Slain by Elf

The soldiers have been prevented from slaughtering some travellers, with only one soldier being dropped in the brou-ha-ha. We may have to explain that to the authorities at some point, but, then, these soldiers are the authorities. We leave the implications of our situation to one side for the moment, as we need to decide whether to let the travellers and soldiers go their separate ways without supervision. We have our own mission to consider, but will the soldiers just follow the travellers and kill them when we're no longer looking?

'I'm not interested', says Salvador. 'We're working towards the greater good, and we have to get to Bresk.'

I tend to agree. 'Out of sight, out of mind. We should move on.'

Thrak, however, suddenly gains a conscience. 'What? Am I the only good person in the party?'

'What? You?! Good?!'

'No, you're not', says Aggar. 'I am.'

He has a point, particularly when I point out to Thrak that we won't get paid for escorting the travellers. 'Okay, let's move on. There are limits to my goodness.' Yes, limits that we seem to hit with stunning regularity.

We are travelling to Bresk, a city in a different country, to negotiate something. I'm sure we'll remember the mission when we get there. The main problem at the moment is that the seasons are shifting, and what was relatively balmy weather is turning wintry. I suppose there's no longer a fire forest keeping everything warm any more.

'It's good that our Indomitability's Boon protects us not just from heat but cold', says Salvador, our walking source of exposition. 'It acts as a permanent Endure Elements spell.'

'Excellent', says Thrak, 'I can run around in my pants!'

'Just because you can doesn't mean you should. Or will.' Thankfully, we come across a caravan being harassed by soldiers, distracting Thrak from his disrobing by presenting some targets. Whether the targets are the wanderers or soldiers, we're not sure yet.

Taking a break from saving the world can only last so long, and it comes as no surprise that we are soon called in to a meeting at the Lyceum. As we walk through the courtyard, past the students practicing their magic, one of the students notices us. He seems to be somewhat awed by our presence.

'I'm not surprised', says Thrak, 'I am awesome, and have a powerful aura.'

'Yes, there is a surprising amount of filth and woodland creatures in your beard.'

'Does he come up to us?' No, he doesn't, the student keeps practicing his magic, albeit rather distractedly. 'That's probably for the best, with the effect I have, he would be in danger if he came closer to me.'

'True, true. The rest of us have all come close to dying from being too close to you quite a few times.'

We break Cal out of gaol, the commander convinced that we are transferring the prisoner, and head towards the swamp. It is indeed a dangerous area, and we'd surely be sucked in to quicksands if we didn't have a guide.

By following Cal's path, we manage to make it to a clearing with an ancient tree. As we gaze upon at the willow tree, a female figure appears.

'She's a dryad', says Nerrick, 'we should kill her, they're dangerous.'

'Nope, it's clearly an Erinyes devil', says Chi Ling, given the overly familiar miniature that's being used.

'No it's not, it's just that I had the miniature close to hand', says the GM, trying to reassure us.

'Of course you did. I bet you thought 'I'll need that later'.'

It seems we could make use of Mad Cal, imprisoned back at the base camp, after all. New companions want to head in to a swamp, and Cal is the only man known to have made it both in and out of there alive.

Either we can convince the commander to let him come with us, a plan which is unlikely to succeed, or break him out, which is kind of illegal. We naturally lean towards the illegal option.

Nerrick wonders about the powers of our druid. 'Earnest, why don't you turn in to a mouse, go through the bars, turn Cal in to a mouse, and both come out?'

'There are a few things wrong with that plan, Nerrick.'

'Name one.'

'I can't turn someone else in to a mouse.'

'Name a second.'

'I can't turn in to something as small as a mouse anyway.'

'...a third?'

'I can't turn someone else in to a mouse. Now I know that's technically the first again, but I thought it was important enough to mention twice.'

We stick with the illegal option, though. The agreed plan is for me to create a forged document requesting a prisoner transfer from cell block 1138, and having other members of the party standing handily nearby when the commander needs to find some rubes to make the transfer.

I make the forgery, and outside of the fort disguise myself as a courier. I bring the forged letter to the gates of the fort and convince the guard to take it to the commander. The commander reads the letter and comes out of his office, beckoning Chi Ling and Nerrick over, who just happen to be nearby.

'Are you feigning surprise? It's very convincing.'

'No, this is genuine surprise that our forgery fooled him and the plan is working.'

Tracing the bandits who attacked the fort finds their camp, and in their camp are the few bandits who retreated from their failed assault. Not for much longer.

Chi Ling goes hand-to-axe with Lord Humungous, the bandit boss, as Pasha assists by putting a few of the supporting bandits in to a magical sleep. This gets Lord Humungous's attention, and gets even more of his attention when he sees our wizard.

'I remember you!' Indeed he does. As we forced the bandits in to retreat back at the fort, Pasha took a moment to flip Lord Humungous off with a giant Mage Hand spell. Thinking he won't step away from fighting our monk, he does it a second time. Think again, Pasha.

Lord Humungous strides away from Chi Ling, bitch-slaps Pasha in to unconsciousness, and strides back to continue fighting the monk. Maybe goading a fighter is not the best use of a wizard and his spells after all.

'You can buy supplies from the outpost at 25% above normal market cost.'

'Neat. I'll buy some studded leather armour with my new-found wealth. Can I sell them my old armour?'

'Yep, at 50% below market values.'

'Right-o. Hmm, can I sell them my old potions of healing?'

'I suppose so, but it doesn't sound like good financial sense.'

'I don't think you're getting my meaning.'

'Oh, you mean a used potion.'

'Now you're getting it.'

'Like the empty bottle.'

'Yep, like a deposit on a bottle of pop.'

'Okay, sure, they'll give you a copper piece for each returned bottle. It won't add up to much.'

'Au contraire, judging by our adventures so far, we'll soon be rich!'

We're managing to repel the bandits attacking the fort so far, preventing a breach from those trying to climb over the walls. As any bandits climbing their ladders are struck down, their ladders are pushed back off the wall to inconvenience them.

Everyone gets stuck in, including our wizard. Pasha sees a ladder against the fort. 'Is this guy holding the ladder?'

'Yep.'

'Okay. Hmm.' There is a long pause as our wizard considers the situation. 'I'm wondering if I can use my Mage Hand spell to push the ladder away from the wall.'

'You're standing right next to it. You could use your actual hand.'

'Oh yeah. I'll do that.' Maybe he can say some fancy words as he pushes, to make it seem more magical.

We turn up at a newly erected outpost in time to help defend it from frontier bandits. Oh joy. We fortify a few places and get armed and armoured for the assault, as we see forty or so bandits approach from the east.

The bandits' front line rushes towards us as we exchange volleys of arrows with them and their rear line of archers. We can't stop them all in time. The bandits reach the fort, slamming their ladders against the walls, readying to climb.

'Hey, that's not fair', says Pasha, 'having a ladder right in front of me'. Our wizard is feeling a bit squishy.

'Yeah, it probably is a bit unfair. Move it to be right in the middle of you lot.' And he does move it to be right in the middle of us. Right in front of me, in fact. Damn that wizard and his charm spells.

'When do you want cake?'

'Cake?! We shall feast on the bodies of our enemies!'

'We did that last week. We've got cake this week.'

'We did? We ate the bandits?'

'The wolves. But good job flipping from barbaric to squeamish within seconds.'