a potion of healing which kept Miradon from actually dying, and Zon had enough strength to carry him back to the Watchful Knight. As they came back into town, attracting even more disbelieving stares than they had when they’d arrived the day before, they met up with the man from the pub. “The pieces of charcoal on the road are what’s left of the Bringers of Woe,” growled Corbin, “Let it be known that anyone who tries to ambush us like that will be similarly treated.”

After they’d rested, they asked the owner if the ill-fated Bringers of Woe had a room in the inn they could see. The owner was only too glad to let the celebrated Blades Black do what they would with the personal effects of the Bringers of Woe, especially since they wouldn’t be needing them anymore. They didn’t find much. One toothbrush with one bristle, and two books: “How to Intimidate and Influence People” and “Mullets Made Easy”. They also found a letter to the late Bringers of Woe from their leaders (which was funny because they don’t have leaders, but anyway) telling them to follow them and a map which included the location of the Sacred Stone Monastery. Revitalized by the rest and this new knowledge, the Blades Black went back to the boat they’d left at the Stone Bridge and headed upriver as the monastery was beyond Rivergard Keep and inland. It was a fine day for travel on the river. Not much wind, the sun dancing off the waves, the gentle rocking of the boat, the strange movement in the water at the back of the boat... the strange movement in the water at the back of the boat? Suddenly, the whole boat was tipped forward as a sea troll grabbed the front and started to pull downward. Corbin and Ophelia were in the front of the boat and, with Miradon launching arrows at it from mid-ship, hacked and slashed at it with pole arms and daggers. Pudge and Zon couldn’t get to the front of the boat to help, which turned out for the best as a second sea troll rose up out of the river, heading for the boat. It was big, smelly and ugly. Given the success he had with the Wand of Wonder on the Bringers of Woe, Pudge pulled it out, aimed, and… a bunch of leaves sprouted from its head. No doubt mortally embarrassed by its new hairdo, the sea troll sank back under the waves and was gone. Seeing the devastation wrought on its companion, the first sea troll also sank under the waves and was gone.

It was a good thing they were near the landing which led them through the forest to the monastery. The stone walls were high, with narrow passages between them. The gang snuck down one passage and found that it opened to a natural amphitheater. Inside the building and down the hallway, they could hear sounds of combat training and tried to sneak around the room without being noticed. As it happened, not all of their group were good at sneaking and minding their own business. Corbin looked into the room and shouted, “You call that fighting? What a bunch of wimps! I could take you with one hand tied behind my back!” At this, the woman who was apparently in charge of the training, grabbed him and twisted his hand behind his back. Fortunately for him, he was wearing the Earth Cult armor he’d taken from the dead man in the sinkhole and her chop to the neck was ineffectual. “Now’s a good time to put into practice what you’ve been learning,” she told her students, who started to pummel him. Seeing that Corbin was not in a position to win this fight, the rest of the Blades Black stood around in the hallway for awhile and checked out a couple more doors. Eventually, they stormed the room and took out the trainer and the trainees. Miradon took a ring and necklace with 2 keys from the trainer (no word as to how Ophelia felt about this). When they returned to the corridor, the group found a number of monks had heard the commotion and came to investigate. The monks were wearing masks which led Corbin to believe that they were in an Earth Cult temple. This realization didn’t prevent a fight which ended in the death of the monks. Most of the group took the masks in order to blend in, except for Corbin, who thought that the mask clashed with his armour. They were Sacred Stone Monks. Ophelia, as usual, searched them for treasure and found an axe of throwing. They snuck around the corridors a little more successfully this time and, like the cohesive group they were, went in three different directions. Ophelia turned right and down the corridor into a courtyard, with Miradon following her. She seemed to be pulled there as if in a trance. It was a strange courtyard, with tall stone statues in grotesque forms and abandoned carts at the far end. As they approached the carts, the statues came alive and attacked! They were tough to beat, and Ophelia and Miradon suffered grievous injuries as a result. One of the carts, fortunately, had welcome healing potions in it. Going through the cart, they found the oddest assortment of items – potions and books written by someone named “Gio”. Once the transportable items had been pocketed by Ophelia and Miradon, they returned inside to join the rest of the Blades Black. When they came back inside, they saw a concerning sight. Pudge had turned left and had been trapped down the other corridor by a huge ogre. As Ophelia and Miradon ran to help, a clearly frightened Pudge pulled out his Wand of Wonder yet again, hoping against hope that it did something useful and he wouldn’t end up as ogre breakfast. The Wand of Wonder didn’t disappoint in the “wonder” department as it sprayed gems all over the ogre. While not dealing a deadly blow, it stopped the ogre long enough for Ophelia and Miradon to come to Pudge’s aid. As an added bonus, Pudge picked up the gems after the ogre was taken care of.

Corbin and Zon had come across a room which looked like it was used for sacrifices and other rituals, judging by the altar. But wait! Who is in front of the altar at that very moment? Jolliver! Incensed, Corbin rushed forward, intent on capturing him at last. But it was not to be. Any attacks on him by Corbin and Zon were repelled by a shield which floated in the air, and his priest kept the rest of the group busy. When it seemed that Corbin was about to get close enough to hit him with his glaive, Jolliver turned into a puff of smoke and slipped out down the stairs. “Wow!” exclaimed Pudge, “He looked just like a cotton ball!” The other three looked at him sideways. With Jolliver gone, the group was able to defeat the priest and capture him before he got away. Ophelia had a chance to show off the axe she’d purloined from one of the monks. It was magnificent it came right back to her hand after being thrown (although not when impaled in some unlucky creature, presumably). “Wow!” exclaimed Pudge, “Just like a boomerang!” The other three looked at him sideways. The priest wasn’t very forthcoming with information, so Zon threw him over his shoulder, in case he changed his mind. Just as they were going to follow Jolliver, a voice boomed throughout the room, “Hey! You should see if there’s some loot!” “What was that?” they asked each other. “Well, we should see what’s here,” said Ophelia. “No! What if it’s a trap! A prerecorded message from Jolliver?” exclaimed Corbin. They looked at each other in bewilderment. In the end, they decided the disembodied voice was likely benevolent and searched the room. Ophelia pocketed some choice gems and jewellery. Miradon picked up the magic shield which had dropped when Jolliver shifted from his corporeal form. That done, down the stairs they went. “Do I really have to be carried by this big oaf?” he complained, “He smells.” “Zon not smell bad!” replied Zon as he shifted the priest rather ignominiously from one shoulder to the other. At the bottom of the stairs was a cage with a large beast in it. It looked large and scary but Jolliver’s priest assured them that it could not get out unless the lever against the far wall was pressed. If it did get out, however, no one would survive the attack. “Ha! Nobody and nothing beats the Blades Black!” shouted Corbin as he moved towards the lever. “No! For pity’s sake, no!” screamed the priest. “Oh, come on Corbin, we don’t have time for goofing around,” said Miradon, so they moved on. Further on down the corridor, they came to a large room with sarcophagi around the edges. “Smell bad here,” stated Zon as he looked at the priest, “Like dead people. Not like orc. Orc no smell bad.” They soon found out the source of the bad smell – zombies! While zombies aren’t hard to take down, they are very hard to kill, being already dead and with body parts which don’t seem to need to stay intact in order to move. While the group dodged random severed arms and legs trying to catch them, they managed to hack the zombies into small enough pieces that even the zombies couldn’t have identified their own parts.

As they looked around to ensure there weren’t any more zombies poised to attack, they noticed the largest sarcophagus, which read, “Samular Caradoon, Defender of the North”. Miradon asked the priest who Samular Caradoon was, but the only reply he got was that they were no longer in Black Earth Cult territory and they should go. The guy looked genuinely terrified. The Blades Black were not terrified. Perhaps this was confidence. Perhaps this was ignorance. It really didn’t matter. Going further along the corridor, they came to a t-intersection. They decided to go left and up the stairs. “Get lost!” they heard as they came near, “If you come any closer, I’m going to set this whole chamber on fire!” They looked at each other in bewilderment. “Grumpy,” said Zon, “is hungry.” With nods all around, the gang backed out and down the right corridor instead. It seemed that neither way was the right one, as this hallway contained a huge ogre, ready to do battle. “He hungry too,” said Zon reasonably. In response, the ogre took a swipe at Corbin. Even though Zon understood the concept of hangry, it didn’t stop him from doing battle with the ogre when his friends were in danger. He pulled out his shortswords and went into a rage. With a deafening battle cry, he lit into the ogre, slashing at his oversized bulk. Corbin, ticked off at the ogre for swiping at him, jumped into the fray, dealing blows with his pole arm. A couple of well-aimed arrows from Miradon and the ogre dropped with a mighty crash.

Once the ogre was out of the way, the Blades Black could see down the hallway to a set of cages. In the cages were various creatures, tired-looking, thin and frail. They had obviously been there for awhile and were grateful to be released. They pointed to another set of cages down the hall and the Blades Black released them as well. They were all quite disoriented and had no idea how long they’d been there, or why they had been grabbed and forced into servitude. “We were on our way from Mirabar and were attacked by members of the water cult just after we left Beliard. In fact, we’re not quite sure where we are,” said a dwarf. “Wait! You’re the political delegation from Mirabar? You went missing a few weeks ago!” said Miradon excitedly, “Are you Bruldenthar?” “Yes, I am. How do you know my name?” Bruldenthar queried. “I’ve been looking for you! You and my father had been good friends, before he passed away,” replied Miradon. “Little Miry? Is that you?” asked Bruldenthar. Miradon blushed all the way up his pointy ears. “I hate to break up this little family reunion, guys, but let’s get out of here,” said Corbin. “And leave Jolliver’s priest here,” he added, “He’ll find out what it’s like to be a prisoner.”

They walked out of the dungeons through the courtyard where Ophelia and Miradon had fought the statues. “My cart!” exclaimed one of the former prisoners. It was the cart where Ophelia and Miradon had found the healing potions. “I can’t believe it! All the ingredients of my craft are in it! Some of it is missing; I guess I should be happy that the cultists didn’t take it all, I suppose. My name is Gio,” he explained, “I am the premier potion-maker in all the Dessarin Valley if I do say so myself. To reward you for setting us free, I bestow unto you these potions.” He gave the Blades Black a number of potions – healing, water breathing, fire breath and moon juice. “I also have a cloak of protection, which should be about the right size for you, young man,” he told Pudge. Pudge was ecstatic – it was in Yale blue! He put it on and instantly felt more powerful. “One more thing before I take my leave,” Gio continued, “Do not purchase potions from Uncle Baggy. His potions are crap. Until we meet again!” And off he went.

Now that they were free of Gio, Miradon and Bruldenthar were free to exchange information. Miradon explained how he was tasked by Vandria to find the lost dwarven city of Tyar-Besil. The city is connected somehow to the evil which had so long ensnared his best friend, Mobroc, and others. She had counselled him to consult Bruldenthar, who had the most knowledge regarding Tyar-Besil of any creature still living. On hearing this, Bruldenthar was distressed. The cultists had taken his books. He had no idea where they were now. Ophelia pulled out the book they’d been given by the man in Red Larch, which no one could read. “Oh!” exclaimed Bruldenthar, “Architecture of Tyar-Besil! This is the oldest and most valuable of them all! Where did you get it?” Ophelia explained that the man in Red Larch had purchased it in Womford because it looked interesting. The Blades Black hadn’t come across any more of the books in their travels. “So, Mr. Know-it-all,” said Ophelia, “I’m looking for a man named Gar Shatterkeel. Know him?” “I know OF him,” replied Bruldenthar, “They call him ‘Gar the Prophet’. He has killed many dwarves. A bad, bad man. He reputedly hangs out with Shoalar Quanderil. He may, in fact, have some of my books.” The group decided it was time to head back to Red Larch – they still hadn’t warned Kaylessa of the spy and could see if there was any other information she had.

They set off down Larch Path toward Red Larch, with Bruldenthar going along. Not only did he want to see if there were any of his books in Red Larch, he was also feeling the need for some protection. “Not to worry,” stated Corbin, “You will be perfectly safe while in the company of the celebrated Blades Black!” “Is he always like that? It’s very pompous”, Bruldenthar asked Miradon under his breath. “I’m afraid so,” he replied. As they walked along, Pudge passed the time in the usual way, with animal flatulence noises and his mage hand playing small tricks. Zon was particularly amused and laughed heartily. “Are they always like that? It’s very childish,” Bruldenthar asked Miradon and Corbin. “I’m afraid so,” Miradon replied. “To be fair,” said Corbin, “Pudge has come a long way. When we first met, he was very timid. He’d even faint when things got a little hairy. Now he’ll get right in the fight like nobody’s business!” “That’s true,” interjected Miradon, “Plus, he has the (dubious) comfort of the Wand of Wonder.” “He has the Wand of Wonder?” mused Bruldenthal, “It’s a very powerful weapon, and should only be wielded by the most experienced of sorcerers.” “Ha!” exclaimed Corbin, “He certainly isn’t experienced! Remember the time he torched the Bringers of Woe with a fireball and almost killed you, Miradon? Good thing I had a healing potion and Zon had the strength to carry you back to the inn! The Bringers of Woe were nothing but ash!” “Yes, hilarious,” said Miradon mirthlessly, “Of course, he also thinks he’s from some other realm, called “America”, and that he’s in a dream. That might also give him some reason to be courageous.” “The Bringers of Woe, eh? What a sorry bunch of losers they are!” exclaimed Bruldenthar.

Soon Ophelia was complaining that she needed a drink, and were there no taverns on this goddess forsaken road? She spied a small cottage and went over to it. At her knock, a woman answered the door, with three small children clinging to her skirts. “Excuse me, ma’am,” said Ophelia, holding up a gold piece, “might you have some rum you could sell me? I’m parched.” The woman’s eyes widened, and she went inside the cottage to see what they had. In the meantime, the children seemed to overcome their shyness and started to giggle as they looked over Ophelia’s shoulder. Ophelia swung around to see Pudge’s mage hand hovering behind her, making rude gestures. After throwing a menacing look at Pudge, she turned back to the children and crouched down. She reached into her pocket and pulled out three silver pieces and gave one to each, putting her finger to her lips. “Don’t tell your mom,” she enjoined. The woman came back with a jug of rum. “This is all my husband has,” she said, “Although we’re poor, we’re honest folk. It’s not nearly worth a gold piece.” “Here. Take three then,” Ophelia said as she brought two more pieces out of her pocket and forced them into the woman’s hand. As they walked away, Corbin turned back and said loudly, “You can thank the Blades Black for this largesse!” “Is she always like that? It’s very confusing,” Bruldenthar asked Miradon under his breath. “Drinking? I’m afraid so. Philanthropic? I’m afraid not.” was the reply.

Red Larch Path was a well-used road, but the group noticed that it seemed to be busier than usual. There were a lot of tracks going in the direction of Red Larch, and not just foot traffic. There was evidence of many horses and other beasts of burden, and deep ruts made by heavy carts. They were walking at a quick pace and could see some figures sauntering ahead. Miradon snuck ahead to check them out and returned with the information that they were three human druids, a little overly friendly, who asked him if he was also on his way to the Rite of the Wicker Giant. They advised him to turn south at the elms at Wendell Rock. The Rite of the Wicker Giant was being organized by Elizar Dryflagon, a great druid from the north whose mission was to restore calmness to the region. They didn’t know much more than that and didn’t seem perturbed that they hadn’t ever heard of him before. Not that Miradon was surprised that they seemed a couple bricks short of a load – they belonged to the Bringers of Woe, who apparently were increasing in number and strength.

Just as they entered Red Larch, Ophelia turned to Pudge and said, “OK, time to go shopping.” “What? What for?” asked a bewildered Pudge. “If I have to look at those clothes for even one more day, I’m gonna puke. Besides, you have your snazzy new cloak in “Yale blue”, whatever that is. Let’s go,” was the reply. And so, Ophelia led the way to the shops. Pudge was excited to go to the seamstress and have her embroider a ‘Y’ on the back of the cloak. They also bought him some iron-red trousers and shirt. “Remind me to tell you the joke about the pirate and the red pants later,” Ophelia had said. As they passed a dingy shop at the end of the row, Pudge’s attention was caught by a glint of shimmery green. “Wait!” he told Ophelia, “I want to go in that shop.” “There’s nothing there,” protested Ophelia. “Yes, there is! Look closely,” he replied. As she peered in, she could barely make out a bit of green. “Fine, whatever,” she said resignedly. They went into the shop, which seemed to be devoid of all merchandise except the boots. “Hmmm,” said Ophelia, “They appear to be made of dragon scales.” “Of course they’re dragon, anyone can see that!” they heard from behind them. They spun around to see an old and grumpy-looking dwarf. “How much are they?” asked Pudge. “Forget it, they’ll be much too expensive,” said Ophelia. “Expensive they are, but even more to the point, they can only be sold to the right person,” said the shopkeeper. “Who is the right person?” asked Pudge a little dejectedly. “Someone who has killed a dragon!” the dwarf said breathlessly. “Oh. Well. I don’t think I’ll ever kill a dragon,” said Pudge as he held up his hands to show the scales, “I’m dragon-born and, besides, I hear that dragons are impossible to kill anyway.” Pudge and Ophelia walked out of the shop.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group went to see Kaylessa at the Swinging Sword Inn. As they made their way through town, they noticed a lot of strangers acting strangely, as strangers tend to do. The irony of the fact that not long ago they were strangers in Red Larch escaped them. Kaylessa was, as usual, full of news. The strangers acting strangely called themselves the Prophets of Peace and they had installed a giant box in the middle of town to cleanse the curse of the land. It certainly seemed to be working, as the weather had been calmer since they brought it. The Blades Black went back to the town square and took a look at the box. There was a glowing ball inside it. Sensing this was not benign, they went back to the Inn and asked to have a private room. Once there, they wished to speak with Kaylessa where they wouldn’t be overheard. Kaylessa sent her servant-girl, Ghileeda, down to the pub to bring up some food and drink. She came back with the drinks and seemed to hang around for no reason, which was unlike any of Kaylessa’s employees. Corbin pulled the note from his sack that the Blades Black had found stating that Kaylessa was sticking her nose in too far and that there was a spy in Red Larch. The note, plus Ghileeda’s odd behaviour made the Blades Black wonder if Ghileeda was the spy. She certainly would have the ability to overhear all the talk of the town while waiting tables. Kaylessa herself had noticed a change in the girl’s behaviour of late, but she couldn’t believe that Ghileeda was a spy. Her father, after all, was Iraun Thelder, the stable master, an upstanding Red Larchian whose family went back generations.

After some discussion, it was decided that Bruldenthar should go back to Mirabar and find out all he can about Tyar-Besil. Kaylessa was not aware of any more dwarven books floating around, but would send any to him there that she came across. It was also decided to rule Ghileeda out as the spy to put their minds at ease as they stayed at the inn. Ghileeda came back with the food and, after she left, Miradon started down the stairs after her. She went into the kitchen as expected, but continued out the back door. He followed as she went to the town square and knelt in front of the box, crying. After saying some words which Miradon couldn’t hear, but sounded ritualistic, she opened the box. At once there was an explosion from inside the box. Ghileeda was thrown back, dead. Miradon was also close enough to be hit by shrapnel from the box. He’d had just enough time to see that there was an orb inside which appeared to set off the explosion. At the sound of the explosion, the townsfolk and the Blades Black rushed into the town square. The skies blackened and a twisting, tornado-like wind engulfed the town. Incredibly, two creatures formed out of the swirling wind. The wind was just dense enough to give them an outline and movement. And that movement was threatening! The wind creatures moved about the town square, picking up barrels and smashing them against buildings.

“Everybody back!” shouted Corbin as he worked to corral the townsfolk out of the town square and down the lanes to safer ground. In the process, he was separated from the rest of the Blades Black. Further, he had rushed out of the room without his weapons. As he tried to skirt around the creatures, who were being distracted by the rest of the group’s efforts to fight them, and get up to the second floor to his room which held his glaive, a sudden sound – whoosh! boom!” - filled the air, as did most of the second floor of the inn. A hill giant had materialized out of the sky and had landed on the inn, right where his room used to be. Corbin was trapped in the back of the pub, with no way to get to his weapons and no way out. Was this the end? He shouted at the rest of the group, but they were too busy, each fighting their own battles. “Damn!” he muttered to himself, “If we get out of this alive, I’m going to have to show them what teamwork is!” Finally, the Blades Black were able to subdue the wind creatures, who dissipated as rapidly as they’d formed. The hill giant was set-upon by Zon and Miradon and, thankfully, taken down before he could do fatal damage to Corbin. In the melee, most of the town square had been ripped to pieces, as had the inn, with most of the second floor gone.

They limped back to the inn and retrieved what belongings they could. Some of them were in the room, and some had to be dug out from beneath the body of the hill giant. Corbin was in a foul mood. Nobody cared. Kaylessa was beside herself; her beautiful inn had been basically reduced to a pile of rubble, and one of her most trusted barmaids had proven herself to be part of the air cult. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the box was placed in Red Larch and the Rite of the Wicker Giant was to be held nearby. “Please, Blades Black,” Kaylessa cried, “find out what’s going on and put a stop to this insanity!” Thus, it was decided that they would see what the Rite was all about. On their way out of town, Ophelia gave Kaylessa 50 gold pieces to restore the inn and the town square. It was a good thing that the Bringers of Woe told them to turn south at the elms at Wendell Rock, so it didn’t take long for them to get there.

The scene that greeted them was more like that of a festival. Many groups had set up tents and started campfires. There were a number of small stages around the perimeter, with a large stage at the far end. As they walked past, some people greeted them in a friendly manner, as had the Bringers of Woe, while others looked at them with suspicion. They came upon some druids who’d obviously had a few flagons of ale. “Come, friends, join us as we wait to be picked to partake in the ritual!” they said. They chatted with the druids, to get the lay of the land. In typical Blades Black fashion, Ophelia wandered off by herself and got in an argument with a lady in one of the other camps. Corbin and Pudge left to do some scouting around. Miradon saw some shifty-looking people who might be part of a cult (as opposed to these wannabees) and went to check them out. He started up a conversation easily enough, but soon they started to become argumentative and act strangely. Suddenly, the woman, who appeared to be the leader and one of the men took off at a run. There seemed to be an altercation in front of the wicker giant. Miradon, who was already thinking they were shifty, and didn’t hear what was going on outside, assumed that they were running from him, drank a potion of speed and caught up to them. He tackled the man from behind and knocked him out. The woman was faster, so he threw a dagger into her shoulder to stop her and tied her up. He was preparing to interrogate her when he was interrupted by Corbin shouting, “Who left Zon alone?” As he looked up, he found Zon standing in front of a huge burning straw giant, and a few surly guards blocking his way forward. “Me want to see! Why you no let me?” Zon was saying in an exasperated tone. “Get back or we’ll run you through!” they menaced. Miradon began to run towards Zon and the guards, and saw the others running from different directions. “Aaagh!” shouted Zon, as he drew his axe and started swinging. He sliced the first guard right in two, such was the force of his rage. The guards struck back and threatened to knock Zon down, but a couple well-placed daggers from Ophelia and a blast of cold from Pudge stopped them in their tracks. “I… you… left him alone… urghhh!” stammered Corbin. He was so mad at the rest of the group for having left Zon alone. “Damn!” he muttered to himself, “I’m seriously going to have to show them what teamwork is!”

Miradon went back to the woman he’d left tied up on the path. Apparently, no one was concerned enough about her to have come to her aid. He took the gag out of her mouth and threatened her with her life if she didn’t answer his questions. “You fool,” she spat at him, “Do you really not know what is going on here? Elizer Dryflagon organized this as a recruiting drive for the Immortal Imix. We are the Followers of the Eternal Flame.” “Who is Aerisi? Who is Yan-C-Bin?” demanded Miradon. “Do you not know anything? Aerisi is the prophetess from the Howling Hatred, and Yan-C-Bin is the elemental god of the air cult,” was the reply. The other Blades Black had arrived at the scene by this time. “How many cults are there in this valley?” muttered Corbin to himself, “In addition to these Howling Hatreds and air cults, we also have Jolliver from the water cult.” “Are you all fools?” she said, “Jolliver is an agent for the fire god. He’s infiltrated the water cult!” “Oh, I get it now,” said Miradon, “There are four cults, one each for the four elements of earth, fire, wind and air.” “Your mother must be so proud of you,” she hissed. That was too much for Miradon – he slit her throat.

The man had woken up shortly before Miradon dispatched the woman and Zon had tied him up. Miradon turned his attention to him. “Who are you, and what is the real reason for the Rite of the Wicker Giant?” questioned Miradon. The man looked at his companion and, with a shaky voice, replied, “My name is Orm. I’m from Sember, which is a nation east of here. To tell the truth, I didn’t know my companions very well. I’m a Follower of the Eternal Flame, like she is, I mean, was. But I’m not serious, really. It was just a way to get in with a cult. They’re all a bit nuts, actually. This Aerisi they follow isn’t even a prophetess. She’s just an elf with wings and a delusion. She thinks that she can create a supreme magical weapon she calls Windvane.” Pudge cast a spell, Detect Thoughts, on Orm to see if he was telling the truth. His probing into Orm’s mind revealed that Orm was telling the truth, and also worried that Miradon would cut him down like he did his companion. Miradon was satisfied. “So, when you’re hanging out with your cult friends, where do you go?” Miradon asked. “A place called Tyar-Besil. Some old dwarf place. We have some old dwarven books back at our camp that we’ve been charged with bringing back to Tyar-Besil with us, not that any of us can read any of it,” he said. “Bruldenthar’s books!” exclaimed Miradon. The Blades Black went back to the camp and retrieved the books. Because Orm had been truthful, and had some knowledge of Tyar-Besil, they decided to invite him back to Red Larch with them to deliver the books to Bruldenthar.

It's a good thing the trip back to Red Larch wasn’t far. Corbin was in a bad mood the entire way. Not caring, Pudge & Zon continued to have fun with the mage hand. As they approached Red Larch, the heat intensified. This was no ordinary heat, though. It was unnatural. “This started to happen just after you left,” revealed Kaylessa, “It’s relentless! Here. Someone delivered a note for you.” She gave the note to Corbin, as the de facto leader of the group. He read it aloud,

Greetings Idits,
We have taken your preshous leader hostaged and if you want her back, come and see us at the Wink and Kiss (that’s a tavern) befor the next full moon and bring 10000 pieces of gold pieces and we are not afraid of you and come unarmed or else. And she has your stuff. If you are cowards and done come we will murder her.
Bringers of Woe.

“Corbin leader,” said Zon. “Right you are, Zon!” stated Corbin importantly, “I wonder who they do have. Plus, the Wink & Kiss is in Yartar, not Red Larch. What a bunch of morons! Kaylessa, is there anyone from the town missing who they might have mistaken for our leader?” “None,” she replied, “One more thing, Bruldenthar is here, but doesn’t come out of his room. He’s surrounded by books. Actually, there are so many books, maybe he can’t come out… I should check on that…” Miradon said, “We found some more books, if you can deliver them to him the next time he asks for food.”

The group sat down in the pub for some ale and burnt crumblecake, as usual. “Wow! You’ve really fixed it up in a short amount of time!” said Pudge, “And I sure am glad you haven’t stopped making this delicious crumblecake!” “Oh, you sweet boy!” Kaylessa purred as she pinched his cheeks. For once, all was quiet and the group thought they’d have the chance to enjoy the town a little. But Corbin apparently had other ideas. After disappearing briefly, he reappeared in the courtyard wearing nothing but a loincloth, slathered in oil from head to foot and carrying some weapons. He strutted out, with the obvious intention of getting attention. And attention he got. Men, women and children alike were dumbstruck. Only the Blades Black, who were getting used to Corbin’s, um, eccentricities, took it in stride. Not that they were happy about it. “What now?” shouted Ophelia in his general direction, “Can we not leave this town unscathed for once?” Miradon and Pudge just put their heads in their hands. “I am here to put on a demonstration for the town,” he replied coolly, “of how a fight is won.” He had set up some practice dummies in the town square and proceeded to demonstrate his prowess with the pole arm. He went through a series of attacks on the dummies: thrusts, parries, precision attacks, push attacks, and some weird jumping-spinning-twisting-weapons-flying attacks. He was obviously getting lost in the showmanship he had perfected in the pits instead of giving a demonstration. Finally, he stopped and looked around at the amazed crowd. “Zon, help me show the townsfolk how a real fight would look!” he cried. “No fight with no clothes!” exclaimed Zon, horrified. “You don’t have to take off your clothes, Zon, don’t worry,” reassured Corbin. “Me ok no clothes, you not ok!” sputtered Zon, “You greasy too!” “Come on, Zon, show him how it’s done,” enjoined Ophelia. “Ok, but me no touch him,” responded Zon. And so, Zon took his greatsword and met Corbin in the middle of the town square. “Now, what do you do if one of us were attacked like this?” asked Corbin as he lunged at Zon. Zon deftly swiped the feet out from under Corbin and pushed him into a stack of barrels. “No, no!” shouted Corbin, “You don’t get it! If one of your friends was attacked! What about this, now?” He lunged at Zon again. Perplexed, Zon threw out his large hands and, taking Corbin by the shoulders, threw him across the town square and into a table. Corbin was now becoming visibly frustrated, although it was unclear if he was angry at Zon, or himself. He pointed to the sparring dummies and shouted, “Come on, then! Let’s use some real weapons like men!” “I not a man,” stated a perplexed Zon. Corbin picked up his glaive, readying for a real attack. But Zon was quicker and bashed him with his greatsword. Corbin readied his glaive in an impressive manner, twisting it around his body and over his head, whipping it so fast that the head sang as it rent the air and backed into a gladiator stance to wait for Zon to approach. Zon charged in. Corbin’s lightning reflexes kicked in, striking out with his glaive, but Zon sent him flying into the crowd, unconscious. As Zon calmly walked away, Ophelia bellowed, “Hey! Watch my beer!” as it spilled on Corbin. The beer helped Corbin regain consciousness and, getting up, Corbin walked away, shaking his head and muttering something about teamwork. “What was that all about?” asked Miradon. “I’m not sure, but I may have a vague idea. Something to do with football,” replied Pudge. He looked thoughtful for the rest of the afternoon.

After the demonstration, or whatever that was, the group headed back to the bar and their drinks. Shortly after, both Zon and Miradon fell into a dead faint. Cautiously, Pudge sniffed his drink and realized that there was something wrong with it. Somebody slipped something into the drinks while everyone’s attention was on the goings-on in the town square! It didn’t take much imagination to think that the Blades Black were garnering enemies as well as followers, but who did it and why? Fortunately, the demonstration had attracted everyone in town, including the priestess Lymmura, who was able to heal them by laying her hands on them and humming a soft chant. Meanwhile, Ophelia strongarmed the waitress into revealing who had poured the drinks that had been sent to the Blades Black table. It was Justran Dale, who usually worked in the stables, but was pressed into bar service on a semi-regular basis. The group went to the stables, but found no one there. There was only a note from a person named Windharrow:

Justran,

Jollivar has betrayed Aerisi and blasphemed Yan-C-Bin. He has taken the weapon’s shaft and converted it into some heinous weapon to serve his own purposes.

Divination’s suggest Jollivar may be traveling north along the Dessarin River, and any of the Zhentarium, Harpers and Blades Black are still somehow expected to attempt interference. Know that he is a shape changer and will be unlikely to appear as himself. Look for Windvane’s shaft. It is 7-8’ in length and black in color with grey streaks.

THIS IS A PRIORITY
Windharrow

Finally, they were back on the trail of Jollivar. And Bruldenthar finally made it out of his room. It was a good thing that Kaylessa went up to see if he was actually trapped in there by his mountain of books… Bruldenthar had found where the entrance to Tyar-Besil was located. The Blades Black decided to head there the next morning and they each went to their rooms.

After a long and stressful day (she almost lost her beer, after all!), Ophelia gratefully sank onto her bed. Before long, however, a strange sound came from outside her door. As she got up to investigate, a blinding flash of light comes under the door and a lightning bolt zaps the far wall. Then fizzles out. This is not a normal action for lightning bolts, even ones which go underneath doors. As she ran from the room, another lightning bolt whizzed by her head. Not one to run away, Ophelia stopped and wheeled around to find that a cyclops had appeared in the room. It was big and ugly and smelly and definitely needed to be taken care of. Then, with loud bangs, two more appeared. The commotion attracted the attention of the rest of the Blades Black and, of course, everyone else in the inn. Fortunately, while cyclops are large and strong, they’re not too bright. It didn’t take long for the Blades Black to take them down, to the cheering adoration of the crowd. However, when a rogue and a wizard appeared, the fight was really on. Zon smashed two of the cyclops. “Now no-clops!” he exclaimed with a smile. He was really getting the hang of making jokes. Miradon took care of the third while Ophelia killed the rogue. Unfortunately, the wizard got away from Corbin and Pudge. “That’s right!” Corbin called after him, “Go and tell Jolliver the Blades Black are on his trail. Come out and fight like a man, you blackguard!” As luck would have it, Lymmura has the ability to speak to the recently deceased, and the group was able to ask the rogue a few questions. The rogue revealed that Rivergard Keep is Jolliver’s closest hideout. But, she could have been lying. She also divulged that the Bringers of Woe kidnapped Luxara of Yartar, who is apparently what their note referred to. They all just looked at each other and shrugged. They neither knew of nor particularly cared about whoever Luxara of Yartar might be. Lymmura is also adept at divination, and divined that Jolliver is on his way to kill Aerisi at the Temple of the Howling Hatred in Tyar-Besil. “All roads lead to Tyar-Besil,” joked Pudge. As no one had ever heard of the common phrase, “all roads lead to Rome”, they all looked at him as if he’d just stated the obvious. It was definitely time for a good night’s sleep once Kaylessa found another room for Ophelia, that is.

It turned out that the closest entrance to Tyar-Besil was only a single day’s journey from Red Larch. They had planned to enter the temple unnoticed, but as they approached, they heard tormented screams and didn’t take their usual precautions. It turned out to be a bad move, as they were hit by a volley of arrows as they opened a door. Other than some salty words from Ophelia, there was no harm done. The next assail was to their ears in the form of some sort of music made by wind instruments, which was, although badly played, much better than the screams which seem to have stopped. To everyone’s amazement, Zon burst into a courtyard and found himself among dwarves playing instruments made of bone. “Zon play good,” he stated as he picked up an instrument and proceeded to play along. With their hands over their ears, the rest of the Blades Black looked around. Horrified, they saw large obelisks lining the walls, with humans tied to them. The obelisks had depictions of dwarves on them, and they read, “All hail Moradin”. “Who the heck is Moradin?” asked Pudge, “There are certainly more than enough deities in this place.” “That’s not even the half of them,” said Miradon. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of any of these ones, though,” he added.

In order to look like they belong in the temple and move about more-or-less unnoticed (although no amount of disguise can really detract notice of Zon), they decided to “ask” the dwarves for their cloaks. When the dwarves refused and the leader started spellcasting, there was nothing to do but take the cloaks forcefully. And, as it happened, the arrows were not pre-set, they had been launched by a group of kenku, some of whom decided to join the fray. As the group put on the cloaks which were then bereft of owners, Pudge saw a puff of smoke glide down a nearby hallway. “Jolliver!” he exclaimed, “Follow that cotton ball!” “Now what is that idiot talking about?” complained Ophelia as they all ran after him, “Are these footballs he talks of made of cotton?” They lost sight of Jolliver as they found themselves in a cavern with walls more than 60 feet high. There were multiple buildings in what were obviously the remains of the dwarven underground city of Tyar-Besil. Given that the Blades Black believed that Aerisi was in danger from Jolliver, they decided to try to find her and warn her. At the end of the hall there were double doors which led into a room with a huge pyramid with a moat around it. On the top of the pyramid was a man in a feathered cloak mounted on what looked like a small dragon. Ophelia lifted up her hand and made what she believed to be the air cult symbol. “Oops,” is all she said as the man took to the air and summoned another small dragon, or “wyvern”.

The second wyvern landed directly behind Zon, which was a bad decision; Zon didn’t take kindly to being startled at the best of times, but he was grumpy at that moment because his musical career had recently been cut short. He turned swiftly as he pulled out his greatsword from its sheath and sliced its head clean off. Seeing this took the man aback, and he paused in his descent towards Ophelia, which was a bad decision, because that pause was all she needed to send two well-aimed daggers directly into his heart, while Pudge’s blast of cold put out his wyvern’s fire permanently.

Triumphant again, the Blades Black looked around the room. On one side of the moat was a waterfall, and double doors forming an entrance into the pyramid. Chanting was coming from inside the pyramid. How had they kept chanting through the carnage outside? Either it had been a very quiet battle, the pyramid walls were very thick, or they were deaf. Opening the doors and peeking inside revealed air cultists praying around a pit, probably summoning something that the group didn’t want to know about! But, no Aerisi. Before the cultists could summon something nasty, Miradon attacked them. Corbin went on the attack too, but was attacked from behind by an ogre. A rather well-dressed ogre. No, not an ogre, but Jolliver the shape-shifter – Corbin’s archnemesis. Corbin struck out with his glaive and sent Jolliver reeling. Jolliver’s body fell into the moat and started to float towards the waterfall. In the nick of time, Ophelia jumped into the water, stabbed him to ensure his demise, and grabbed his glaive. As she crawled back out of the moat, Jolliver’s body washed over the waterfall. “Why didn’t you grab him?” yelled Corbin at Ophelia. “You try getting in there and hauling out the body of an ogre! I got you the glaive, and you owe me three-quarters of the bounty!” she replied. “Three-quarters? Are you nuts?” retorted Corbin hotly.

“Stop it, you two!” exclaimed Miradon as he climbed a set of stairs, “I’ve just killed seven air cultists down in that pit and we’d better be getting out of here before their friends show up!” Momentarily chastened, Corbin and Ophelia followed him up the stairs, followed by smirking Pudge and Zon. What they encountered at the top of the stairs was somewhat startling. Five cultists sat, motionless and with wary eyes, watching the scene before them. “They won’t escape me again, Aerisi!” groveled a man standing before a large dais. No, not standing, suspended. “No, they won’t, Windharrow, because YOU are not going to be the one chasing them!” came the menaced reply, “In fact, we won’t have to chase them again as they have finally come to me!” With that, she thrust him aside, where he fell to the ground with a large thud. The sound woke a gigantic vulture who had been resting on a buttress near the ceiling. As it crawled along, watchful now, Aerisi turned to Corbin. “So it’s true, Corbin Blackblade, you have Windvane’s shaft,” she hissed, “You will give it to me now or I will pry it out of your cold, dead fingers!” As she spoke, she pointed at Corbin and, as if on cue, the vulture leapt down and attacked. Aerisi hadn’t yet heard how the Blades Black had defeated the wind elementals back in Red Larch, or she would have been more careful picking a fight. The 5 cultists were of little use as they fell easily under a few swipes from Zon’s greatsword. The Blades Black would have dispatched the vulture with ease, except that an unknown invisible person was carrying out sneak attacks on Corbin, and then Ophelia. However, when Aerisi was felled by a combination of attacks from the Blades Black, it seemingly stopped. “Hey, Miradon,” exclaimed Zon, “You see me chop cult guys? Sniff, sniff. You smell bad!” “Of course I smell bad, I was followed by a poison cloud, thank you very much!” growled Miradon. “Go away from cloud,” said Zon reasonably. “Don’t you think I didn’t try that? It followed me down the stairs and around the corner like it was possessed!” yelled an exasperated Miradon.

Left alone in the hall, the group inspected the various artefacts scattered about. “Hey, look at this neat horn!” called Pudge, taking down a large, curved horn from the wall. “There’s some sort of magic on it,” said Miradon, walking over. “Let’s see what kind of magic it’s got!” exclaimed Ophelia as she strode to where Pudge was holding it, with an aside to Pudge, “don’t go near Miradon, he smells like an orc with digestion problems.” With a mighty inhale, she blew hard into the horn. A wisp of smoke appeared from the end of the horn, which resolved itself into the shape of a man, at least down to the waist. Below that was only wisps of fog. “Holy Arabian Nights!” cried Pudge. Nobody heeded him. “Only one person in an age has the ability to call me from the depths of the vessel in which I live,” the figure stated, “and I will complete one task for that person.” Ophelia blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “That invisible somebody who was fighting us moments ago, can you find him?” “The male being who had been invisible works for Yan-C-Bin, the god whom Aerisi and her followers worship. The invisible being has now left the area.” With that, the genie disappeared. “Well, that wasn’t exactly helpful, was it?” said Ophelia, clearly disappointed.

“Let’s get the lay of the land in this place,” said Corbin, and the Blades Black followed him out and into the main area of the legendary dwarven inhabitation. The place was a deserted warren of buildings and side alleys. They came upon the river into which Jolliver’s body washed. Following it along and further deeper into the caverns, they found themselves at an underground lake. Curiously, the piers seemed to be in good repair and recently used. There were also canoes tied to the pier. Intending to see if Jolliver’s body washed up nearby, they hopped into a couple of canoes and continued to follow the river. After a while, the river widened into a large, cavernous area, also with a lake and recently-used piers. Not only that, but they could see firelight ahead, where the lake gave way to a manmade canal. A lit torch hung on the wall, and footsteps in the dirt revealed that many people had been traversing this place in the last day. Walking quietly down the path which led away from the canal, the group came across a number of doors. The first was locked from the outside and Zon was about to open it, but Ophelia stopped him, whispering “we don’t know what’s behind there!” “Me hungry,” he retorted. Further up there was another door, this time there were voices on the other side. “Maybe food!” Zon exclaimed as he busted down the door. The half-dozen water cultists inside did not have food, they had swords. “Now you’ve done it!” shouted Ophelia as she pulled out her daggers and chucked them at the nearest cultist, killing him. “I really hungry now!” shouted back Zon as he ducked a sword and drove his own deep into the cultist’s chest. “So? I need a drink but you don’t see me busting down doors!” Ophelia yelled at him as she kicked a cultist in the head and snapped his neck. “Will the two of you just stop?” barked Pudge as he flew into the room and sent a blast of cold at the last cultist. They looked around, realizing that the only person they’d left alive was a sorcerer, who had backed into a corner and was looking wild-eyed at the strange individuals. Corbin walked up to him. “As you can see, my comrades are a little unhinged. Tell us what we want to know and we’ll leave you unharmed.”

The sorcerer explained that they had stumbled upon a prison, with about 400 people there. Upon further questioning, it was learned that the man was familiar with the name Jolliver, if not the person, and knew Gar well. In fact, it was he the Blades Black had to get through. Breaking from tradition, they decided to throw him into the door which they had been too cautious to open earlier. Zon slung him across his shoulder, properly bound and gagged, opened the door and walked in. When he didn’t come back out or call out, Corbin started to get a little worried. Peeking in, he saw Zon taking large swigs from a fountain in the middle of the room. “Do I have to do everything myself?” he muttered to himself as he took the sorcerer and deposited him on one of the straw pallets which lined the walls.

That done, they continued along and crossed a bridge. Looking down at the river below, Miradon noticed corpses floating by. Scrambling down the embankment on the other side, he pulled one from the water. They looked fresh, and human. Where had they come from? The Blades Black hadn’t seen many humans in this vicinity. While contemplating this mystery, Miradon heard voices from the end of the bridge. There was a door among the dwarven frescoes in the corridor which extended from the bridge. With their usual abundance of caution, Zon had opened the door for Ophelia to enter, without pausing to figure out who, or what, was making the guttural noises inside. “Gack!” exclaimed Ophelia, “It reeks in here! Probably those large trolls!” It turned out that her exclamation was an understatement. They were not only large trolls, or maybe just medium-sized as trolls go, they were also deadly-looking and decidedly smelly. And stupid. Pudge conjured his mage hand which snuck around behind the trolls and dropped an earthen urn on the floor. As they turned to look, the Blades Black pounced. Zon cut off the arm of the first one, but it continued undaunted in its attack on Corbin. Zon hit it again and put his greatsword through its smelly, ugly head. Freed from the attack, Corbin did a one-two attack with his glaive on the other. Although victorious, Corbin was disturbed about the odorous blood on his weapon. He couldn’t even wipe it off on the troll’s corpse, as it would probably just get dirtier. “They smell like Woe-bring people!” joked Zon as he set fire to their corpses, “Ah! That better.” With nothing left to do but forge ahead, the Blades Black started down a hallway leading away from the bridge and came across a statue of 3 dancing merfolk. Ophelia strode up to it, saying, “Maybe there are some jewels in there!” But no, the fountain was dry and the statue badly damaged, with missing arms and heads. There was nothing in sight except for a couple of bugbears arguing. The group never found out what the bugbears were arguing about, as they dispatched them on sight. While it may seem presumptuous not to give them the benefit of the doubt that they were friendly, the Blades Black’s experience was that there weren’t too many friendly folk around, and prolonged commotion brought enemies out from the shadows. Sure enough, a couple of ogres showed up, apparently the bodyguards of the sea hag, Thuluna Maah. They knew this because she came out of a room on the far side of the fountain saying, “I am Thuluna Maah, second in command to Gar Shatterkeel! You have disturbed my slumber and you will pay for it!” She stared hard at Ophelia, with a particular hatred in her eyes. But only for a moment, as Ophelia’s daggers found their marks in each shoulder, pinning her to the wall. “Oh, it’s the Blades Black!” Thuluna cried in a completely different tone. “Please forgive me, I didn’t recognize you. Your fame precedes you, and I told myself that if I ever met you, I would pledge my undying fealty to you. I also have treasure. Oh yes, lots of treasure. Jewels which would look divine on you, beautiful Ophelia!” These words had the opposite effect than intended on Ophelia, who hated sycophants. “I think your head would look divine on a necklace,” stated Ophelia as she signalled Zon to take a mighty swing. Thuluna taken care of, they continued to explore the temple. They came to a curious room, full of jars and pots and liquids on burners. “Reminds me of chemistry class,” stated Pudge, “but if these beakers are over flame and the liquid hasn’t evaporated, that means they haven’t been left alone for very long.” “Well done, Blades Black, you have…” a voice behind them started to say. Afterwards, Zon and Ophelia had a long argument about whose weapon reached the man first. “Note to self,” Miradon muttered, “Never surprise those two.” As usual, Ophelia raced to grab all the treasure, potions and weapons to be found. Curiously, a number of letters were found in a trunk in this room, detailing the Blades Black’s movements. A spy had been following them and reporting to the recently deceased man, whose name was Morbeoth. “Good riddance, Morbeoth,” scowled Miradon. Since this room looked to be easily guarded, the Blades Black decided to rest and recuperate a bit before continuing their journey.

While they rested, Pudge took Corbin aside and said, “I’ve been thinking about your oily demonstration the other day. I think you were trying to get us to understand the concept of teamwork. Like football.” “Yes, it’s important to work together when it’s kill or be killed,” Corbin replied. “No, football’s a game, you don’t kill the opposing team,” replied Pudge. “Oh, it’s for children, then,” reasoned Corbin. “No, it’s an adult game. You throw the ball to your teammates and try to score,” said Pudge. “Then you kill the losers!” exclaimed Corbin. “No! Look, the point I’m trying to make is that unless the team works together, the team loses the game. That’s the same point you were trying to make. I get it now,” said an exasperated Pudge. “Ah yes, that’s the point. Not at all like the gladiator ring, where it’s every man for himself, and the world the rest of the Blades Black is used to living in. This football game of yours could be useful for training teamwork,” replied Corbin, adding, “For children.”

When they felt sufficiently rested, they went back the way they came and, just before they crossed the bridge, Miradon spied a few barges on a small beach below. “I want to see where those human bodies were coming from,” he said as he made his way down toward the water. The rest followed and, after making one serviceable, hopped in. The river of water opened into a small lake. They decided to keep to the middle of the lake, where they hoped they couldn’t be surprised by an attack from the land. “What was that? There’s something in the water!” hissed Pudge to Ophelia. “You are dreaming,” she replied, although her body tensed as she searched the sides of the lake. “There! Not on land, in the water!” hissed Pudge again. “You are not dreaming. Water trolls. They’ve disappeared under the water again,” she rejoined. Just as she finished speaking, the trolls appeared on either side of the boat and grabbed it, trying to pull it under. “Oh no, you don’t,” shouted Corbin as he stabbed at the one on his side with his glaive. “Not today,” shouted Miradon as he slashed at the one on his side with his sword. Everyone joined in and attacked the trolls until they sank below the surface. “Teamwork,” said Corbin breathlessly. “Teamwork,” agreed Pudge.

At the far end of the lake there was a dais with a shrine. Climbing noiselessly from the boat onto the dais, they stealthily opened the doors to the shrine, on which were printed symbols of the water cult. A loud thunderclap - “Boom!” – accompanied the opening of the doors. “Not sneaky,” whispered Zon, stating the obvious. The doors had been crafted to fit so tightly to the frames that there had been no water leaking underneath them. Now the Blades Black found themselves in a couple of inches of water. “Nobody is that good at construction,” mused Miradon, “it would have been magic. Watch out for a spellcaster.” Ahead of them they saw a large room with an altar of sorts at the far end. There were a number of columns surrounding the altar, to which humans were bound. A waterfall was situated on each side of the altar, with the water running in front of the altar and then flowing along each side of a dais, forming two canals. Rhythmic chanting was heard coming from a figure on the dais and, as the chanting stopped, acolytes went up to the bound humans and plunged daggers into their hearts, cut their chains, and threw them into the water. The bodies floated down the canals, past the Blades Black and down into tunnels. It was one of these bodies that Miradon had seen in the water by the bridge. Suddenly, Ophelia hissed, “Gar!” The rest of the group turned their eyes to where she was looking, which was at the figure on the dais. Gar Shatterkeel turned and looked at Ophelia, smirking. “Still upset about your sorry little boat, Ophelia?” At this, Ophelia let fly her daggers, but he was too quick. “I need a better vantage point,” said Miradon, as he proceeded to climb up the side wall. “He bit by spider?” asked an incredulous Zon to no one in particular. “We should take care of…” Corbin started to say, but any teamwork was out the window as Ophelia leapt over to the dais and started pummeling Gar. Meanwhile, Miradon, doing his spider impression, rains arrows on the heads of the acolytes, while deftly avoiding hitting any of the prisoners or the rest of the Blades Black. Zon, unfortunately, was hit by a stunning spell cast by one of the acolytes, nearly falling into the canal, but Corbin and Pudge managed to get to the prisoners and unbind them. They all turned when they heard “Aieeyyaa!” from Ophelia, as she plunged her daggers deep into Gar’s heart. He fell towards the water and, as he did, his body turned into a stream of water. “Oh no, you don’t!” yelled Ophelia as she made a grab for him. When she pulled her hand back, though, there was nothing, except a key.

The Blades Black gave the former prisoners some food and asked them to tell their tale. They didn’t have much to tell, they were so confused and scared about what had happened. That they were from Beliard was about all the useful information the group could glean before letting them make their way home. As the Blades Black sat and rested, they mused over the key. It was very strange that it was the only thing that didn’t turn into water. “Into water… into water…” intoned Ophelia. Suddenly, she jumped up, downed a water-breathing potion and dove into the canal. Once there, she saw a tunnel which led to a cave with a heavy door. Sure enough, the key opened the door to reveal a cave the inside of which was all decked out like a fancy living area. Also in the cave are a number of chests, all locked. “Let’s see if you’re a skeleton key,” Ophelia apostrophized the key. It worked! Now her only problem was that there were too many goodies to carry. She loaded up as many gems as she could, and also took some papers which looked to be important. Once back on dry land, she spread them out for all to read. There were two letters to Gar Shatterkeel from Shoalar Quanderil. “Why does that name sound familiar?” asked Pudge, “And why is this dream conjuring up such weird names? Why not Mary or Lucy or George or Benjamin, like the American President?” “Ha ha!” laughed Zon, “Those names funny!” Pudge glowered at Zon. “Would you two knuckleheads keep it down and pay attention,” said Corbin loudly, staring both of them down. “Now, let’s see what these say,” he said as he took the miraculously dry and legible letters from Ophelia. “Hmmm. This one says that Ghald has been retained to deal with the Blades Black. Heh heh. I hope he’s not one of those Bringers of Woe losers! Also, the Black Earth Cult (of whom Marlos is the leader) was not involved in stealing the Orb. Whoever wrote this says they are still looking for it. I hope it’s the one we exploded in Red Larch,” he continued. “Now, these two are letters from Vanifer to Gar. She calls herself the “one true prophet of the elementals”. Ow! What a way to hurt poor “prophet” Gar’s feelings! And, dear me, she’s upset that Gar’s minions are crossing the border. What border? Miradon, what has gotten into you?” Miradon replied, “I sense undead here. They’re calling to me. It’s my life’s work to free them from…” but he was interrupted by a loud voice ringing in his head. It was ringing in everyone’s head, actually. The voice said, “All Harpers, hear me now! The Hand has stolen the orb! I will be travelling from Triboar to Beliard. Meet me there three days hence!” “Who Harpers?” asked Zon. “We are now,” replied Miradon, “That voice was Darathra Shendrel. We’d best be getting out of here if we want to meet her and the other Harpers in Beliard.”

As they walked, Miradon updated them on his understanding of the realm and his mission there. He’s after the princess of elemental evil. He didn’t know who that was until Vanifer’s letter to Gar. At least, she thinks she’s the princess of elemental evil, although he wasn’t sure if it was actually true. His friend Mobroc died trying to fight the evil that the princess brings. And now she’s bringing it to this realm. He was bidden by his goddess, Vandria Gilmadrith, The Lady of Grief, to stop this from happening. The power seemed to be tied to the Orb. Corbin listened with great interest, while Pudge and Zon were having much more fun playing with Mage Hand, sending it to chuck pinecones at birds. “Watch out!” yelled Ophelia at one point as a wyvern wheeled overhead. It was apparently not looking for them, however, as it continued its passage north, in the same direction the Blades Black were heading. Nevertheless, Ophelia’s attention was directed at the sky from then on, and not on Miradon.

Since Beliard is such a small town, the Blades Black’s return had not gone unnoticed. Or at least in Corbin’s eyes. People lined the streets, with adoring faces. “Ah yes,” he said to no one in particular, “Our long-awaited return has our admirers stopping in their tracks. That fellow has positively fainted!” “He drunk. Passed out,” commented Zon. Indeed, they had come to the entrance of the pub. They went into the Watchful Knight and found Darathra waiting for them inside. Darathra had plenty of information to give them, and a request. “So, let me see if I understand,” sighed Corbin as he rubbed his hands on his face, “There’s a thieves’ guild called the Hand, who has stolen the Devastation Orb. The Devastation Orb is an elemental bomb, like the one we encountered in Red Larch. The Kraken Society is looking for the orb too; it has to be kept out of their hands, as no good will come of that. You want us to approach the Hand and outbid the Kraken Society.” “Yes,” she replied, “And here’s a purse of gold pieces, which should be enough to outbid the Kraken Society. Return it to me in Triboar.” Never one to pass up gold, Ophelia grabbed the purse, saying, “Deal! On one condition, that you give these books to Bruldenthar and have him meet us in Triboar.” “Hey, who’s the leader of this group? We take commissions when I say…” began Corbin, but his speech to Ophelia was cut off by screams coming from outside, closely followed by hellhounds bursting through the door. Thinking quickly, Ophelia threw her hand axe at one, cutting off its head, and on the hand axe’s return, dispatched the other. “Sorry, you were saying, Mr. Leader?” she quipped. “One more thing,” said Darathra, “Watch out for Shoalar Quanderil. He’s a spy for the water cult. Oh. And the Bringers of Woe have put a price on your heads,” said Darathra as she sidestepped a headless hellhound body and went out the door. Their rooms ready, the Blades Black retired for the night.

In the morning, Pudge found himself with a full beard, thanks to his belt of dwarvenkind. He, for one, set off for Yartar in a chipper mood. Ophelia had the purse full of Darathra’s gold which made a happy, jingling sound as she bounced it from hand to hand. Zon had been supplied with tasty treats to eat on the road, so he had a spring in his step too. Only Corbin and Miradon lagged behind, speaking in low voices throughout the journey. “You know what?” queried Ophelia as they neared Yartar, “We should each get a “Blades Black” tattoo! I’ve been drawing one which has elements of each of our personalities in it. Take a look.” “Bottle of booze is funny!” laughed Zon. Pudge and Corbin both agreed it was a fine piece of work and they’ll get it done at first opportunity. Finally, they arrived in Yartar, which is a big trading center, surrounded by high stone walls. Unfortunately for them, as they headed in the direction of the Wink & Kiss, they had the misfortune to encounter the Bringers of Woe. Fortunately for the rest of the town, a trading of insults was all that ensued. Clearly, their reputation had preceded them.

Since it was still early in the day, and their moods were dampened by the encounter with the Bringers of Woe, they decided to head to the tattoo parlour. “Jiminy Cricket, this hurts!” said Pudge through clenched teeth. “Hee hee this tickles!” responded Zon. “Here, ya big baby, have a nip of this and you’ll survive,” laughed Ophelia as she handed Pudge her flask. A few gulps later and Pudge was properly fortified. Miradon, however, did not get a tattoo, mumbling something about his body being a temple and looking more miserable than they had ever seen him. That done, they headed to the Wink & Kiss, where the Bringers of Woe were lying in wait for them. “All right, what have you done with Luxara, you Black Earth cult scoundrels?” yelled Corbin. “Actually, we’re not really part of the Black Earth cult – yet. Taking down the Blades Black,” one of them started to say, “is our ticket in.” “So let Luxara go and come take off our heads!” rejoined Corbin as he pulled out his glave. Meanwhile Ophelia snuck around the side without the Bringers of Woe noticing (not a difficult thing to do) and hid upstairs in order to see where the Bringers of Woe had been keeping Luxara. To Ophelia’s surprise, Luxara looked exactly like her! “Those idiots, they thought they were capturing me,” she whispered to herself, “They aren’t even worth the effort of getting my daggers bloody.” So she waited at the top of the stairs for the others to pull out their weapons and do what was a really small amount of damage to the Bringers of Woe before the cowards ran off. Poor Luxara was in quite a state, as she had been peacefully minding her shop when the scum kidnapped her.