Our GM had to retcon a little to get us steered in the right direction for the adventure. Two of the players missed gaming this night. Our GM gave us a pile of “reroll chips” for the game and we still narrowly avoided a TPK. I sent one of my d20s to “dice hell” after burning all my chips to avoid being paralyzed by giant spider venom and rolling 1, 2, & 1.
Dear Friar Ignatius,
Remember, ye does, how I laid out three options what we had for our next steps in me last missive? I imagine ye’d not be surprised that we took option four. Nearly cost us our lives it did! Gettin’ ahead o’ meself, says I. Let’s starts at t’ beginnin’…
Been spendin’ me time in Kilerth healin’ t’ injured down at t’ temple o’ their goddess o’ t’ moon “Sehanine”. Whilst so engaged, heard t’ locals a cryin’ and a weepin’ what their town be cursed. What with them prayin’ t’ such a milksop o’ a goddess ‘twould be no surprise t’ me if they be laborin’ under a dread curse. Ready t’ ignore ’em, I be, until one o’ t’ priests starts goin’ on about an artifact called “T’ Cross o’ Sehanine”. Said t’ grant t’ user all sorts o’ magical powers.
Now here be a prize worth takin’, says I. Har! T’ woes o’ t’ town be said t’ stem from t’ theft o’ this artifact. Questioned a few o’ t’ priests and Templars about what happened, did I, but they be ignorant fools. Me first instinct be they bethought t’ abscond with t’ thin’ themselves. Found our six-toed burglar and told him t’ go ask his thievin’ buckos what they be knowin’. ‘Twas nary a thin’, though they did hear tell what one o’ t’ temple guards be poisoned by spider venom.
After a good deal o’ grog, decided t’ retire t’ me chambers for t’ night. When I made me way t’ t’ tap room t’ next mornin’, t’ locals was in quite a stir. Seems their lord mayor, captain and sergeant o’ t’ guards was hung like ugly pictures in t’ town square. Immediately suspected t’ sorcerer, did I, what with him goin’ t’ supper at t’ mayor’s house and whatnot. Marched up t’ his room and questioned him whilst lookin’ for where he hid t’ loot. Should’ve know he didn’t have t’ wherewithal t’ pull off a murder like that! Gave me what I thought be some cock-in-bull story about a fella ridin’ a giant bat as he stumbled home from his soiree.
After me eggs and bacon, t’ lads and I went down t’ t’ square t’ see what was what. T’ poor sods was strung up naked and covered in stab wounds. Seemed t’ have t’ whole town gawkin’ at t’ corpses. By Hastur Ignatius, this place be in such disarray that I could take it with 40 men. Har! T’ nob proved his worth, takin’ charge o’ t’ guards. We cut t’ bastards down and found they was filled with spiders. We hauled their sorry corpses out o’ site and started askin’ around for who would do such a thin’. Eventually we hears a tale o’ how an old mine shaft once hit a nest o’ Drow somewhere outside t’ city. Drow, spiders, bats, it all fit nicely…
Found t’ location o’ t’ mine easy enough, we did, and managed t’ ditch that elf paladin and ugly hobbit t’ boot. Har! T’ nob commandeered us a fancy carriage and an escort t’ t’ old mine. T’ ride be pleasant enough. We camped along t’ way and come upon it just after lunchtime t’ next day. As I be climbin’ down from t’ carriage, I noticed a great, hulkin’ foot stickin’ out o’ t’ side o’ a cliff face wherein this mine be located. Gave me new crossbow a whirl, sendin’ a bolt into a stone giant’s ankle. Har! He weren’t too keen on that and him and I traded blows while t’ sorceror let him have it with spells and old six-toe peppered him with arrows. He didn’t last too long and we got ourselves a nice haul o’ doubloons from his stinkin’ corpse.
Stuck our heads into t’ mine and stirred up a couple o’ giant bats what was restin’ in t’ place. After puttin’ t’ foul creatures down, we roped ourselves together and started down a shaft into t’ deeper mines. Ah Ignatius, ’twas nearly t’ end o’ us I tells ye. A bunch o’ giant spiders and a drider trapped us in a neat ambuscade. Between bein’ peppered with arrows, poisoned and whatnot, thoughts I’d never feel t’ salt spray on me face again. With t’ blessin’ o’ t’ Tentacled Whisperer we managed t’ defeat them, but it was a close run thin’ says I.
Agreed, we was, that further exploration be waitin’ until we’d had a chance t’ get some shut eye and set off down t’ road a pace t’ get us some rest. By t’ Black Goat, what do we see but that paladin and ugly hobbit strollin’ up t’ road toward us. Methinks they can take point when we journey back t’ that benighted place.
Black Jack Barcelona