Shielding Alliance

different paths leading up the same mountain
aka let's all convert to Helm!

A clearly confused Florent looks at Turtle. “You ‘ave taken vows?” A big smile of evangelic joy comes to his face. “Welcome to the fold of ‘Elm, Sister Turtel! This is great news. I know ‘Elm ‘ears my prayers. Praise be to ‘Elm!” Moving closer to Turtle he whispers “you can keep ‘aving sex and no break your vows, though. I no think this purity thing is requirement of ‘Elm. The Protector still answers my prayers after my exploits…” OOG: Bluff check?

“Trevelyan, you are next on my conversion list. And as for shooting at allies, I so no thank you pour moi. If there is good chance at ‘itting me, no shoot me. Step up and ‘elp our shoot something farther away.”

Turning to Florent, the smile lessens. “Nay, shield brother, I have not entered the Watcher’s fold. While I have the upmost respect for the Vigilant One’s objectives, sadly, I could not commit to him. Helm is indeed lawful, but I have not seen the goodness that I am searching for within his followers.” Her eyes meet his. “I feel you are too zealous in carrying out what you see as his mission, and in the process, are ignoring vital Helmite dogma despite my warnings. Meanwhile those in Helm’s service living in Hommlett have clearly become too lax, allowing this evil {a gesture towards the Temple} to flourish. But it was visions of another being, one of both law and of good, which has guided my heart into the service of the Seven Heavens. And I am much at peace from it.” Her visage is of calm serenity.

“That is alright, Turtel. No everyone can ‘as what it takes to be a priest of ‘Elm. The responsibilities and powers are both great. I am sure you will serve him well as his paladin, though. Let me know if you ‘ave trouble discerning the meaning of ‘Elm’s visions. For example, I am pretty sure ‘Elm only ‘as one ‘eaven, no seven. Your rookie mistake is understandable, for the mysteries of ‘Elm are great indeed!”

“Be sure she does not mean YOUR god Florent..

We each serve our own deities, or none at all, but I am pretty sure that you will not win any of us to Helm’s grace with your overzealous following.

When I grew up in the Shae I followed the Great Goddess Chauntea.. but I have moved further from her will as I continue on this path.In her stead I have decided to follow the great Lord of Battles… Tempus. His will and actions are mare akin to my path and thus it is He whom I serve. I will not be swayed to follow Helm… for the models and examples he has provided thus far are not sufficient for my conversion. Though I am sure he is a great and benevolent god..

Florent says, “Pardon moi, messiur Treveylan, but you are mistaken. Great is the mercy of ‘Elm, but ‘e does ‘ave standards for ‘is followers. You are no in consideration for joining ‘is fold, barring a miracle of ‘is grace and power.”

OOG: For those of you keeping score, that would be dig, set, and spike. Side out, Hood.

Even Helms grace could not forgive your rash and blind devotion. But again I am not concerned for his grace or acceptance. But if he is such a forgiving deity, then as an example of his followers, shouldnt you also mimic his ideals and actions?

If greatness is determined by blindness. then you would be his greatest follower. However, I would rather be a one-eyed man among the blind if that is the case.

Florent, I do not want to argue with you… but it seems that is all you and I seem to do.

Turning to the rest, On the notion of SOP can we agree not to try to convert anyone any further and leave the topic of Gods amongst those that truly care to discuss them, the priests and clerics.

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shoot away

<hick> Furnock bellows “can we add running away in melee to the SOP?” He giggles then continues “While we’re on the subject of what we do…” (He then falls asleep)

NOTE: Taking Luke out of the mix since he’s asleep. :P And Pertinax is usually revelrieing.

Turtle frowns at the unconscious rogue and sighs heavily. “He can be such a handful.” Turning to Florent, she points a finger. “I think it is quite unfair to take issue with those who rely on missile weapons. The occasional stray shot is part of the hazards we face, as are the chances of a trap not being disarmed thanks to this one,” she jerks a thumb in the snoring rogue’s direction, “or a spell going wrong thanks to that one,” pointing to the revelried Pertinax, “or Helm’s grace failing.” She moves her shields to show her spikes.

“I’d rather have someone try with at least a reasonable chance of success and and fail, then hang back to let our real enemies have free shots. Nay, if I am in the front, than I am in the front.” She stands, getting ready to guard. “Do not hesitate for he who hesitates is lost. Let the arrows, bolts, and spells fall where they may.” Moving to the door. “I’ll take the first two shifts. Other volunteers?”

Florent begins the process of shedding his armor. “Pour moi, it is the ‘reasonable chance of success’ that is in question. When we are fighting up close, the probability of hitting un amis is too great, I am guessing from our past attempts, unless one is skilled with the weapons of range.” With this Florent dips his head to Sulmia.

Moving closer to his companions Florent asks, “What do we know of this elven champion?” Based on my ‘eal checks and ‘ealing, I can say he has great fortitude and when fully ‘ealed, would be more powerful than any of us individually. ‘Ave we learned anything specifically about ‘ow ‘e was captured?”

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Shhh! sleepy adventurers

Furnock giggles then hick-ups (there appears to be a half empty wine bottle poking from Furnock’s pocket. “Shirts get ruined, I needed a new one anyways, one with more frills. I also need a scented hanky, the strong smells are giving me a headache. <hick> ahhh. Trevelyn is there some way to tell if those burned corpses are female? Anyway the elven head we found was masculine. So there may be more elven prisoners than we know of. The lady may still be alive.”

OOG: For the sake of simplicity, I’m going to assume that we’ll be resting sometime in the near future. This conversation is for when we’re resting

“At one time, mes amis, we ‘ad a conversation about ‘standard operating procedures’. It seems we ‘ave added shooting our compatriots to this list.” Speaking to the group Florent gives the ‘settle down’ gesture. “Before you get ‘eated, I acknowledge that accidents ‘appen, sometimes quite often. This is understandable. But it seems to moi that we should be able to get through encounter with no shooting ally in back. Turtle, your shield spike is the latest example of this. I am no tactician, but I no think shooting into melee when there is chance, and in our case, a good chance of hitting ally, is a good idea. Our record of track is no so good on this account, no? Can we make this new SOP?”

<hick> Furnock bellows “can we add running away in melee to the SOP?” He giggles then continues “While we’re on the subject of what we do…” (He then falls asleep)

“Unless of course, any of you who like shooting into raging melees, learn the very elf-like skill of being precise in your shots. I could teach anyone who is interested.”

“Otherwise I’d refrain from doing it given our high rate of shooting compatriots in the back.”

Furnock clutches his head and moans “oh yes.. what ever you say… no more shooting into melee… oh my head” he starts grumbling and then goes to whining, then pleading for more water.

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temple sleepover

OOG: whats the order for rest?

Furnock looks at the ruined cuffs of his frilly shirt and sighs. (His speech seems to be losing some of his strange accent, or maybe everyone is just getting used to his strange speech) “Can Helm’s might do anything about ruined cuffs? Or does it only affect mortal injuries? As to the Sir Champion’s lady what does any of us know her fate?” Then Furnock looks over at Pertinax and Trevelyn “If the lady is alive maybe there is some way to track or locate her by magic or other means? We must press on and find out her fate then return to town. Even if she is not alive, someone should let Silverymoon know of her fate.”

Florent moves in front of Furnock. “Let moi see your cuffs, si vous plait.” He turns them over a couple times and grabs them just beneath the seams, and then rips one off. “There, mon ami. ‘Elm’s might has done something about your frilly shirt. Would you like a matching set?” Laughing to himself at his juvenille humor Florent addresses the elven champion and the rest of the party. “After resting and prayer I could ask ‘Elm for an augery that would give more direction about fate of elven lady. ‘Ave you the same divine abilities, sir Elf, or something similar? As for the guard duty during resting, I would like to take third shift so I can be awake to pray for spells at dawn. We can talk about plan while we prepare for night.”

Treveylan still slightly fuming about the “priest’s” issue with his apology, steps between Furnock and Florent before anything more can happen, “Look boy, while you may be the so-called healer of this outfit, in no way does that give you ANY right to besmirch anyone in this party. If you still have a problem with me, then take it out on me. Do not resort to childish antics that may get you hurt. Just so you know… I am not threatening to hurt you. But if you continue to act like you have just done, your sway over any us will surely wain. Now grow up and act like a man. You are supposed to be a hero, a symbol of a leader. But if you persist in acting like a child, you will be treated no better than a child.”

Florent takes a moment to see if Treveylan is serious or not. He then laughs out loud. “You are a most amusing petit half man. Did you really think Furnock was serious when he asked ‘if the might of ‘Elm could help is silk shirt?’ Did you think I would ‘eal it, or maybe call for a blessing? No. He was no serious, and opposite of serious is joking. Kidding. Playful banter. You see where we are going with this. I pulled the cuff off his shirt that was already ruined. Was this a grievious injury? No, mon ami. This is what friends do. Playfully make fun of each other. Laugh together in the face of dangers. ‘Ave you already forgotten what it means to be part of an alliance? In alliance we give each other benefit of the doubt. For this reason I will assume you were not once again giving veiled threats, but trying to join in the ‘umor. But please, ‘ow many times do we ‘ave to tell you to lighten up?!?” Florent walks over to Furnock smiling broadly and bows low. “For besmirching your fine silly shirt, I mean frilly shirt, I apologize. Once I find out what besmirch means, I will really be sorry.”

OOG: Is the Jeffers fellow still here? I thought he was.

“Sir Jeffers, can you pray for spells ‘ere, or do you need to be in the open air under the light of the moon? I know midnight approaches quickly, so this seems like logical next step.”

OOG: If Jeffers isn’t here, or even if he is, can anyone else answer the question whether a priest of Selune has to be outside to pray for spells?

Making sure to stand between Furnock and Florent, keeping an eye on Furnock, more than anyone else, he continues on, “I fear that Sir Juffer’s mistress is dead. We found 3 bodies… all of which seemed very much like Elven bone and body structure. And if Sir Juffer claims that he came in with 3 others, then those 3 bodies may very well be theirs. It is difficult to say it as they have most likely died unjustfully, but the evil grows in this foul place, and we must do what we can to quell it. I would agree with Furnock that we need to get Sir Juffer back under the moonlight, the source of his patron deity. Silverymoon must be made aware of the travesty, the sooner they know, perhaps they will assist us in our plight?”

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Once, Twice, Three Times a Lady

CHRIS: Once is an accident. It happens to everyone. Battle is messy, and misfires are the norm.

Twice is a mistake. Bad judgement to shoot into melee again. Forgetting principle one that battle is messy.

Three times? Shooting a front line defender in the back three times? Especially when said frontline defender has been beaten down and is near death? And when their are other bad guys who are not in melee that could also be targeted?

All of this could have been forgiven with an expression of sincere regret and an apology. It seems logical if you shot someone in the back for a third time and brought him to death’s doorstep, you would be apologetic. But when confronted with the assault, the half elf responds with another threat. Not an apology but a threat. Que’se que ce? What is this?

Florent stews uneasily in the back of the Team Beta, trying to rid himself of dark thoughts and questions about Treveylan’s commitment to the ‘Shielding Alliance’.

OOFH: (Out Of Florent’s Head): Funny as hell. What an epic session. I still can’t believe Florent’s been shot three times in the back in a matter of weeks by someone whose favored enemy is humans. Coincidence? Now I’ve got the Lionel Richie song stuck in my head. I could even see a music video with the times the prince shot the teen in slow motion.

BRIAN: Is are all the statements before the OOFH in character??

ROBERTO: Why ask? Just go postal. It’ll be funny.

CHRIS: Now that was funny. Humor award of the day goes to Dr. Vargas. You can pick up your statuette next week.

CHRIS: Statements before OOFH are IOFH (Inside Of Florent’s Head). They are my attempt to use Florent’s interior monologue as a re-cap technique and to be funny. If you’re asking can Treveylan hear what Florent is thinking, “you can TRY anything” as the DM likes to say. My guess is no.

BRIAN: can hear the thoughts of most humans, as they cannot seem to keep their thoughts within their heads for long ; )

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the beginning of the end

It started out as a standard session. Sneaky types loot the bodies and search for secret doors/traps while tin man/woman types guard the exits and heal those they can. The end results of these efforts were three secret doors, a bunch of magic stuff, and boots of Cat’s grace that Sulmia took dibs on. A debate then continued, in typical Shielding Alliance fashion. Do we stay put and try to cast the Hallow scroll, requiring 24 hours, do we investigate the immediate area to be certain we won’t be interrupted during the spell casting, or do we run like chicken’s back to Homlette? (We had to at least acknowledge the Furnock vote.) To be fair even the blinded by faith Helmite was uncertain whether they could pull off the 24 hour Hallow spell, so the party agreed to at least check the exits to be sure imminent danger did not lurk.

It did.

This is where it gets sketchy. We open one of the secret doors and hear ominous barking noises that seem to have common phrases mingled with the big dog barks. Stairs ahead descend another 30 ft. Those present go on the assumption that this door will lead back to the troll room, even though the dumb as dirt cleric points out we are no longer even with that level. The half blood prince forges ahead down a long stair case (you would think Raspy had gotten over his death wish in the Thursday campaign) as the rogue “makes sure the secret door doesn’t close behind us leaving us trapped.” Kudos to Austin for doing the best Furnock/Luke/coward impersenation, without having been introduced to either. The Razzie award goes to Chris for playing Luke/Furnock as the characther quoted saying “Today is a good day to die.” after Austin had to head home and Chris took over NPCing Furnock. At least I kept him behind the shield wall.

Moving ahead, the shield wall forms and ranged attacks are exchanged. The worg retreats, replaced by some beefed up bug bears. Things get ugly when the bug bears adapt their strategy from trying to shoot at the shield wall from afar, to running up and dragging the shield wall down with them. As the onslaught comes forward, Florent feels a familiar tingle surge up his arm from his ring of free action that says, “you are so damn lucky you kept this ring”. Florent takes his free action to give her a “I told you so” look before she is dragged down the stairwell in a blur of bug bear and shields. Unfortunately the pile unfolds at the bottom of the stairs, with Turtle at the feet of a giant and a couple other bad ass MFers.

At this point the DM wisely calls a TO in the action due the fact of the missing players and their character sheets. The encounter has become too critical to assume an NPC’s character sheet. On top of this, that damn cheating Frenchmen tried to give a scroll of stinking cloud to the NPC Pertinax, when he’d already used this spell. After Florent tried to submit his prayed for spell list after the encounter was over a couple weeks ago, his credibilty is out the window. This only reinforced the experience.

In plan B fashion we decided to table the DnD experience in favor of another game. This was done so that those absent would not lament the demise of their characters after they were all decimiated, except Furnock, of course. We also wanted to punish Roberto for not answering the pages of “chaplain Hood”, so we played a rousing game of Puerto Rico. I don’t remember who won that game, but me and Dan weren’t trying anyway, so if Brian won is was a charity victory. (At this point the author succumbs to his bitterness and moves quickly towards the conclusion of this epic, extra XP deserving e-mail.)

Thanks to Dan for rallying on a short staffed week.

For everyone, please send an ‘e’ copy of your character to the rest of us in cyber space so we can print them out as necessary. Paper copies are encouraged as well.

Come next week to see if Turtle can stay within her shell long enough for fold to arrive, or at least long enough for one of use to grab a scrap of he DNA to have her raised from the dead. (I’m always the optimist.) Come see Florent elevated to the pope of the church of Helm and given near divine status. (This may not happen next week, but stay tuned.)

A few clarifications to make more sense out of what otherwise seems insensible. First, Pertinax used READ MAGIC on runes around the altar and was able to discern that they were very powerful glyphs. So climbing out of the chute via standing on top of said altar and using the rope of climbing was not an option. Furnock was going to try a way and open all the doors, but then Turtle pointed out that if they were going to ‘unhallow the unhallow’ than leaving the doors closed would help them defend the area.

Furnock couldn’t find anything that would open the doors, assuming they were ‘magically done’ making it a moot argument. Pertinax used DETECT MAGIC and then IDENTIFY from the Monacle to learn that the boots were of Cat’s Grace +4. There is also a magical ring and a magical cloak; the cloak having diamonds in the shape of the necklace of the firetemple. One of two potions is LESSER RESTORATION.

Furnock proceeds to discover 3 or 4 secret doors and after gathering up our hard-earned plunder thanks to Haversacks, we use Pertinax’s map to go out the secret door that looks to head in the direction of where we have previously been. It does dip down, but so have other corridors and when we see red eyes/hear barking, the plan was to shut the dog up, since it was chained up, making it susceptible to sneak attacks if the rogue had shot at it. (now its loose and ran in back)

We took too long to do this, it barked replies and then bugbears, followed by an ogre, and then giant feet showed up. Then another ogre and some more bugbears showed up during the exchange. Retreating into the ‘-4 to us/+4 to them’ room didn’t seem like a good idea, hence the holding the line. However, grappling appears to be the widespread ram that too easily knocks the line down.

Dan asked if we wanted to freeze the action, and without knowing what spells the pearl of power could recall, we agreed. I would have given anything to have had an area spell. Now, it is all up to a soon-to-be HASTED and fire-sword-wielding Treveylan plus a much more dextrous Sulmia to pull my shelled arse out of the fire.

On 3/27/06, Bell, Daniel (Dan) <daniel> wrote:

Also, to clarify, I should have set the base DC of Turtle's balance check at 10, not 15. Nonetheless, the add to the DC was 7 (difference in grapple check) and 2 for being on the stairs. Total DC was 19, I think Turtle got 17.

HEY! If I’d have known that, I would have rolled it. Actually, I had 2 kinds of rolls last night: Chris-like and lower than Chris-like. The one time I hit with a missiled shield spike, I did a whopping 1 point of damage. My highest roll was a 19- for Pertinax’s initiative.

Momentum of the fall prevented a second balance or reflex to check the fall. That and 450 pounds of bugbear falling with her.

We need to leave the ‘low fat’ iron rations lying around with some ‘headbands of exercise.’

SMG

p.s. the room they are coming out of is triangular-shaped, with the point away from the stairs.

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From the Deep...

After a few days of much needed recouping in town and placing orders, the party adventures back to the Temple, anticipating that the followers have more than likely regrouped and prepared for their return. A forced march will bring the party back to the Temple in good time.

On the trip back to the Temple, the party discusses the idea of debt, again. The half-elf scout stays ahead, trying to determine if new movement or activity has taken place. To his chagrin, there are fresh footprints… or as fresh as a week would allow. This time there are wolves prints, bugbear prints and humanoid prints mingled together in no real pattern. The prints are mingled outdoors, and the tracks lead inside heading toward the rear of the temple going both East and West.

He is about to speak when a thrumming resounds in his ears as he consciously attempt to hear…. he raises his hand for silence and the party’s conversation slowly dies out. Brum… brum… brum… a rhythmic pulsing from what seems to be the only logical place… the temple.

The party decides to head West, choosing to favor a path they are quite familiar with, and have thus far cleared. As the scouting part of the party moves ahead a feminine scream is heard off in the distance, by the scout, and the rogue. They signal to the party and dash off in double time toward the scream, the dual shielded fighter keeping pace with them both. Rounding the corner, the half-elf is only hesitant as he is about to hold his breath, but realizes that he has come farther into the hallway where the party had difficulty breathing before.

The drumming is vastly louder, pierced only in fragments by the screams… and then he sees it off in the distance a monstrous arm bearing a great club the size of a tree, raising and lowering in time with the drumming. Though his heart skips a beat, he does not stop, and sees that Furnock and Turtle both are keeping up with him. Sliding to a halt at the top of the stairs does he see the enormity of the drummer; an ogre, whose eyes are seemingly sown shut, beating down on the massive drums.

His eyes scan the room further to see a priest to the right full adorned in metal, golden skulls adorning his cloak, as well as mask on his face. Another priest is to the left, similarly adorned, but nearly as elaborately. They each stand beside a humanoid shape on alters, that flank…. he nearly lets loose a slight shudder from his lips, as he sees the five-headed lizard laying on the altar… sleeping it would seem, for now.

Without hesitation, he lets fly an arrow at each of the priests, hoping that he will draw their attention away from their sacrifices. The first shot carroms off the priest to the right, the second shot finds its’ mark. He runs down the stairs to the left to keep his focus on the priest he has hit already, and does so. The next few minutes seemed to dragon for years. Drums flying and Turtle fighting with the priest and the Ogre blow for blow. And then from nearly nowhere, a werewolf!! He does what he can to aid those in need, taking shots where he can, careful not to hit his compatriots. He sinks a few more shots into the priest, and then does he realize he is too close. The Ogre, though blind, can seem to sense him, by some unknown sort, perhaps by smell. The Ogre closes the distance between them, and he is no match for such a hulking foe. He tries to doge and avoid the beasts bladed gauntlets, but one slips past his defenses piercing his stomach and drawing forth much blood and gore. Grasping for his last straw, he runs away from the Ogre in a circuitous route, and tries to get past the priest again. The Ogre closes the distance again, this time blasting the blades through his back, blood pouring from his back, his stomach, and his mouth, he staggers toward the priest hoping to get away from the Ogre and the priest, but as he passes the priest lets loose his tentacles whip, striking his lifeblood form its hod as he falls to the ground at the priests feet without a sound.

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NEXT?!

Surveying the carnage admiringly, Turtle lets out a long whistle. She moves over to a werewolf corpse and delivers a boot to its head. “Well that was unexpected.” Walking over to Treveylan she grins and says; “You look like I feel.” And then motions Florent over.

“I will stand guard while Furnock checks the bodies, Florent uses the grace of Helm to heal everyone, and Pertinax sees if we can use any of this equipment. Sulmia, are you and your shadow ok?”

OOG: if its acceptable with Dan, doing the cure spells and DETECT MAGIC ahead of time would be cool, along with using the Monacle’s IDENTIFY on anything that multiple people could wear; magicla boots for example.

Florent says: “This place is most evil. More than simple consecration can redeem, I fear. I ‘ave a scroll of ‘allow, but it is most powerful. It take much time to prepare, and even then I no sure I ‘ave strength of ‘Elm enough to cast it.” Rare moment of humility for Florent, but quickly rushes ahead. “Also, it take 24 hours to cast, and I no sure this is safe or possible now. ‘Owever, I no want to leave such a den of evil to rebuild. I must take time to discern will of ‘Elm”

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recompense
wherein Turtle defends the procdeures & wrangling of the group, her new shields, and what the Shielding Alliance has done where the town has not

Turtle waits for the tirade to end, looking to see if Treveylan wants to speak next. Seeing the half-elf taciturn, she responds. “I think our group has been quite generous with our coin in the town. Moreover, our impact overall has been positive and we are, perhaps, finally accepted. The so-called charts and graphs and argument over ‘coppers’ is what makes things run properly; without order there is chaos and where there is chaos there is evil.

“I am frankly puzzled at the lack of response from the town. It was one thing not to care when it was just us newcomers exploring ruins, rooting out bandits, but the situation has become much more than we can handle on our own, and yet those in Homlett who could join us choose to ignore the danger. They instead build a tower that may matter for nothing. It is THEY who have forgotten their true duties, THEY who have allowed the cancer to return.

It also does not speak well for the Watcher’s Chosen when this all happens in the area they are charged with defending. You should be upset at them, for had we not happened upon each other accidentally, the Temple would have been unchecked completely. As it is we have already seen the absolute destruction of the Earth Temple, and have struck several blows against Fire. Is it only on the 6 of us to do everything?!

No one will be ‘fired’ for lack of success- it is the heart that matters. And while I am sorry that your shadow was hurt in that battle, it would not have happened if we had been told about it.”

(she holds up her hand)

“Please do not try to compare your familiar-thing to my new shields, for they are not the same. In any case, the group had at least some idea that my arms would be different if for no other reason that their upgrading was a reason for the much-complained about ten day. The shadow was a complete surprise.

“If we do not make serious preparations, if we do not stop this compulsive ‘we must return immediately’ manner, we will go back unprepared and to our doom, and it will be the town in ruins, and the forces of Evil dividing the spoils.”

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session re-cap.

After watching some Holy Grail, Turtle was able to convince Florent that looking for the bedrooms of the 3 ‘evil adventurers’ (the half-orc cleric, the wizard, and the other guy) would be worth checking the 2 doors. He also was astute in his calculation that this room would be similar in size to the other bedchamber.

Pertinax had hypothesized that heading out from the South door would lead back to the Temple’s main entrance, and, given the average size of the rooms encountered so far, would be reached in 3-4 rooms.

Florent was able to convince, via suggestions of close treasure, a reluctant Sir Robin (aka Furnock) to press on, and he found traps on neither door. Turtle opened the Southern door first, into some kind of evil throne room devoted to fire, complete with skulls and tapestries. The half-Elf switched spots with her, and noticed that the emblem on the tapestries was the same as on the back of Feldron’s cloak. (i.e a big red skull)

There was an OOG discussion about the realistic-ness of Taking 20 to Open Locks/Find Traps, particularly in regard to obnoxiously high Halfling rogues.

Turtle opened the other door, and it indeed appeared to be another bedroom. Of obvious note was a bronze chest, which Furnock was able to get open and a small box. {I believe there were scrolls inside, among them SHOUT, REMOVE CURSE, and TRUE STRIKE, one of my favorite spells.

Hearing voices/sounds from the South (from the throne room) the gang decided to call it a day, with the half-elf and Turtle pushing yet another bed against the door. Pertinax got slightly pyro-istic, using his 2 flasks of oil to set the bedroom and the pillow room on fire.

Turning around the corner to head back, we spied 2 bugbears and some archerish dude who shot fire arrows at us. The soon-to-be-named Shielding Alliance formed (what else) a shield wall) and proceeded to try some missile fire/non-wanded Mahjaynar at them, with limited succes. Florent had finally decided to use his tower shield the way it was meant to be used, taking full cover, and then repeatedly asking what the plan was. Sulmia used both her shadow and a decoy shadow on one of the bugears.

After there was a lot of missing with a bunch of Sulmia/Treveylan arrows from behind the shield wall, Turtle charged, got whacked by a bugbear’s AoO that ‘felt like you’ve been hit by a giant.” We were able to dispose of the bugbears thanks to some HIGH ELVEN VENGEANCE but not before one of them swallowed a potion of healing. {sigh}

The fire-fighter proved to be a little trickier, wielding a flaming longsword and axe. Pertinax missed with his arrows and a RoE, but used the Pearl of Power to get a DETECT MAGIC to learn that the banded mail (which apparently still exists in 3.5 even though no one ever wears it) was magical.

We sleddishly dragged it and the other armors to safety, and then Florent, in a rare moment of wisdom, suggested we go back to town. We headed back, having the infamous “Conversation B’ along the way, thereby officially becoming the Shielding Alliance featuring Trevelan, along with fugitives from a racist Elf King. (As if there was any other kind)

Pertinax was mindful in using the monacle to IDENTIFY items, learning that the longsword was a longsword +1, +2D6 flaming damage. There were actually 3 pearls available in town, and most of the other stuff was +1, except for suit of half-plate which was ‘protection from good’ or some crap. Turtle suggested it was time to finally buy a BEAD OF BLESSING, whereupon Sulmia bought 6 potions of Cure Serious Wounds. She and Turtle had it out about the sense of spending half of what the bead would cost on one-shot potions.

Pertinax headed up to meet with Burns about how to kill a fire-breathing hydra, and see if he could trade scrolls/get ink for his spellbook. Turtle and the gang stopped by the alchemist shop to pick up their much-waited tanglefoot bags/flash pellets.

The shopkeeper harrangued them for not getting it last week, for which the group blamed the over-eager Elf for his Hoody-Con demands to “let’s go kill something.”

Dan mentioned starting earlier next week. We all decided to call it a night around 10, as everyone was beat and stopping at town seemed a logical point. Dan will email XP for the encounters, roleplaying in session, and last week’s dozens of emails.

SMG

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