31 May 2021
⏪ Previous - Session 14
The party
·
Kisandra Starlight –Half-Elf Sorceress (Heather)
·
Barendil Dawnwood – Elf Ranger (Robert)
·
Guillerme don d’Lyonne – Human Paladin (Martin)
·
Friar Buck Norris – Human Cleric (Silas)
·
Nobby Nobbs – Human (probably) Rogue (Tom)
Escape From Thundertree
It had been a busy day. The party had completed their
exploration and liberation of Thundertree from the monsters that inhabited its
ruined buildings, so they retired to Brida’s cottage for a well-earned rest and
a hearty meal of rations around the fire. Soon, night had fallen, and the adventurers
had taken to their beds; Buck was snoring loudly within moments of his head
hitting the pillow while Guillerme slept fitfully, dreaming of dragon heads on
mantlepieces and the accompanying, though unlikely, praise from a proud father.
Kisandra settled herself as far away from the noisy pair as she could, reading
by candlelight before going to sleep herself.
By the middle of the night, Nobby stood outside smoking yet another drooping roll-up as Barendil quietly prowled round the building, keeping a sharp lookout for anything untoward, having already meditated for a couple of hours and therefore feeling fairly fresh. Aside from the snuffling and snorting coming from within the cottage as Buck continued to snore, the night air was still and cold. No, wait… there was something. A different snuffling noise, possibly the sound of feet gently padding on the ground out in the darkness. Cocking his ear, the ranger focused his attention to try and determine what it was that he could hear – was it some small nocturnal animal looking for its dinner or something more ominous?
Barendil could discern the noises as coming from something
larger than a badger or a fox, and the padding feet sounded like it was several
somethings and none of them were four-legged animals. He decided that he needed
to investigate, but conscious of previous encounters with monsters such as the
Owlbear that attacked their camp some time ago, Barendil kicked open the door
to Brida’s cottage to alert his companions for some support.
Nobby was already awake, he’d been dozing in his armour
(nobody wanted him stripping off the only flimsy barrier between his odorous
body and the outside world, particularly in such a confined space). Kisandra was
swiftly awoken by the sound, swiftly kicking Buck’s bed to rouse the cleric. He
stirred slightly but immediately jumped out of bed once Nobby gave his ears a
little stroke, suddenly very awake. Dressed in a long nightshirt, he grabbed
his axe and shield and rushed to the door where Barendil stood looking out into
the darkness. As Buck moved, he looked around but couldn’t see Brida anywhere
within the cottage.
Guillerme was the last to finally rouse himself, sitting up
in his silk pyjamas with a yawn and looking around for the cup of tea that was
customarily placed beside his bed by an attendant servant. Even after his time
on the road with his companions, he still felt a little surprised each time he
woke up to find this hadn’t happened.
Nobby joined Mr. Barendil and headed out into the night. The
elf ranger led him confidently forwards into the gloom while the rest of the
companions waited in the cottage doorway. Kisandra could see the two figures
moving away from them with her sharp half-elf eyes, though the world appeared
in shades of grey away from the glow emanating from the fire within. Barendil
was heading in the direction of the sound; he could tell that the creatures
were moving towards the centre of town – presumably towards the stinking dragon
corpse. However, as he and Nobby approached, the stench of death intensified.
Was it possible that these creatures, whatever they were, smelt even worse than
the rapidly decomposing dragon?!
Peering into the darkness as they stalked forwards, Barendil
saw several creatures with pale skin slipping between the shadows. These
horrific apparitions were moving with a loping gait, shoulders hunched, but looked
around themselves with keen animal intelligence. Though they stunk of death,
they did not resemble the shambling zombies encountered in Thundertree so far,
appearing to have far more self-awareness. One of them stopped to sniff the air
and turned to look directly at Barendil and Nobby, clearly having detected
their scent.
 |
| A small group of ghouls searching for a meal of dragon flesh in Thundertree |
Barendil recognised these monsters. They were ghouls, vicious
corpse-eaters, infused with abyssal energy to keep them in a state of unliving
even after death, driven by an insatiable desire for flesh. He called back a
warning to Kisandra and the others.
“What the hell?” exclaimed Buck, “I thought we cleaned this
place out!”
It appeared that the ghouls had been drawn into the town
from the surrounding forest, following the stench of dead dragon which had
become so pervasive that even the less-attuned noses of the humans could smell
it throughout the small town. Who knew wat other denizens of the forest might
also be drawn to Thundertree for a meal of dragon flesh…
For now, the ghouls needed to be dealt with and so Barendil told
Nobby to fire his crossbow as the elf drew his bow. Unfortunately, Nobby couldn’t
see so well in the dark and so his bolt flew wide. Barendil was more
successful, hitting one of the ghouls with an enchanted arrow that spread a
hail of thorns in all directions, spraying the nearby abominations with
piercing missiles. Satisfied with his bowmanship, Barendil displayed
uncharacteristic cowardice and ran away from the ghouls. Nobby looked up in
surprise as he finished digging a finger deep into his cavernous nostril,
looking around and realising he was standing alone in front of the undead
monsters.
Kisandra moved forwards towards where Nobby was stood so
that she could make out the figures of the ghouls ahead of him and fired a
Magic Missile spell which slammed magical darts of energy into two of the
ghouls. Though they were battered by Kisandra and Barendil’s attacks, the
ghouls had the scent of human(ish) flesh in their nostrils and scampered
forward, surrounding Nobby with desperate hunger in their eyes. Nobby couldn’t help
but feel like he had been ruthlessly offered up as a sacrifice by Mr. Barendil,
but figured the ranger probably had some sort of plan in place. Probably…
Filthy, sharp claws reached out towards Nobby, attempting to
pin him down, but he was too slippery for three of the beasts. One of them
managed to scratch his arm, drawing blood, but the rogue was able to shake off
the paralysing effects of the ghoul’s talons – Nobby had been exposed to far
more virulent substances in the past.
Friar Buck decided that it would be most sensible to cast
Shield of Faith on himself, to provide more protection than his nightshirt
provided, then circled around to prepare to attack the ghouls as soon as he saw
an opening. Finally joining the others, Guillerme tried to shoot his crossbow
into the darkness but the shot went wild. Though he had decided to stand as far
away from the fighting as he could, he had heard Nobby’s cry of pain when he
was attacked and so placed a Shield of Faith on his companion to afford him some
additional protection against the predations of the ghouls.
For his part, Nobby thrust his rapier into the face of what
appeared to be the leader of the ghouls, stabbing straight through and dropping
the monster to the ground. He deftly drew his sword free and slipped away from
the other ghouls, retreating into the shadows near to where Buck was standing. Barendil
shot another arrow directly into the group of ghouls, which again spread a Hail
of Thorns in all directions – Nobby hoped that Mr. Barendil only did this
because he had vacated the area, but it was hard to tell. Another ghoul was
dispatched by the magical thorns.
Kisandra fired another Magic Missile at the two remaining
ghouls as they began to run towards her – once again, Barendil had skipped
backwards, away from the evil creatures. The ghouls struck at Kisandra with
their claws, causing her Staff of Defence to glow brightly and envelop the
sorceress in a Shield that deflected one of the blows. Unfortunately, the
second ghoul managed to rake her with its claws, scratching Kisandra but
failing to cause her any other ill effects. At that moment, a shrieking vision
in white came rushing towards the combat, but it wasn’t a ghost, it was merely
Buck in his flowing nightgown. The cleric swung his axe, decapitating the ghoul
that had just wounded Kisandra and positioning himself to help defend her
against the final remaining abomination.
Feeling that he couldn’t be outdone by Buck, again,
Guillerme also rushed forwards, the silk of his pyjamas swishing as he closed
the distance. Perhaps he was distracted as he realised that Buck’s nightshirt
was somewhat translucent in the glow emanating from the cleric’s magical axe or
perhaps Guillerme felt some chafing from his pyjamas, realising that perhaps
they weren’t 100% silk as he had been told; either way, the swing with his
glaive went wide. It was up to Nobby to finish off the final ghoul, so he
sidled up behind it and stuck his rapier through the nape of its neck. He
seemed nonplussed about the distraction of Buck’s nightshirt. The party
congratulated one another on a team effort in defeating these enemies.
With the ghouls dealt with, the party returned to Brida’s
hut to sleep for a few more hours before morning. They discussed what to do
about the dragon corpse, which would likely attract more scavengers over time,
but Buck was more concerned about the rotting dragon head that Guillerme had
kept as a trophy – the cleric felt that it made them a target for any hungry
beasts in the wilds. The rest of the party didn’t share his concerns quite so
keenly, and Guillerme kept quiet to not draw attention to the matter.
“We should hang that thing outside at least,” said Buck, pointing
at the head. “I’m not getting out of bed again if another pack of ghouls turn
up to eat it!” And with that, the Friar went to bed and was soon snoring once
again.
Back on the Road
The rest of the night passed without incident. In the
morning, the party awoke and saw a barn owl fly in through the chimney as the
sun began to shine through the windows of the cottage. Landing on the hearth
rug, the owl turned back into Brida the druid, who picked up a cup of water and
nodded to the party before asking them what had happened outside during the
night. They explained the encounter with the ghouls.
“Ah, I was afraid of that,” said the druid, “that dragon is
really going to start stinking up the place. That’s why I was away during the
night – I was searching for assistance to help bury the carcass. Fortunately, I
found a couple of bears in the forest that are happy to come and help bury the
corpse on the outskirts of the town, which should help reduce the attraction to
scavengers. Frankly, you were lucky it was just a few ghouls that came looking
for food, it could have been far worse…”
Pleased that things were settled in Thundertree, for now at
least, the party thanked Brida for their assistance and Barendil buffed a
brooch on his cloak and nodded at the druid. Noticing the gesture, Kisandra
asked him what he had there.
“Well, I didn’t want to make Buck jealous,” began Barendil, “but
Brida gave me this lovely clasp for my cloak and inducted me into the Emerald
Enclave. The Enclave is made up of druids, rangers and the like, who work to
maintain the balance between nature and civilisation, and I’m certainly proud
to be amongst their number!”
Nobby shook his head – he never got given anything nice, he
always had to take it for himself. But, looking round the room, it seemed that
everyone liked Brida so he took the few trinkets out of his pockets that he had
been planning on stealing and put them back where he found them. It seemed like
the right thing to do.
 |
| Barendil's brooch, denoting his membership of the Emerald Enclave |
The party departed Thundertree, proud of their efforts to
liberate the town. They began to march down the road, very conscious of where
Guillerme and his stinking dragon head was in relation to the wind direction. There
was no interruption to their march during the first day, and they made good
progress along the High Road. That night, they discussed whether they should
light a fire or not – on the one hand, Guillerme’s pack might draw in more
scavengers, that a fire could scare off. But, on the other hand, a fire would
make them more conspicuous in the darkness. In the end, the group agreed to
light a fire, which paid off as they kept warm and nothing attacked during the
night.
During the next day, as they walked down the road they heard
a series of noises coming from the trees to the west of the road. A series of
hoots and whistles were coming from somewhere in the wood, and they a0ppeared to
be getting closer. It seemed likely that whatever was making the noise was likely
to intercept the party while they were on the road. Kisandra, Barendil and Nobby
moved swiftly to the cover of the trees on the opposite side of the road from where
the noise was coming from, while the ranger sent Perry flying high to keep a
lookout. The bird had returned the previous day from sending their messages to
Phandalin but had carried no replies.
Buck and Guillerme were slower to get into the cover of the
treeline and, as they watched, a group of feathered beasts burst from the
foliage on the other side of the road. Six lithe, green bodies with powerful
legs under them darted forwards, using feathered wings to stabilise themselves
as they ran. Long, snapping orange beaks hissed and spat at the adventurers as
these reptilian and avian hybrids swung round and flocked towards them.
 |
| Hybrid reptilian/avian creatures burst from the trees and onto the High Road |
Friar Buck rubbed the magic ring that he had been gifted by
Santa during their wintery adventure through the portal in White Willow Farm,
feeling the way that it unlocked his mind to a greater understanding of what
these creatures were doing. His intuition told him that these creatures were
hungry predators and that they had been following a scent for some days – a
scent they had now found. When Buck mentioned this to the group, they all
looked disapprovingly at Guillerme and shook their heads in annoyance.
There was nothing for it, they would have to fight these
predators. Kisandra empowered a Magic Missile with additional arcane energy,
sending four force darts zooming out from her hiding spot in the trees to smack
into the flanks of two of the creatures. Nobby followed this up with a crossbow
bolt that flew wide as the raptors whooped and rushed forwards, swarming Buck
and Guillerme who were still out in the open. One of the creatures leapt at
Buck, aided by its fellows that were snapping at his ankles, and bit deep into
his arm. The force of the attack also pushed the cleric over onto his back as
he desperately tried to fend off the three savage beasts and, as he fell down,
a jolt of lightning surged back at his attacker and made the creature stagger
backwards, its feathers standing on end.
The other three beasts attacked Guillerme, with two of them
snapping and slashing at the paladin, tearing chunks from his skin. He was also
knocked to the ground. Barendil’s attempt to shoot one of his attackers failed
as the beasts were moving in a frenzy to try and finish off the paladin. As he
attempted to stand up, Guillerme dropped his guard and was set upon by two of
the beasts once again who slashed and snapped at him, injuring the paladin
further. Breathing hard, Guillerme swayed and cast Shield of Faith on himself
to provide some more protection from the raptors, then smashed his glaive down
onto the head of one of the beasts. It took much of his remaining strength, but
the creature’s head was cleaved into two halves by the swinging polearm and it
dropped, dead, to the ground.
Buck remained on the ground, fending off the raptor beaks
while he murmured a prayer to Kord before holding his sacred symbol aloft and
lashing out with a Thunderwave that threw one of the beasts backwards with such
thunderous force that it broke its back on a tree across the road. The other
two, however, stood their ground as the thunder buffeted them and were prepared
to strike as Buck leapt daringly to his feet. Unfortunately for the cleric,
these two raptors managed to leap on to him and bite down, hard. One of them hit
a vital point and blood sprayed from Buck as he fell, crashing to the ground. As
he slipped into unconsciousness, his final thought was of Droop the goblin and
the realisation that they must have left the poor little creature in Thundertree
when they marched out of the ruined town the previous day.
Watching Buck fall, Kisandra knew that the only way to save
him was to kill the remaining raptors, fast. She threw a Magic Missile at them,
lifting two raptors off their feet as they were thrown backwards and killed by
the small force bolts. Nobby decided to help Guillerme out once again, though
his sword was less accurate than normal, and he was unable to hit the feathered
beast in front of him. In a dramatically uncharacteristic bout of
self-sacrifice, Nobby actually interposed himself between the beast and the
paladin, in an effort to protect his severely wounded companion. The sight of
this surprised the rest of the party, but Guillerme was clearly grateful.
Nobby was rewarded for his bravery as the raptor failed to
bite the slippery rogue – perhaps the beast was just as surprised as everybody
else by his actions. The last beast ran forwards to Kisandra, having seen her
kill several of its flock, but it was unable to bite her effectively. Barendil
tried to kill the beast that was attacking the sorceress, but again his aim was
off and the arrow flew off into the trees.
Having had a slight reprieve thanks to Nobby, Guillerme fought
all his natural instincts that suggested he should save his skin and run away
into the woods. Instead, he bravely remained next to the rogue, but decided to
use his healing Lay on Hands ability to recuperate slightly, with the expectation
that he could help Nobby fight the beast better if he was less injured.
Buck, lying face down in the dust, groaned and moved
slightly. He wasn’t quite dead yet, but he was a long way from standing up. Meanwhile,
Kisandra had a raptor in her face, so she charged up her hand and delivered a
punishing Shocking Grasp to the beast, singing its feathers and driving it back
slightly. She felt surprisingly powerful using this sort of destructive magic
up close and personal for a change.
On the road, Nobby looked over at Buck, wondering what he
should do. He wanted to help the cleric to his feet, but he also had a raptor
in front of himself to worry about… as if struck by a flash of inspiration, he
suddenly felt like he could hear Buck’s voice in his head, saying ‘kill the
abomination’. So he did, stabbing the beast through the heart with his rapier.
As it dropped to the ground, he wondered if it was Buck’s voice in his head
again, asking him for the kiss of life, or whether that was just what Nobby
wanted to hear. Either way, he looked over at the prone cleric and raised his
eyebrows.
One final raptor beast remained. Barendil threw down his bow
and rushed in with his sword raised but had no more luck with that weapon than
he had with his bow – for some reason he was finding it difficult to hit these speedy
creatures. His bad luck was as nothing compared to Guillerme, however, who ran
over to try and hit the same beast but tripped over a tree root and caught his
arm on one of the spikes on its tail.
Kisandra shook her head at Guillerme before summoning more
electrical energy into her hand and grasping the creature’s head. This time,
she didn’t let go. The beast writhed and sparked, screeching as loud as it
could before it finally stopped moving all together. She looked down at the
dead animal and considered the behaviour of these creatures; there was something
in it that she recognised. Then, it came to her – these raptors acted just as a
textbook example of a pack of wolves. The coordinated attacks, swift and
powerful lunges to knock their opponents down. They certainly looked nothing
alike, but she now saw the resemblance was uncanny.
Shaking his head, Barendil apologised to the group for his
performance during the battle. He felt sorely ashamed of his inability to hit
the creatures and felt responsible for the injuries suffered by Buck and
Guillerme. Wandering over to the fallen cleric, Barendil shoved Nobby out the
way before he could complete whatever ‘first aid’ he was attempting, and
instead drew on his magical knowledge to bring Buck back from the brink of death.
The Friar sat up slowly, blinking his eyes. He was starting to feel better, but
he ached all over.
They continued onwards along the road for a short time, but
the light was fading, and Buck’s strength was sapped. As the party made camp
that night, Buck took Guillerme to one side.
“I understand your need to improve your standing with your
father,” began Buck, “but that thing is going to get us killed. Is there nothing
we can do?”
Guillerme indicated down the road and said that they were
almost at Phandalin, he could almost see it in the distance. He begged with
Buck to be patient and apologised for the injuries suffered by the cleric, but
he really did not want to give up the dragon head trophy.
“I’ll tell you what,” pleaded Guillerme, “I promise, I will
owe each of you a reasonably good favour when this is done.”
In response to the look on Buck’s face, the paladin pressed
on.
“I come from a long line of people where, well, you know, a
reasonably good favour is actually quite good in the scheme of things,” Guillerme
said without a hint of irony.
By this time, the rest of the party had wondered over to the
pair, looking with incredulity at Guillerme. Yet still he continued.
“I am indebted to you all,” he said as he looked around at
the group. “To a degree.”
Not understanding their quizzical looks, Guillerme nodded
his head cheerfully and wandered over to his bed roll to settle down for the
night.
Before heading to his own bed, Buck thanked Nobby sincerely and
congratulated him for his bravery in the previous battle.
“Perhaps Kord favours you, my son,” said the Friar as he
shook Nobby’s oddly moist hand.
The adventurers slept beneath the stars that night and, in
the morning, completed the rest of their journey to Phandalin.
Errands in Phandalin
The party wandered back into the familiar town of Phandalin.
Perry had delivered their messages to the chosen recipients but had not
returned with any replies. The party were therefore a little cautious as they
walked into the town, with Buck wondering if everything was well in Phandalin –
but they couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary as they strolled down the
road in the morning sun.
They discussed how to approach their business within the
town – there were a number of people that they wanted to talk to about current
events as well as a substantial quantity of treasure that Nobby wanted to
fence. There was also the issue of the stinking dragon head that Guillerme carried,
as well as their desire to get some useful items fabricated from the other parts
of the dragon that they had harvested. Not to mention Nobby’s aspirations regarding
a certain fashion item related to a water-dwelling rodent…
Though there was a lot of business to attend to,
particularly in reporting back to their factions and ensuring the safety of
Thundertree now that they had liberated the town, the adventurers also wanted
to make haste to Cragmaw Castle now that they had its location. Despite this,
they decided to remain largely together as a single group, particularly as they
approached Edermath Orchard to report to Daran and find out what the Order of
the Gauntlet recommended. Buck and Barendil led the way, and Guillerme ran up
to them asking them to slow down.
They looked at him sideways, expecting that he would have
hurried on to Sildar’s to talk about Lord’s Alliance business, but Guillerme
was under the impression that he was a member of the Order of the Gauntlet. Holding
their hands up, the cleric and ranger showed him their signet rings and
reminded him of the courier that had caught up to them the last time they left
the town – he had carried a Gauntlet signet ring for each of them, but not one
for Guillerme. He had been sent a gold Lord’s Alliance ring by Sildar, but because
he was unsure about how his allegiances might be split if he joined the second
group, he had never formally accepted the invitation to join. He looked a
little dejected, but Barendil put his arm around the paladin and told him not
to worry, he was sure that Daran would let him in now – after all, the Order of
the Gauntlet prized teamwork and cooperation highly, so the more the merrier as
far as Barendil understood it.
All of the adventurers had now joined at least one faction,
apart from Nobby. The only place he had ever really felt he belonged was in The
Watch, but that felt like a long time ago now. His companions didn’t know whether
he wasn’t interested in joining any larger factions here on the Sword Coast, or
whether he wasn’t considered to have the ‘right stuff’ for them, but he had
proved to be a useful (if occasionally irritating) member of their party and
had certainly contributed his fair share to their achievements to date.
 |
| Buck, Barendil, Kisandra and Guillerme's tokens of allegiance |
Edermath Orchard
Presently, they arrived at Daran Edermath’s orchard. The old
adventurer was pleased to see the party returned and he greeted them warmly. He
confirmed that he had indeed received Barendil’s letter and had spent time
setting various wheels in motion to help the adventurers. Daran had felt it
more important to prepare rather than take time trying to contact them as they
journeyed back from Thundertree.
 |
| Daran Edermath waiting patiently in his orchard |
He had requested a smith all the way from the Order’s hold
in Waterdeep, who had arrived early that morning and was ready to produce the
artifacts they desired, should they have the coin to buy the materials required.
The Order of the Gauntlet would help but did not have the spare funds to pay
for these expensive items. There were no men to spare for helping storm Cragmaw
Castle – the adventurers were on their own with that one.
Barendil updated Daran with the news from Thundertree – that
the dragon corpse was drawing in scavengers, but Brida was burying it with bear
assistance. They had encountered a little trouble on the road but dealt with
the creatures that attacked them.
“I’m very pleased with your progress,” Daran said, “and certainly
your brave actions in Thundertree have been in accordance with the edicts of
the Order of the Gauntlet so I thank you for your service. While you are new to
this road of chivalry, both of you should be commended and word of your actions
will spread through the Order – keep this up and you will soon be awarded
higher rank, respect and reward for your service!”
Buck looked at Daran and said, with some indignation, “You
read the bit in the letter about us killing a dragon, right?”
“Yes, of course,” replied Daran, taking another nonchalant swig
from his mug of cider.
“Before we go, Daran,” began Barendil, “I must say that
Guillerme here, though he was initially reticent to join the Order, has shown
as much bravery and chivalry as the rest of us and I would put his name forward
as a worthy member of the Order of the Gauntlet, now that he knows it will not
conflict with his other responsibilities.”
Edermath nodded with understanding and said, “That is good to know, I’m sure that won’t be a problem. I will pass that on to my superiors to confirm, but I imagine they would be pleased for another of your party to join and help protect the people of the Sword Coast.”
 |
| Buck and Barendil reporting in to Daran Edermath |
“I’ll return to the tavern,” he said to his companions, “and
see you all for a hearty meal this evening.”
Nobby sidled forwards, looking to get his mug of cider
refilled as the others left the orchard. Kisandra said that she wanted to see
SIldar before visiting Sister Garaele – Guillerme of course had a lot to talk
to him about, and Buck was keen to join them too. Barendil said it was on the
way to the pub anyway so he would come along. Nobby hiccupped.
Sildar Halwinter
Sildar had sent himself up comfortably in the Townmaster’s
Hall. He welcomed the companions into his chambers and offered them some
libations, which they happily accepted. Buck took note of the keg of ale on a
side table, while Kisandra noticed the map spread out next to that keg. She
eagerly rushed to examine the map, but found it contained no additional details
when compared to their own map.
 |
| Sildar has made himself quite comfortable in Phandalin |
 |
| Sildar's keg of ale and unrolled map are of interest to different members of the party |
“So, what news?” asked the Lord’s Alliance representative.
Guillerme explained the situation in Thundertree, building
on the letter he had sent to Sildar. He explained his concerns about there
being a power vacuum in Thundertree now, for instance allowing the influx of
ghouls that they had dealt with. The town had no defence against anyone else
moving in.
“What I’m asking,” said the paladin, “is whether the Order
provide some sort of garrison for Thundertree so more gentlefolk may be able to
come back?”
“Well, we are more of an Alliance than an Order, remember,
we leave that kind of religious nut-jobbery to Daran Edermath and his mates,”
said SIldar, “but, having said that, I must say that you have done a great job
in Thundertree and have achieved far more than I ever thought you would.”
Guillerme looked suitably proud of the praise as Sildar
continued, “I am particularly interested in this talk of a three-headed dragon
you mentioned in your letter, what were you talking about…?”
Kisandra interjected at this point, much to Guillerme’s
relief, to let Sildar know that he must have meant Tiamat and had left out two
of the heads when he wrote his letter.
“Tiamat!” exclaimed Sildar, “are you seriously suggesting that
these cultists are looking to raise Tiamat from the Nine Hells?!”
Kisandra nodded her head. “That’s what they told us,” she
affirmed.
“Well, that is obviously something we will have to look at in
the future,” replied Sildar, “as we obviously can’t allow that to happen. But,
more immediately, I am very glad to hear that you have located Cragmaw Castle.
I have been looking through the maps and records here and been unable to find
it anywhere. My suspicion is that this isn’t the original name of the castle
and that the Cragmaw goblins have taken up residence in some older keep which
had been abandoned – which is why I haven’t been able to find it.”
Kisandra helpfully suggested comparing maps to ascertain which abandoned castle had been taken over by the goblins, which SIldar agreed was a sensible thing to do. He took note of the location of Cragmaw Castle as they had it so that he could look into it later on.
 |
| Guillerme reporting to Sildar Halwinter |
“So, you’ll come and help us win the castle back?” asked
Guillerme hopefully.
“No,” replied Sildar firmly. He saw the expression on
Guillerme’s face and continued, “because I agree entirely with your appraisal
of the situation in Thundertree. I have already sent messengers to gather some
troops, but I will be leaving this afternoon to secure the town.”
“What about the repopulation of the town once it is secure?”
asked Kisandra.
“Oh, that will happen,” said Sildar, “that will happen.”
Guillerme cut in to ask Sildar who the mayor of Thundertree
was. He couldn’t remember off the top of his head and said that he would have
to check the records, but he was certain that the mayor was dead.
Barendil then chipped in to tell Sildar about the raptors
that they had encountered on the road back to Phandalin, pointing out where the
corpses lay on Sildar’s map. The ranger was concerned about the rotting corpses
attracting scavengers, so told Sildar to watch out as he travelled up to
Thundertree.
“I appreciate your warning Master Elf, but perhaps you will
clean up your own dead bodies next time?” replied Sildar.
“We were tired…” began Barendil with a little whine to his
voice.
Guillerme asked one last time to confirm with Sildar that he
wouldn’t be helping them personally at Cragmaw Castle, because he was doing to
Thudertree.
“Indeed,” said Sildar, “I can do many things, but I can’t be
in two places at once.”
The paladin nodded and seemed to finally accept the reality
of the situation, before asking one final question.
“Is there a taxidermist or good butcher in town?” he asked.
Sildar confirmed that there was a dwarf who ran a small shop
– pun not intended he said hurriedly as he noticed Barendil’s shoulders shake
with laughter – which should serve Guillerme’s purpose. The dwarf was
proficient in making all sorts of items out of pelts and hides, stuffing
animals for trophies and things like that. Kisandra asked Sildar if this dwarf
would be able to make a man-sized beaver suit. He couldn’t think why anyone
would waste their coin on a man-sized beaver suit, but he expected that the
dwarf would be able to do it easily enough. They looked over at Nobby, who just
grinned.
“On a more serious note, there are previous residents of
Thundertree living here in Phandalin,” Kisandra said, “could you ensure they
have a voice in the rebuilding process?”
Sildar was unaware of this and was surprised to hear Mirna
Dendrar was originally from Thundertree.
“I’ll make a note, thank you for bringing it to my
attention. I agree with you, it’s important to talk to these people. The Lord’s
Alliance has plenty of money and resources to rebuild the town, but it should
be done with respect to those families who were displaced in the tragedy that
befell the town. I’ll look into it, personally,” promised Sildar.
Guillerme nodded appreciatively at Kisandra, trying to
indicate that he was just about to say that. She knew better but she just
nodded back, she was pleased to hear what Sildar said. She now decided it was
time to go and talk to Sister Garaele to relay the new intelligence she had for
the Harpers.
The Shrine of Luck
Kisandra slipped off alone to talk to Garaele in private, walking
into the Shrine of Luck with her pseudodragon following close behind. The priestess
greeted her warmly as Kisandra marvelled at the beautiful stonework; it never
failed to take her breath away. Garaele boiled water to make Kisandra a cup of
tea, and the two women sat down to talk.
Garaele sat, quietly sipping her tea, as Kisandra relayed a
full and frank account of her experiences in Thundertree and her impressions of
what that might mean. The thoroughness of the sorceress’s recollections
impressed the more experienced Harper immensely, and she was especially pleased
to hear of the way that Kisandra had talked productively with Sildar about
involving previous residents of Thundertree – and the positive response she
received from him.
“Very, very wise,” said Garaele. “The Lord’s Alliance do
tend to have their hearts in the right place, but they do need to be watched
sometimes. There is a tendency for everything to turn into numbers and coin,
forgetting that people are at the heart of the matter. That’s where we can come
in, looking out for those people – exactly as you have done, which is
excellent.”
“Sildar is aware of Mirna and her children, but there may be
other previous Thundertree residents that he is unaware of,” said Kisandra.
Garaele assured her that she would check if there were any
such people and would contact Sildar directly if necessary. She would also
ensure someone from the Harpers discreetly kept an eye on the restoration of
Thundertree, exactly as Kisandra had quite rightly suggested.
“You have done fantastic work my dear, you’re going to go far!” said Garaele with a proud smile on her face.
 |
| Kisandra talking to Sister Garaele at the Shrine of Luck in Phandalin |
Further to this, Kisandra asked Sister Garaele about the
dragon harvesting that the rest of the party had been engaged in. Garaele was
well aware of the smith that had been brought to the town by the Order of the
Gauntlet – that sort of thing was impossible to do without Harper agents
noticing. She was confident that this man would be able to help Kisandra’s
friends. Other than that, Garaele simply had some words of caution regarding
the other body parts that had been harvested.
“There are so many rumours about the potency of various body
parts of all sorts of animals and beasts, whether magical or mundane. It’s one
of the reason that so many of these creatures are so near to extinction. Much
of it is total rubbish, but some of it is not… it depends on the specific
rituals and how deeply into the dark magic you want to delve.”
Kisandra nodded her head and the two women continued talking
and drinking their tea within the calm atmosphere of the Luck Shrine.
Bearnivig Blackhammer
While Kisandra sat with Garaele, Buck made his way to the
blacksmith’s forge with Guillerme and Nobby following close behind. As he
approached, he saw a mountain of a man, broad-chested and leaning casually on
the haft of an enormous hammer made of some sort of black rock. Sweat glistened
on his bulging muscles and he stroked his blonde beard as the cleric got closer.
He seemed larger than life, and so completely at home within this forge as to
almost be a part of it, or for the forge to be an extension of his formidable
body. He smiled genially at Buck.
 |
| Bearnivig Blackhammer, a huge man, stands at ease by the forge |
“Hail and well met,” Friar Buck greeted the smith merrily. “I
am somewhat of a smith myself, but I am told you are the expert in your field –
which is just as well, for we have something special to work on. Dragon scales,
from a dragon slain by our own hands. We would be most appreciative if you could
fashion a shield from these scales.”
“Welcome friend,” says the giant man, “I am Bearnivig
Blackhammer, and I was sent here by my masters in the Order of the Gauntlet to
assist you. I am most impressed to hear of this dragon slaying, I congratulate
you on the effort. Now, the blacksmith here in the town was kind enough to let
me use his forge, which I find well appointed, so I am at your disposal.”
Given the size of the man standing in front of him, Buck didn’t
imagine that the incumbent blacksmith had much of a say in the matter. The cleric
drew the scales out from his pack and showed them to Bearnivig, along with a
rough sketch of how he imagined the shield might look. He was particularly keen
to include a symbol of Kord as a boss on the front of the shield, a suggestion
that Bearnivig thought was excellent. He nodded his head that this could
certainly be achieved, and would make a fine shield for Buck to use.
Inevitably, the conversation had to turn towards money and how much this was
going to cost.
“Well…” began Blackhammer, “these things aren’t cheap, I am
afraid. Working with dragon scales, there aren’t many blacksmiths that can do
it, that’s why I was drafted in here at very short notice from Waterdeep – and at
no little expense. In addition to this, there are some rare and expensive
materials required to properly bond the dragon scales together. It is going to
cost four thousand gold.”
“I’m sorry, did you say 400?” asked Buck.
“No. Four thousand.”
Buck was taken aback by this, wondering how in the world
they would afford such a sum. Nobby took advantage of the lull in conversation
to sidle up to the blacksmith and get involved.
“’Ere, mate, how are your cobbling skills?” asked the rogue.
“You know, making boots and such?”
“Cobbling? I am a
blacksmith!” roared Bearnivig, “I am no woman with a needle and thread…
cobbler, ha! Why do you think I have been brought here, it’s because I am
skilled in the use of the forge, not making shoes for little men!”
“Well, it’s all the same innit,” pressed Nobby, “dragon
scales, dragon leather… all just making stuff from bits what was on a dragon. I
mean, I heard you were pretty good, but if you can’t do it…”
Nobby’s smug look turned towards panic as the blacksmith
lifted his mighty hammer and started patting the head into one of his large
hands. The haft of the hammer was taller than Nobby, and this huge man lifted
it like it was nothing. Nobby turned and walked off, pretending that he had
better places to be.
Bearnivig calmed down as Nobby walked off and could see that
Buck was struggling to work out the finances.
“Look,” said the big man kindly, “I can see you don’t have
the funds. We both work for the Order of the Gauntlet, so I want to help you,
but the reality is that you are not the only concern the Order has. There are
other things happening along the Sword Coast and beyond that require attention,
that is part of the reason that this cannot be provided for free. However,
Daran Edermath is very well respected within the Order, and when he received
your urgent message for assistance, he sent one of the fastest hippogriffs in
the Order’s stables to collect me from Waterdeep and bring me here. I dropped
everything and left immediately. If you talk to Daran, he may be able to help
further.”
Buck assured Bearnivig that they very much appreciated his
coming at such short notice, he was just concerned as he had not realised the high
cost involved and didn’t want the smith’s trip to be in vain. He suggested possibly
providing a down payment so Bearnivig could commence work on the shield and the
party could settle the balance later.
“Talk to Daran,” said the smith, “I am sure he mentioned that
he wanted something doing, which may help with the cost.”
Buck looked interested so the smith elaborated that there was
an artifact owned by a hero of the Order of the Gauntlet that had been lost in
a crypt somewhere nearby – Daran had the location mapped. As far as Bearnivig
understood, the Order would be willing to cover 2,500 gold if the party
recovered this item as there would be a substantial saving on not needing to
hire a mercenary band to do it. That would leave a balance of just 1,500 gold
to pay, and he would be willing to start work straight away, which should take
no longer than six or seven days by his reckoning.
 |
| Blackhammer makes an interesting proposition to the party |
Taxidermists R Us
Nobby was delegated to do the shopping – for some reason, he
was still the one entrusted by the group to manage their finances. He sold off much
of the treasure and precious items that they had acquired, some to Barthen’s
Provisions and a good selection of precious and semi-precious stones to the
Miner’s Exchange. He also had a long list of provisions and equipment to buy,
so he did his best to acquire that. While he was there, he asked after the Rockseeker
brothers once again, but still no one had heard anything about the dwarfs. Once
that was all out of the way, he could get down to his exciting business and so
he followed the instructions from Daran to find the small taxidermy shop on one
of the side streets in Phandalin. He was rubbing his hands with glee as he
turned down the street and was surprised to see the entire rest of the party
was already there, waiting at the window of the shop. None of them seemed to
want to go in, but they were all grinning as Nobby approached the door.
 |
| Thorgild Stoutfellow minds his small shop without a care in the world |
“Wotcha, how you doing mate?” said Nobby cheerfully as he
strode in through the door.
A well-dressed old dwarf stood behind a counter and welcomed
Nobby with a little bow. In a polite and quiet voice, he said, “Welcome to my
shop, what can I do for you this fine day?”
Nobby was distracted so didn’t answer him straight away. “You
have some amazing eyebrows,” he said with wonder.
“Oh, well, kind of you to say,” stammered the dwarf, not
sure what to say. “Tell me, do you have some dwarven blood in you, there is
something rather… abhuman… about you.”
Nobby looked quite proud at the question and wandered over
to lean on the counter. Fortunately, the dwarf was a taxidermist by trade so
the odour didn’t affect him like it often did to other people. Nobby slid over
his ‘masterpiece’ so that the dwarf could see what he wanted.
“What would it take to get this made?” asked Nobby. “I’ve
got a load of beaver pelts and a genius idea here, let’s do it!”
Spluttering into his beard, the dwarf couldn’t quite believe
his eyes.
“What is that?” he exclaimed.
Nobby initially tried to pretend it was for his niece’s
birthday, but the dwarf, being a consummate professional, regained his composure.
He said it was one of the strangest commissions he had ever seen, but it could
be done. He thought the construction of the suit would require around 20 beaver
pelts, which he would normally buy for 2 gold pieces from the trappers and
would take 4 or 5 days. The cost of making it would be around 30 gold. Nobby
nodded and asked if it would be any quicker if he were to put 50 gold in the
dwarf’s hand, causing an exclamation of outrage from his companions looking in
through the window! But, as with all dwarfs, this one didn’t miss the opportunity
for a bargain and confirmed he could do it in three days for 50 gold.
The pair settled on the price. Nobby provided the 20 pelts
for the suit, plus another 10 pelts to cover part of the payment. That left 30
gold to pay. He also handed over a couple of sapphires that he wanted mounted
as eyes on the beaver suit. As he did so, he asked the dwarf if he had seen a
piece of Luggage running around on a load of tiny feet. The dwarf raised his
bushy eyebrows – he had thought he had seen it all, until this bizarre human
had come into his shop asking for a huge beaver suit and talking about walking
furniture. It was only the cool feel of the gold in his hand that kept the
dwarf calm.
 |
| Nobby reveals his masterpiece to the dwarf |
The party looked on in amazement at this spectacle. They
gradually realised the cost of what Nobby was doing – essentially, spending
their hard-earned collective treasure on a fever dream he had scrawled on a piece
of paper. Buck wasn’t worried, as he didn’t value material wealth. Barendil was
also happy enough; he didn’t exactly approve, but he had seen Nobby grow during
their time together and figured that, if this was what the guy wanted, that was
OK with him. Guillerme stayed quiet, hopping from one foot to another with
excitement, waiting for his turn to enter the shop with his dragon head.
Kisandra shook her head with bewilderment, not impressed at all, but as far as
Nobby was concerned, he felt that he had earned this by being the one who was
responsibly looting bodies and fencing the treasure whenever they were back in
town. He reckoned he deserved it because he was the one making all the money
for them in the first place.
As he was turning to leave, Nobby suddenly remembered the
other reason he was here, and he pulled out the blue dragon skin that he had
acquired from Stormfang and slapped it onto the counter. The dwarf whistled
through his teeth and rubbed the supple hide, marvelling at its softness and
striking colour.
“Here, what do you think of that?” asked Nobby. “Premium
dragonhide that is, and I’m looking to have some boots made out of it… but not
any boots, mind you, the fanciest boots you’ve ever seen. Toes curling round
like there’s no tomorrow, I want these things to be like winkle pickers on steroids!”
The dwarf nodded with understanding.
“This is the loveliest hide I’ve ever felt,” he said, “I
would love to work on this. Boots, you say? Yes, yes… hmmmmm… well, for such a
commission, 450 gold I would say.”
Nobby was taken aback and Kisandra let out an involuntary
yelp as she read the dwarf’s lips from outside the window. He tried to suggest
a deal where he paid for the beaver suit but got the boots for free, though
that was clearly never going to fly – particularly when trying to bargain with
a dwarf!
“Is there anything you desire… besides financial payment?”
tried Nobby, with a look of feigned innocence on his face.
“I am not sure what you are getting at,” replied the taxidermist,
“but I am a happily married dwarf!”
After some unconvincing bartering by Nobby, they eventually
settled on a combined figure of 450 gold for the boots and beaver suit
together. Nobby shrugged and figured that would do, he would deal with any
potential consequences later. He turned to the window with a slow wink and a
thumbs up to indicate to his companions that everything was going according to plan.
But he did keep his body between the counter and the window as he tallied up
the coins to hand to the dwarf.
As he walked happily out of the shop, Nobby was feeling good
about this. He was getting some fancy boots and a beaver suit, what more could
a scruff from Ankh Morpork desire?
“You guys are lucky,” he said to the party outside the shop,
“I made us a good couple of hundred gold selling the gems and things we found.”
There was some confusion as they were sure that the treasure
haul should have been worth more than that, particularly Kisandra who seemed to
have often taken it upon herself to keep an eye on Nobby’s dealings of late.
But, other than Buck half-heartedly asking for a receipt, they didn’t question
the rogue further and he provided no more details.
Guillerme excitedly pushed past him and into the shop.
“My good, uh, fellow, apologies for my strange companion, my
needs are much more simple,” he said. Guillerme continued in a flurry of excitement.
“All I need is the premium plus service: the boil, polish and wash for dragon
heads. If you can do that quickly for me that would be appreciated. And, tell
me, do you accept the Château d’Lyonne loyalty discount card?”
The dwarf behind the counter looked confused. “Château d’Lyonne
loyalty discount card?” he asked, “never heard of it. Never heard of the Château
d’Lyonne for that matter!”
He started muttering to himself about out-of-towners coming
in and throwing strange ideas around, and how it had been such a busy day with
two customers coming in for commissions. He felt rushed off his feet. But,
getting back to business, he was very impressed by the dragon head that
Guillerme deposited on the counter and confirmed he could strip the flesh and
polish the skull in 3 days or so, at a cost of sixty gold. Guillerme seemed to
think this was reasonable enough but continued trying to press his loyalty card
on the dwarf. From what he could tell, the card that this strange paladin was
thrusting under his nose was just a scrap of paper with some poorly spelled
handwritten message about ‘reasonable’ trading opportunities with the Château d’Lyonne.
Guillerme’s sales patter wasn’t going to convince this thrifty dwarf to accept
this card in lieu of gold.
It quickly became evident that Guillerme did not have enough
money on his person to pay for the ‘premium plus service’ that he desired. He
also asked for the dwarf to arrange transport for the skull back to the Château,
which was going to cost an additional 30 gold pieces if it was required on top
of the sixty gold for the work – though they could deal with that later.
“Ah, well, I am a little light on funds. Perhaps I can put
down a deposit today? What would you accept?” asked Guillerme hopefully.
“Sixty gold,” came the reply.
With nervous laughter Guillerme patted his pockets and
looked towards the door.
“Your strange friend paid upfront, in full, sir,” said the
dwarf.
Guillerme went to seek Nobby’s help. The rogue laughed at
Guillerme’s predicament.
“Oh, how the rich have fallen,” he said with a toothy grin.
Guillerme started to ask Nobby what his share of the current
treasure should be, but the rogue just pushed past him and went back into the
shop to negotiate. He agreed a combined price of 500 gold for all the work that
the dwarf was performing for both members of the party. Nobby tried his best to
illicit some additional sales incentive from the dwarf, but the best he could
manage was a promise for a round of drinks that evening. Still, that was quite
an achievement given the frugal nature of dwarves.
The Happy Family
Nobby was particularly pleased with himself. He’d sorted out
Guillerme’s dragon head problem – he didn’t think Guillerme’s brother Philip
would have ever sent home a dragon skull trophy. Plus, he had his beaver suit
and blue dragon skin boots on the way. Things were good, so he was absentmindedly
picking at his belly button fluff and paying no attention whatsoever to the
rest of the party.
The rest of the party was discussing their next errand,
which was particularly close to Kisandra’s heart, though they were all keen to
return the valuable heirloom to Mirna Dendrar and her family. They had ended up
with more than they bargained for in Thundertree when they had travelled to the
town, looking for the heirloom, and had managed to keep it safe from the
predations of dragons, zombies, ghouls and Nobby’s sticky little fingers. They were
all invested in seeing the culmination of this little tale.
They expected to find Mirna and her family at the Stonehill
Tavern, but as they were walking in that direction Kisandra spotted the
Dendrars outside a small house. She waved to them from across the road and the
three of them smiled at her warmly.
“Oh, hello, how nice to see you again!” Mirna said with
delight as she hugged Kisandra. “Please, come in, won’t you have a cup of tea?”
“Perhaps some of my companions should stay outside…”
suggested Kisandra, but Mirna would hear none of it. The whole party had saved
her and her two children, so she was indebted to them all and glad to see them.
She said she couldn’t thank them enough for what they had done to save the
family from the evil clutches of the Redbrands.
The party sat around the small table in the tiny parlour,
trying not to knock over what few items there were in the room. Mirna served
them hot tea from whatever she could find, as she quickly ran out of cups. The
atmosphere was jovial already but the rest of the adventurers watched with
bated breath as Kisandra reached into her pack. They had been waiting for this
moment. The sorceress drew out the gorgeous necklace that they had recovered from
Thundertree and handed it to Mirna with reverence, telling her that they all felt
that it should be returned to its proper place with her and the children.
“My necklace… by all the gods… have you really brought it
back to me?” Mirna said as she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably with the joy
of her heirloom being returned. She hugged her children close to her and thanked
the adventurers repeatedly, before jumping up and throwing her arms around
Kisandra.
“You are a wonderful person, to have done so much for us
when we have nothing to give you in return save our thanks and appreciation,”
Mirna said. “I can’t believe there is such goodness in this world.”
Kisandra followed on by telling Mirna about the plans that were being put into place by Sildar to rejuvenate Thundertree and that the Dendrars were welcome to have a hand in that. Mirna was overjoyed by the news. She had a nice life in Phandalin with her husband, but now that he was gone, she thought the opportunity to take her children back to her childhood home of Thundertree was an amazing gift. She didn’t know what to say so the adventurers left the family to their private joy and quietly stepped out into the sunlit street.
 |
| Kisandra warmly greeting Mirna Dendrar and her children |
The End of a Productive Day
As they left the Dendrar’s modest home, the adventurers walked
in silent contemplation, all exceptionally glad in their own way that Kisandra
had pushed so hard for them to return the heirloom to Mirna.
“See, Nobby,” said Buck, putting his arm around the rogue’s
shoulders, “sometimes it is just good to do the right thing.”
Nobby nodded in acceptance of this point, as even he had been
so touched by the emotional event that he found himself putting back the small
trinket that he had been planning to steal from Mirna’s house.
Wandering back towards the inn, the party walked past a man
tending to a couple of ponies and a bit cart horse, surrounded by crates and
barrels. He called over to the adventurers and introduced himself as Saleem,
then asked if they wanted to purchase a pack animal. Nobby went to talk to the
horse trader and have a look at his wares, but decided that they would need to
sleep on the decision. They had, after all, offloaded most of the heavy items
they had been carrying, so didn’t see the need for purchasing an animal at the
moment – plus, he needed to actually count the amount of coin he still had in
his money pouch as it had been a rather expensive day.
 |
| A trader offers to sell pack ponies and draft horses with carts |
They continued on to the Stonehill Tavern. This had
certainly been quite a long day, but extremely productive. They would all
relish a beer and a hearty meal at the tavern.
Once they entered the establishment, Nobby tapped on Guillerme’s
shoulder.
“’Ere, Guillerme, I bet you ten gold pieces that I can play
you at a game of that Dragonchess you’ve got, and take your king,” Nobby said
with surprising confidence.
Guillerme looked a little unsure. It wasn’t so much the
playing of the game, as he was fairly confident that he could beat this street
urchin at a game of wit and wisdom without difficulty, it was simply the size
of the wager. There was a niggling thought that, if he did lose, he had already
been shown up once today by Nobby’s financial acumen, and Guillerme simply didn’t
have much coin in his pocket. He suggested five gold coins for the wager
instead, which Nobby readily accepted.
The paladin pulled the Dragonchess set from his pack and
began setting the board and the pieces on a table in the corner of the tavern. After
a while, he noticed that there seemed to be no more pieces in the bag but there
were two empty squares on the board – one of them being the position that his
king should be in (Guillerme always used the white pieces). He searched under
the table, in his pack, patted down his pockets; the king was nowhere to be
seen. Until he looked up at Nobby. The cheeky little man was holding the white
king piece up in front of his face, grinning from ear to ear.
“I’ll take those five gold pieces please,” said Nobby with a
chuckle.
It took a lot of self-control for Guillerme to not hit his
companion. He bit his lower lip till it almost drew blood as he pulled the five
coins out of his money pouch, one by one. As he did so, he turned to the other
members of the party who sat nearby and told them about the encounter he and
Nobby had in Thundertree where Guillerme pushed the smaller man up against a
tree to tell he what he thought about his actions. Guillerme admitted he would
never have told them if he hadn’t already had a couple of drinks inside him,
but he wanted to let them know how much of a coward Nobby truly was and how he,
Guillerme, could easily best him with fisticuffs but was choosing to be the
bigger man and pay the rogue, even though he had clearly cheated.
Guillerme laughed through gritted teeth as he told his
companions this story, but was confused when he saw Nobby laughing even harder.
It turned out that Nobby was laughing about exactly the same event.
“That's when I got your king piece!” roared Nobby with
laughter.
Guillerme shook his head in disbelief.
 |
| The party relax in the Stonehill Tavern |
