Our D&D Characters

Heather and I have been playing D&D for a few years now, and have a number of characters between us that we have used in a few different campaigns. The nice thing is having these characters 'on ice' with the ability to return to them one day - I would like to actually get some of these characters up to some seriously high levels to see what they can do! 

Heather tends to stick with female characters while I tend to stick with the blokes. She also tends to prefer the intelligent, diplomatic type characters. I tend to enjoy straightforward characters who can smash things. Each to their own! It does mean that my character tends to take something of a protective role towards hers, which is nice isn't it?  

Nerdy Gamers D&D Adventure Progress

The group have been playing through the Lost Mine of Phandelver adventure from the D&D Starter Set, with a few extra little bits thrown in by me (particularly at the beginning to ease them into the game and see how well it worked playing on a videocall).

This table charts their progress so far over the last several months - there are a few sessions to go until they reach the goal of Wave Echo Cave and complete the current adventure. I have some plans for extending the characters' story beyond 5th level, but I think we'll have a bit of a D&D break after the current adventure wraps up - it's been quite intense doing sessions so often and preparing the settings and models, then writing up all the sessions afterwards. But it's been great to see the narrative and characters develop.  

The Party

A few of the players were new to D&D while some had played before, so I helped with creating some of the characters. And, as we have been playing remotely, I supplied the models for everyone to use - most of them I had already but a couple were new additions to suit the character choices. 

Barendil

An elf ranger, skilled with a bow, from a clan of dragon hunters who were all but wiped out many years ago. Wise but possessing a wrathful temper when provoked, Barendil is accompanied by a falcon named Perry who acts as his eyes and ears from the sky. 

Kisandra Starlight

A half-elf sorceress and her pet pseudodragon, Aster. She was an orphan, raised by the scholarly old wizard Bran Hornraven who accompanied the party on their first quest from Chestnut Hollow. 

Buck Norris

Affable and fond of an ale or three, Friar Buck is a human cleric dedicated to Kord who, after finding his faith lacking, has found new purpose within this group. 

Guillerme Don d'Lyonne

Coming from a posh family where he was the unloved son, Guillerme likely took the paladin's path to try and prove something to his father. He longs for the day when he can return home, triumphant, to a hero's welcome. 

Nobby Nobbs

The original Nobby Nobbs model, before his upgrade!

Nobby Nobbs was a watchman in the city of Ankh Morpork on the Discworld, a flat world sitting on the back of four elephants who themselves stand on top of a giant star turtle... If his smell doesn't drive you away, his fanciful tales about where he came from and how he fell through a portal in a library to arrive on the Sword Coast likely will. Persevering through these rambling fever dreams would likely lead to Nobby proudly showing off his certificate that 'proves' he is human. How a rogue with his predilection for thieving ever came to be a watchman in any city, no matter what animals it is built on top of, remains a mystery. 

Nerdy Gamers - D&D Session 20

22 August 2021

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)

Deeper into the Dark

Most of the party stood amongst the wrecked corpses that had, until recently, been animated and attacking them. Kisandra continued picking through the bones, looking for clues, while Nobby stood in a corner picking his nose. Guillerme and Buck were comparing their relative success at destroying the undead foes.

The sorceress looked up from her investigations, realising that it had been some time since Barendil had charged up the stairs in furious pursuit of Hamun Kost. Such was his fury at the sight of the necromancer that he had thrown caution to the wind and abandoned the fight against the undead to chase the Red Wizard. The fact that he still hadn’t returned concerned Kisandra, so she hitched up her long dress and ran lightly up the stairs, pulling on the great lever next to the stone door where they had entered the crypt. Barendil was standing just outside the entrance, attempting to slot the correct skulls back into their hollows to solve the puzzle and open the door once again, though he couldn’t quite remember the solution they had used earlier. He was relieved that Kisandra had come to let him back in to rejoin the others.

Back in the first hall of the crypt, Barendil related his short tale to the rest of the party; Kost had escaped. The damned wizard must have used some sort of magical spell to teleport away, as his footprints suddenly stopped not far from the entrance to the tomb. The ranger had left Perry circling in the skies to keep her eyes open for signs of the necromancer, but he didn’t hold out much hope of finding him any time soon. Once again, Hamun Kost had slipped through their fingers, and Barendil was livid.

Guillerme once again expressed his distrust of the necromancer and wondered what he had been doing down here in the crypt. Kisandra was more concerned by whatever had killed the men that he had reanimated, as it didn’t seem likely that it had been Kost, and it was entirely possible that whatever it was still lurked somewhere within this tomb. She didn’t want the party to be caught unawares by it, so she tried to convince her companions to move things along. They were still discussing the armour that adorned the more powerful skeletal warrior that they had dispatched, the one that seemed to be called Hocker based on the note that Kisandra had found within his pocket. 

Letter found on the corpse of Captain Jens Hocker

Certainly, the armour was decorated with the symbol of the Order of the Gauntlet, and so could represent the artefact that Daran had sent them to find, if Hocker and his party had managed to find it deeper within the crypt and were on their way out when they were attacked. From Kisandra’s careful observations, she could see that this armour was very well cared for and of a ubiquitous design that made dating it particularly tricky – it could have been forged a day ago or a hundred years ago, she couldn’t tell. However, something told her that they should be investigating deeper underground, if only to satisfy her curiosity. Looking up from a particularly deep foray into his left nostril, Nobby heartily agreed.

“Since when have we been lucky enough that whatever we’re looking for is right there in the open as soon as we go in?” asked the rogue with surprising insight.

The others concurred, so Barendil took Nobby by the shoulder and the two of them proceeded into the dark tunnel on the far side of the room, the elf directing them both using his darkvision. They advanced deeper into the crypt, walking silently, past a number of passageways on either side of the main path, though they were generally filled with rubble or detritus. It was unclear whether these side-tunnels had been intentionally closed off or if this is the result of natural cave-ins, but there is substantial damage to the low roof in places. Some of the passageways can be peered into past the blockages, revealing either small burial chambers or minor corridors twisting away into the gloom. Whatever has occurred here. there was but one path open to them and so they followed it. Before long, the pair had rounded a bend and were out of sight of Kisandra, who was watching from the doorway into the main chamber.

On Barendil’s instruction, Nobby called back to the rest of the party to let them know it was safe to follow. Kisandra led Guillerme and Buck to join the pair of scouts and they continued in a single group, following the main shaft as it gently twisted and turned, always angled slightly downwards. Further piles of rubble and rocky debris littered the ground in places but didn’t present an obstacle to their progress.   

Presently, they arrived at the top of a short flight of stairs that led down, through a larger archway and into a dark space beyond that felt larger and more open than the rest of the crypt. A loud and rhythmic noise, like the bellows of a forge, was echoing up the stairs towards them. Guillerme extended his divine senses to try and detect any unnatural beings in the chamber ahead, but he felt nothing. Barendil and Nobby then held the rest of the party back while they prepared to scout forwards into the darkness. Both of the ‘stealth experts’ managed to lose their footing on the stairs, bumping to the ground in a noisy heap of limbs and swearing. Buck and Guillerme looked down in satisfaction at the inelegant jumble of human and elf, pleased that they weren’t the noisy ones for a change; but their faces soon changed when they realised the noise within the chamber ahead had stopped, to be replaced by a huge grumbling and the sound of movement. It seemed that something had been awoken.

Dragging himself away from Nobby as best he could, Barendil peered into the darkness to assess where it was they had fallen into. It was a large circular room with several stone caskets arranged around the circumference. These were far more ornate than any casket the party had seen in the crypt so far. As Barendil was distracted looking at the decorative elements of the crypt, a bony elbow digging into his ribs directed his attention to the large figure that was drawing itself up to its full height ahead of them. Even Nobby could make out the outline of this shadowy monstrosity looming in the gloom. It was a huge beast, easily twice the height of a man and covered in slabs of muscle beneath its deep purple skin. It shook the shaggy mane of white hair on its head as it stared at the adventurers with its one baleful eye and picked up a huge slab of masonry, ready to throw it or use it as a makeshift club.

The adventurers noted the chains hanging from the beast’s wrists and surmised it may have been a prisoner of some sort. Perhaps it wasn’t down here by choice? Barendil declared that he was going to use his charm to woo the beast so stood up and strode confidently forwards.

“Well met fine sir,” began the ranger in a cheery voice, “would you like us to show you the way out of here?”

In response, the giant bellowed and threw the huge chunk of masonry at him. This wasn’t the friendly response the elf was hoping for, as he was smashed to the ground by the flying piece of stonework (which was just as ornate up close as it had been when he was admiring it from afar). Nobby was struggling to see what was happening, but he gathered that Mr. Barendil had been hurt quite severely. He gingerly touched his own limbs and was pleased to find he hadn’t been hit as well.

“Maybe whatever is over there is blind,” whispered Buck, “it only threw that rock in response to the sound that Barendil made trying to talk to it.”

The others nodded at this, thinking it sounded logical, and Kisandra sent a magical Message to Nobby instructing him to light his bullseye lamp so that they could all see what was there. He placed the lamp on the ground, illuminating the purple-skinned giant and glinting off its bronze pauldron, as the rogue sidestepped to the wall to test out Buck’s hypothesis. He tapped on the wall with his rapier to see if the beast would be drawn to the noise – it immediately turned to look at him with fury, huffing through its lips like a caged gorilla. 

A sleeping purple-skinned giant
is awakened by the party

Friar Buck ran nimbly down the stairs, navigating by the faint glow from the bullseye lamp, and ran round the opposite side of the giant to Nobby in an attempt to surround the monster. He was still feeling weak from their previous encounter, having expended significant magical energy, so his attempt to cast Shatter on the beast was woeful and failed to do much more than irritate the hulking brute.

Standing to his feet, Barendil was swaying slightly and felt that he needed some healing and so he cast Cure Wounds on himself, feeling an immediate relaxation throughout his body as the spell soothed the aches and began knitting together broken bones and torn skin. Feeling suitably revitalised, he ran after Buck to assist in flanking the giant. It was then down to Kisandra to do something impressive, so she drew in as much sorcerous power as she could to enable her to use True Strike to assist in casting an empowered Witch Bolt, though it was not to be and the magical lightning fizzled and sparked out of her outstretched hands without even reaching the monster in the centre of the crypt. She stomped her foot in frustration, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to try that trick many more times before needing to rest. 

Nobby's bullseye lamp illuminates the hulking brute

Guillerme pranced down the stairs, calling out to his companions to ask if the monster could understand what they were saying. They paused, looking at one another and wondering how they were supposed to know what the creature may or may not understand any better than he did, though he decided to take that as meaning that it clearly couldn’t. This conjecture appeared entirely inconsequential, however, as he merely ran forwards to slash at the beast with his glaive anyway.

The confusion he caused his companions didn’t seem to hamper his attack whatsoever as he managed to hit the giant cleanly with his glaive, the blade biting deep and causing a grievous wound. Guillerme empowered the strike even more so with his divine will, sending radiant beams of power coursing along the haft of his weapon and inflicting more damage to the giant, causing it to stagger backwards slightly. The giant roared in anger and swung back at Guillerme, one hand whirling a smaller piece of masonry on a chain while the other lifted a huge piece of a column to smash down onto the paladin’s head. The smaller rock smacked hard into Guillerme’s side, knocking him sprawling to the ground with blood running down his face. On the plus side, this did mean that the overhead smash from the larger column missed him entirely and the giant’s makeshift club became buried in the flagstone floor.

Nobby’s crossbow shot missed as the giant was stooping down to smash Guillerme to the ground, but the rogue decided to continue testing Buck’s theory and so tapped on the wall again before running to the far end of the crypt. The giant didn’t seem to pay much attention to the noise Nobby created as it was too busy attempting to free the masonry from the floor, and Buck took the opportunity while it was distracted to continue his flanking manoeuvre towards the rear of the crypt. He had just seen what it had done to Guillerme and wasn’t keen on getting flattened himself. As he circled, he cast Shatter again, doing a little more damage than last time but still not managing to significantly injure the beast.

Running behind the giant, Barendil shot an arrow that hit the monster between the shoulder blades, sticking fast and causing it to groan in pain. Kisandra followed this up with a Scorching Ray directly at the beast’s face. Three beams of super-heated energy flashed towards the giant, two of them striking true while the third rebounded from its bronze pauldron and missed Guillerme’s face by inches. The paladin felt his face warm as the beam streaked past, and he felt relief as he saw the giant’s skin was blackened and blistered where it had been hit by Kisandra’s magic. Not wanting to lose ground to the monster, Guillerme drew on his holy power to heal himself, bravely standing with defiance in front of the giant. While it was still struggling to release its club from the ground, it was only able to swing the smaller piece of masonry at the paladin, which missed – perhaps his faith and bravery were finally being rewarded? Briefly, he reflected that it hadn’t been the best day for him – he was still severely weakened by the Life Drain inflicted by the risen corpse of Jens Hocker. Though, on the other hand (thinking philosophically), he was still standing; and that was a better position than he had been in against the mighty treemen in Thundertree. That was some comfort he supposed. 

Nobby looked at Guillerme’s behaviour less favourably, peeking through fingers that he had clasped across his eyes in disbelief at the paladin’s gluttony for punishment. To have been knocked down that hard and just stand there healing himself? The rogue shook his head, thinking Guillerme must have had his last few brain cells knocked out by that last attack, and lined up a crossbow shot to try and help take the brute down before his companion got into even more trouble. The bolt flew true but didn’t do enough damage to fell the giant, though Nobby felt that things could be looking up as he saw that the party had quite effectively surrounded their foe. Friar Buck likewise saw the potential advantage in their positioning but decided to expend the final remnants of his spellcasting abilities prior to rushing in with his magical axe, Hew, held high. He once again barraged the giant with the Shatter spell and, once again, the beast was bruised but unbowed.

Behind the giant’s back, Barendil decided that he may be able to afford his companions some advantage if he could distract the giant’s attention, so he called out in the same tone full of charm and sophistication to offer to show the brutish creature a way out of the crypt – it had caused a huge rock to be thrown in his direction last time he tried to communicate in this way, perhaps it would once again draw the ire of the beast. Whether it was what Barendil was saying, or the way he said it, the giant did indeed turn to face him with a menacing roar, leaving its back exposed to Kisandra who sent a flaming Fire Bolt whooshing into it, singing the white mane that hung down between its shoulders.

With more than a little overconfidence, now that the giant was facing the other way, Guillerme raised his glaive high for another slashing attack. Again, he connected with the blow and poured his divine might into the strike. The giant was just releasing his thrown piece of masonry towards Barendil when Guillerme’s glaive connected with the back of its head – the look of surprise on the giant’s face was almost as satisfying to the elf as the fact that the stone block smashed into the stone casket he was hiding behind rather than knocking him flying again. Guillerme stood tall behind the fallen form of the giant, almost as surprised as the dead creature was by the devastation his glaive had wrought on it. The surprise quickly turned to smugness as he realised the beast was, in fact, dead.

The party surrounds the giant and eventually
destroys the beast with combined arms

Grave Robbers

The party had the opportunity to catch their breath now that their foe was defeated. Buck imbued his warhammer with magical light, illuminating the chamber more fully than Nobby’s bullseye lamp did. The rogue recovered his lamp before going to pat down the huge corpse and, of course, look for the precious ears that he coveted. He didn’t expect to recognise the creature, being that he was not of this world, but Kisandra was able to identify it as a Hill Giant – the smallest and least threatening of the true giants. This one was a particularly unusual specimen, but its size and demeanour indicated to her that this was what it was. Though why it was down here in a crypt, she could not say – that was also unusual.

Looking round the room, Buck could see that it was some eighty feet across and there were no exits save the one they had stumbled down. Guillerme could sense no undead presence nearby, though the feeling of dread that had pervaded the party since entering this valley remained.

Nobby found nothing of value (other than ears) on the giant. Kisandra wasn’t overly surprised – these small giants tended to work for evil masters in return for an unending food supply and had little need for money or valuables. Barendil declared that they should search the room so he moved towards the nearest stone casket.

“Does anyone have a torch?” asked the elf.

“Well, my warhammer here is lit up…” replied Buck.

“Right. But does anyone have a torch?” asked Barendil again, with a slight hint of irritation creeping into his voice.

“My bullseye lamp…” began Nobby, before Barendil cut him off.

“No, no, no,” said Barendil through gritted teeth, “has anybody. Got. A. Torch?”

“…it’s a bit like a torch…” said Nobby sullenly. 

Kisandra saw the rage building within the elf ranger, so she started scrabbling for a torch, though he wasn’t listening as she offered to light one for him. By this time, Barendil was digging into his own pack and muttering about people not listening to simple questions and not being able to provide the simple contents of any competent adventurer’s standard kit. As he lit the torch, he continued to mutter about the dangers of opening sarcophagi without a torch and still bemoaning the fact his companions hadn’t offered him a torch. There was some confusion among those companions when they saw how many torches he himself had in his pack, but they all thought the better of pointing this out. They also thought it best not to ask what reason he had for desperately wanting a lit torch in particular to open these caskets. Guillerme wasn’t really paying attention to any of this, as he had lit a small silver pipe and was puffing away with the air of self-satisfaction increasing with every smoke ring he blew into the air.    

There were three particularly large and ornate sarcophagi that drew Barendil’s attention. He indicated to Guillerme and Buck that they should open the left-hand one – he was busy holding his torch aloft. The paladin was still sucking on his pipe so Buck stepped up and, using his warhammer as a lever, thrust the stone lid off the sarcophagus so it dropped loudly to the ground on the other side.

“That’s how it’s done, boys,” said the cleric with a grin.

Within the first casket was a skeleton covered in ragged strips of leather wrapping that looked like they may have constituted leather armour once upon a time. In its bony fingers it gripped an ancient sword with a blade so rusted that it looked like it might fall from the hilt if it were picked up.

Nobby then sauntered over to the right-hand sarcophagus. He didn’t think Buck looked so strong when lifting that stone lid, so he figured he would give this one a go. He jammed his crowbar into the small gap and heaved as hard as he could, but the brittle iron snapped, leaving half the crowbar poking out from the side of the sarcophagus. Guillerme laughed and walked over to show him how it was done. The swagger had gotten even more smug, so much so that the paladin winked at Nobby as he lined his should up against the lid of the casket. He didn’t even put the pipe down from the other hand and leant forwards, pushing with all his might, but finding his feet slipping backwards as he did so. The lid remained firmly shut.

“Oh, why don’t you try to work together!” exclaimed Kisandra in exasperation, though by this point male pride was involved and nobody was listening to her.

“Stand back, stand back,” said Buck, “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

With that, the cleric spat on both hands and then he had a go at moving the lid. This time it shifted by a couple of inches, but not enough to get at whatever was inside. Buck blamed the slippery floor for ruining the grip of his boots. Then, to the surprise of all, even Barendil decided to join in with the effusion of testosterone and declared that he would show Friar Buck how an elf would do it. As it turned out, there was little difference between the elf and human methods, with the casket remaining shut.

Kisandra was more than a little annoyed by the display of failing machismo and again urged the males to work together. They finally managed to open this second sarcophagus and found within it a skeleton wearing an old breastplate that had a set of scales atop a hammer embossed on it. The breastplate was in reasonable condition despite appearing old and being covered in a layer of grimy dirt. Buck had a vague recollection of the symbol from his studies of other religions, but Kisandra was able to identify it as the symbol of Tyr, God of Justice. Clearly whoever wore this breastplate in life had dedicated themselves to this deity.

A breastplate that the party found
inside a crypt, embossed with the
symbol of the God of Justice, Tyr

Looking down with appreciation, Nobby decided he should be able to take the breastplate. If it denoted the God of Justice then who better to wear it than the paragon of the legal and justice system in Ankh Morpork, Nobby Nobbs?!

It didn’t seem that the rest of the party agreed with him.

“Hold on there,” said Guillerme. “These people have been honourable, haven’t they Nobby? We were tasked with finding the artefact in this crypt, and that is our only reason for opening these sarcophagus lids. We shouldn’t be taking anything else.”

Nobby’s face looked like he was listening intently to what the paladin was saying, but his hands continued to pull the breastplate out of the casket.

“Get your hands off it, you filthy little rogue!” exclaimed Guillerme shrilly.

In an effort to bring some calm to the situation, Barendil suggested they open the third casket that was in the centre to see what it contained. There was yet another Skeleton, this time clad in old chainmail and wearing a dented helmet. It had a large, double-bladed axe with severe notches in the blade lying across its chest. The party were scratching their heads, not sure what to make of their findings.   

Guillerme did suggest investigating for hidden compartments in or under the sarcophagi. He couldn’t find any himself, and Kisandra searched thoroughly and confirmed that they were made of solid stone with no hidden compartments whatsoever. While they were doing this, Nobby decided to go and watch the entrance to this room, to avoid them being surprised by any enemies – his watchman senses were as sharp as they had ever been, perhaps sharper!

Kisandra had a good long look at the chainmail armour, but could not discern anything particularly special about it. It seemed well made and ancient, but nothing suggested that it was particularly special. She was beginning to conclude that the armour they were searching for just wasn’t here until Guillerme piped up with some surprising insight – the Order of the Gauntlet was comprised of highly religious members. Perhaps it was worth taking a second look at the breastplate. The rest of the party nodded at this suggestion, thinking it was the most promising lead considering they didn’t know what else to do.

“I say we should take some stuff, and ohhhh no, you lot tell me I can’t,” moaned Nobby from the other side of the room. “Then, when someone else suggests taking the same thing, you all think it’s a good idea! It’s almost like there’s something about my character you don’t like…”

They agreed that they would take the breastplate back to Daran, and that Nobby would not be allowed to fence it anywhere. Thinking hard, Barendil felt that there was something on the tip of his tongue that he just couldn’t quite remember – his advanced years (compared to the humans) often translated to improved wisdom but sometimes, as in this case, it appeared more like senility had begun to set in. Anyway, forgetting that, he was keen to get moving as soon as possible, reminding his companions that they had a larger goal to achieve – that of reopening Wave Echo Cave and thwarting the Black Spider. They had no more time to spare wandering around this crypt.  

Nobby took this as a clear sign from Mr. Barendil that they should hurry up, so while the rest of the party were debating the best way to remove the breastplate from its previous owner, the rogue ran up and started kicking the skeleton in the kneecap. He was dead, what did he care? After a few minutes of furious kicking, Nobby had prevailed, and the breastplate came free easily. Before he could hop down, the skeleton shifted towards him all of a sudden, causing Nobby to squeal in terror with the thought that the corpse was attempting to grab him. Of course, it wasn’t, which made his reaction all the more amusing.  

Buck surveyed the smaller caskets surrounding the room and surmised they were unlikely to contain anything of much value – they looked the same as those that they had checked previously within this labyrinthine crypt, and anything of value was likely to be contained within one of the three large sarcophagi they had just searched. Meanwhile, as Nobby held the breastplate aloft, Guillerme reached into his pack and retrieved a pair of fine silk pantaloons. He wanted to wrap the breastplate in some sort of protective cloth before Nobby’s sticky fingers sullied the ancient metal too much, and there was none more protective than the cloth he was touching.  

Kisandra and Barendil both felt they were far above the childish giggling that the other three descended into when discussing Guillerme’s pants that were now wrapped tightly around the breastplate, and so they turned and led the way back up to the first room they had some to when entering the crypt. Barendil looked around the six dead bodies and considered what they might be able to carry with them back to town – it was clear they couldn’t take everything. Kisandra suggested taking the armour which displayed the symbol of the Order of the Gauntlet – she reasoned that it was possible the breastplate was not the artefact that Daran was looking for, in which case perhaps it was this armour. And, if not, it might at least be worth something. Everyone agreed that this seemed sensible and so the party departed the crypt carrying a suit of plate armour that was embossed with the symbol of the Order of the Gauntlet, as well as a breastplate with a symbol of the God of Justice, Tyr, on it, wrapped in pants. They also carried a wealth of experience and life lessons with them. 

Roadside Assistance

A mixed group of dwarfs and humans that the
party encountered on the road between
Phandalin and Chestnut Hollow

Upon leaving the crypt, the party proceeded with all haste back to Phandalin – there was no time for resting, they wanted to get back to Daran and continue with their main quest for the Lost Mine of Phandelver! On the road between Phandalin and Chestnut Hollow, they bumped into a mixed group of humans and dwarfs and their carts, laden with various goods. One of the carts appeared to be damaged.

“Ho!” called one of the men from on top of a cart. “It’s nice to see some friendly faces. You are friendly faces, aren’t you?”

After a good few moments warily pausing, Nobby began speaking to the group.

“Wotcha lads,” the rogue said, “what are you lot doing out here, don’t look like you’re up to much?”

“The roads are much safer now,” one of the dwarfs responded, “so we’re transporting goods from Phandalin down to Chestnut Hollow. But one of the wheels came of one of the wagons – do you think you could you help us get it back on?”

“Well, one of our boys reckons he’s well hard,” said Nobby looking back at the rest of the party with a wide grin, “tough as anything, he’ll get that back on in a jiffy. C’mon Buck!”

Buck stepped forwards confidently, but Guillerme was more cautious, looking over the wagons to check that they were telling the truth. One of the wheels was indeed broken, so he didn’t object to Buck moving forwards to help. The paladin did keep a suspicious eye on the carts and their drivers, however, poking about a little as he didn’t fully trust what they were saying. His investigations drew the ire of one of the dwarfs, who stamped over and poked Guillerme in the chest with an outstretched finger.

“Oi, get away from that,” the dwarf growled, “nothing to do with you. Is this cos I’m a dwarf? What are you, some kind of racist?!”

Kisandra swiftly moved in to diffuse the situation, well knowing how volatile dwarfs could be if they believe their honour has been besmirched.

“Please excuse my friend,” she said in soothing tones, “we’ve encountered a lot of unscrupulous people recently, we’re a bit wary of strangers to tell you the truth. Who sent you on the road? Who are you working for?”

Her calming tones had the desired effect and the dwarf’s anger subsided.

“Sorry, it’s just these… bloody… humans, sometimes…” he said quietly, before Buck slapped him on the shoulder.

“No matter, come on my stout fellow, let’s get this fixed up for you, I’ve got just the tools for the job,” said the genial cleric.   

“We’re working for Barthen’s Provisions,” the dwarf said to Kisandra as Buck led him away from Guillerme, “just taking some goods down to Chestnut Hollow. It’s been such a long time since these roads have been safe that we haven’t really had the chance to restock the folk down there for ages. They’ll be more than happy to receive these and very grateful for the roads being open and safe again.”

Not being able to leave anything alone, Guillerme decided to follow Buck and the dwarf and pester him some more.

“You don’t have a dragon skull in there do you?” asked the paladin.

The dwarf shook his head in confusion and said no, they didn’t have a dragon skull in their cartloads of staple goods and sundries. Kisandra watched his response and was satisfied that they didn’t have anything unusual in their cargo.

Buck didn’t hang around, he swiftly had the cart up on chocks and was using his own smith’s tools and his knowledge of vehicles to quickly whip the broken wheel off and replace it with the spare that the merchants had on board. He didn’t even require any help from anyone else, and in no time at all they had their horse hitched up again and were preparing to continue their journey down to Chestnut Hollow.

Before they left, Nobby sidled up to the fancy looking man in the big floppy hat and asked him if he was in charge of this little enterprise.

“We’re more a collaborative consortium of cooperative traders, you know, that sort of thing, we like to work together for the common good of us all, though we are often employed by Barthen’s Provisions, nobody is really ‘in charge’, if you know what I mean,” said the merchant in a fairly haughty tone, continuing before Nobby could get a word in, “we have a rather lucrative profit sharing scheme, if you’re interested?”

“Anything you’d like to share with us?” asked Nobby, ever the opportunist.

“Well, I’m afraid all these goods are earmarked for Chestnut Hollow and White Willow farm. Have you ever been there? It’s a lovely place.”

The adventurers did indeed remember White Willow Farm and their wonderous Christmas adventure that occurred there. Nobby tried to catch the merchant out by asking what the name of the tavern in Chestnut Hollow was – of course, the man knew it was the Golden Hind, he’d been there often enough. Barendil was then going to ask what the name of the farmer was at White Willow Farm, before he remembered that they never bothered to ask for his name when they were there anyway.

Before the interrogation could continue, the merchants thanked Buck profusely for his help with their broken wheel and made their way on down the road towards the village, leaving the adventurers to head north and back once more into Phandalin.   

A Rewarding Experience

The first thing Guillerme wanted to do once they got to Phandalin was head for Barthen’s Provisions and check that the merchants’ story was legitimate – clearly the paladin had trust issues.

Nobby said that he wanted to visit the Miners Exchange. In answer to the querying glances from his companions, he dug a crumpled letter out of his pocket and showed it to everyone – he had been invited to join the Zhentarim some time earlier, and now that everyone else was getting somewhere in their respective organisations, he felt that it was his time to sign up to something. He assured the others that, while this was not as wholesome as the organisations they had joined, it could be pretty useful, and he wouldn’t lie to the group. No more than was necessary, anyway.

The crumpled letter from Halia Thornton
that Nobby had been keeping since the group's
first visit to Phandalin

The party agreed with Barendil, however, that they should first return to Daran to deliver what they hoped was the artefact he was seeking. This achieved the goal of avoiding leaving anything of potential value with Nobby for too long, as well as resolving the mission they had been sent on. So, they approached Daran in his regular position leaning on the gate to his orchard, where he greeted them with his usual warmth.

“So, how did it go?” he asked.

The party relayed their adventurers in the crypt, including the harpy ambush and the surprise meeting with Hamun Kost, the undead brawl and battle with the hill giant. They told Daran that Guillerme and Barendil both nearly died, before Nobby shared the revelation that some of Daran’s boys had, in fact, died. This drained the colour from the old half-elf’s face.

“Some of my men died?” he asked, “and this is how you tell me?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that,” said Nobby, “but was it really that much of a surprise when we just told you about everything we encountered in there?”

“I did tell you to be careful…” said Edermath.

“Well, your boys clearly weren’t careful enough, were they?” said Nobby glibly, causing Daran to look at him menacingly.

Guillerme jumped in to say that they didn’t know how the men had died, they were massacred, but it wasn’t clear by what. But the worst part was that they were raised from the dead, by the necromancer Hamun Kost, so the party had to fight to destroy them and break the curse of undeath. Daran looked up at this.

“It was Hocker’s men, wasn’t it?” he asked quietly.

They nodded and showed him the letter that they found on Hocker’s corpse.

“That’s the ultimate insult, being raised and used as a puppet by an evil necromancer,” sighed Daran, “I wouldn’t wish that on a broke dick dog. Look, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you about Hocker and his men going in there ahead of you. But, now you’ve joined the Order of the Gauntlet, you’re assets. Expendable assets. The only thing that matters is protecting the people, and there are innocents being preyed upon by evil across this land. If that means I have to cook up a story and drop you in somewhere, I’m afraid that’s what I have to do. I’m sorry you feel troubled about what happened in the crypt, but I really didn’t know what you were going to find. I was obviously concerned when Hocker and his men didn’t return, as they were highly trained, but you’ve proved your worth to me, a few times now. But I would be a damn fool if I said you were the best. I didn’t know what had happened to Hocker, for all I knew he was in a whorehouse for the last tenday – he does, sorry, did, have a tendency to get lost in those sorts of establishments.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know where that whorehouse is would you…” interrupted Guillerme.

“You joined the Order late,” said Daran scathingly, “and that can always be rescinded. Anyway, you got in there and did the job, and that’s the main thing for now. So, where is the artefact?”

Everyone looked at Nobby, who carefully removed the breastplate from his pack, leaving Guillerme’s pantaloons behind, and passed it to Barendil to hand over to Daran.

“This was reverently recovered and transported by the merry band you see before yourself, I hope it is what you were looking for,” said the elf with all deference.

Daran lifted the breastplate reverently and nodded. This was it. He looked back at Barendil.

“I hope you treated the tomb with all the appropriate respect?” he asked the elf.

“We did,” said Barendil quickly, but there was some uncomfortable shifting going on in the rest of the party. Daran’s eyes narrowed as Guillerme looked sideways at Nobby.

“Well, there was no intention to damage any of the bodies,” said Barendil defensively, “but in our haste to retrieve the breastplate there was a bit of an issue with the knee joint… but we left it in situ, and the rest of the bodies were untouched.”

Daran wasn’t looking impressed.

“Did you at least close up all the caskets again?” he asked.

There was a lot of shuffling feet before someone admitted that they hadn’t closed up the caskets.

“So, you’re telling me that Hockers men, MY men, were raised as puppets by some evil necromancer, while you lot went around defiling graves and leaving a mess in the crypt?” Daran was becoming more irritable now.

Barendil tried to explain that they had only left the lids open, they hadn’t done anything else, while Nobby argued the point that Daran himself had sent them to steal from the crypt. Edermath was having none of it, he was not pleased that the caskets were open, and he maintained that they were ‘liberating’ the armour from the crypt, not stealing it.

“I didn’t think I needed to tell you that you should be respecting the honoured heroes of our Order,” Daran said with disappointment.  

Barendil was outraged at this, telling Daran that he had never mentioned that they were entering a crypt filled with honoured heroes, and that they were more concerned about protecting themselves from the attacks of undead and giants than they were about being careful of the corpses. Guillerme reasoned that the lids of the sarcophagi were really heavy, so he didn’t see how they would have got them back on again anyway. Even the easy-going Buck was getting irate at the conversation. Daran shook his head – he was not pleased about how this mission had gone, but at least he had the artefact he desired.

“So, do you want to know about this piece of armour you recovered then?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure, tell us all about this thing that we risked our arses for,” replied Buck sullenly.

“Well, this ancient breastplate,” began Daran, becoming more misty eyed as he spoke more about it, “belonged to a Justiciar of Tyr, a shining beacon of the city of Waterdeep named Lord Harkas Kormallis. He was Champion of Tyr and a powerful paladin who exemplified everything that the Order stands for. It will be a clarion call to all for us to display this heirloom in the halls of the Order, drawing more righteous warriors to our banner as they see the devotion and honourable lineage that we draw upon.”  

“So, is it stolen valour?” asked Guillerme.

“What are you talking about?” replied Daran with a huff, “of course not. He was a founding member of the Order of the Gauntlet, I’m not sure I like your tone!”

Guillerme started talking about honour and virtue, to which Daran scoffed about how rich that was coming from the group that failed to treat a tomb of heroes with the respect it deserved.

“Look, Daran, we just had our arses handed to us,” said Buck, “we were hanging on by a thread, didn’t know where the next threat was coming from…”

“AND MY MEN ARE DEAD!” shouted Daran.

Kisandra stepped in front of the men in an attempt to calm the situation down.

“We’re sorry we left it in such a state Daran,” she said, “but we were in an awful state ourselves. Perhaps we can get someone to go and reverently restore the crypt?”

“It’s fine,” said Daran, calming down, “we need to recover Hocker and his team to bury them with honour. We’ll sort the rest of it when we’re there.”

“We really wanted to bring them back for you,” said Kisandra, “we just couldn’t carry them all, and knew we needed to get back here as soon as possible. We can give your men the code to open the magical seal to the crypt though, to save them time figuring it out.”

Daran was placated now, but Buck was far from happy. It had taken time for his anger to grow, but now it was burning furiously. He wanted more gratitude from the half-elf who had sent them on a mission with insufficient information.

“You want gratitude?” asked Daran. “Then fuck off and talk to Bearnivig.”

With that, Daran Edermath turned on his heel and stalked back into his house, before Barendil could manage to tell him all about his suspicions regarding the strange feelings they had when entering the valley where the crypt was located. The rest of the party looked at each other and grumbled about the way they had just been treated before turning and heading towards the centre of town. 

Guillerme stopped in at Barthen’s Provisions, where he was assured that the merchant caravan they had encountered was indeed a legitimate supply run sent from Phandalin. Guillerme shook his head, still struggling to believe it to be true.

They then proceeded to the taxidermist, where Nobby walked in and cheerily slapped his hand on the counter.

“Wotcha,” he said, “how’s that beaver suit coming, should be ready by now, right?”

“Oh, yes sir,” replied the dwarf behind the counter, “but firstly, we’ve finished your boots.”  

He placed a pair of bright blue boots on the counter, followed by a large box full of fur. Nobby was enthralled. He let out a little squeal of excitement at his new attire.

“Thank you so much, you are far and away the best person I have met on this planet,” he gushed at the taxidermist. For his part, the dwarf looked a little concerned that Nobby was so pleased that he might try to give him a hug, which was something that he was fairly sure he didn’t want from the excitable, yet still odious, little man.

The dwarf also told Nobby that he had received a letter and that he would be grateful if he could pass it along to his companion who had sent the dragon skull. After reading the contents, Nobby was more than happy to pass the letter on to Guillerme – it was the best thing he’d seen since unveiling the beaver suit a few minutes earlier. After reading it a few more times, he folded the letter and put it in his pocket, planning to pass it on when he thought it needed to be communicated. He could barely contain his excitement!

Nobby's purchases, ready for
collection from the taxidermist

Not the response Guillerme was looking
for when he sent a dragon skull home

Nobody was quite sure why Nobby seemed so amused as they left the taxidermist, they just assumed he was delighted with his new shiny blue boots. They wandered over to the forge where Bearnivig stood, looming as large as he had ever done, but with a look of friendly concern on his face.

“Welcome back friends, I heard your argument with Daran,” began the big man. “Please, cut him some slack. He was close with Jens Hocker – they were good friends.”

“Ah, something else he didn’t tell us,” muttered Buck with an eye roll.

“Told you so…” murmured Kisandra under her breath.

The smith asked if they had found anything else with Hocker and his men, and Buck showed him the plate armour that they took from the captain’s body.

“Well, I suggest you take that to Daran as a bit of a peace offering,” suggested Bearnivig, “and have a bit more of a chat with him once he’s calmed down and had a couple more ciders. It’s an emotional time for him, as you can appreciate, and of course he can’t always tell you everything, even if he would like to, as he has people that give him orders too. It’s a difficult situation, but he’s a good man.”

Buck nodded thoughtfully and said that they would go and straighten things out with Daran. Guillerme commented that it was sometimes hard to see things from both sides. Bearnivig nodded then clapped his hands together.

“More importantly, I expect you would like to see what I have created for you!” he exclaimed, pulling aside a cloth with a theatrical flourish to reveal a wonderous shield covered in blue scales.

“Bearnivig that is a work of art,” breathed Buck, “truly you are the most highly skilled of blacksmiths. I will be most honoured and blessed to carry this shield.”

The huge blacksmith beamed down with the praise at his work and made sure he pointed out the Kord symbol that was incorporated as the shield boss in the centre. He was truly proud of this shield, so was pleased at the reaction it received.

Buck's new magical shield

Before heading to make peace with Daran, the party stopped in at the Miners Exchange so Nobby could talk to Halia Thornton. Unfortunately, the establishment was closed, so he decided to try again later. As they walked down the road, Guillerme tapped Nobby on the shoulder to ask him whether the dragon skull had been sent on by the taxidermist as agreed. Nobby assured him it had.

“And, you know what, I’ve got a really good feeling about it,” said Nobby with a chuckle.

 

The Big Push

Guillerme popped into the Town Master’s office to see if there was news from Sildar, and was pleased to find a letter from the Lord’s Alliance representative, addressed to the party. Apparently, Sildar had returned to the town whilst they were away on Daran’s mission, and he was now waiting for them outside Wave Echo Cave. The final chapter of their adventure was about to begin!

Letter from Sildar to the party, left on
his desk at the Town Master's office

Kisandra, Buck, Barendil and Guillerme then went to straighten things out with Daran, whilst Nobby propped up the bar in the Stonehill Tavern. They approached the orchard with some trepidation, but Buck steeled himself to knock on the door. Daran opened it and, before he could say anything, Buck began to apologise for their earlier heated conversation. He explained that it was all a misunderstanding brought on by the raw emotion of the last few days, the fighting and mortal peril they found themselves in, but that they had successfully completed the mission. Perhaps more importantly for Daran, they had recovered Jens Hocker’s armour, which Buck now offered to Daran as some compensation for the loss of his friend.

Daran was touched by the gesture and invited the group of them into his house, where they sat while he poured cider into large stone goblets. He apologised as well, telling them of his friendship with Jens and how close the two of them were, despite the latter’s predilection for visiting whorehouses (or was it because of that?). He said his hands were tied when it came to telling the adventurers about Hocker’s mission, as they all have their orders. But he never imagined that it would go like it did – he was expecting a far easier retrieval mission for the artefact. But, their experience seemed to be similar to others that he knew of. Many holy sites were being defiled by evil beings. Daran didn’t know whether there was a concerted attack on the Order of the Gauntlet or whether this was symptomatic of a general increase in evil activity across the land; wither way, it needed to be dealt with.  

“That certainly makes sense,” said Buck, “because we felt a sense of dread and unease as soon as we got to that crypt – far more so than we would normally find from simply going underground.”

“Even the elven-blooded felt the cold, clammy hands of death,” affirmed Barendil. “I felt like there was a Wight nearby.”

“Oh. Was there?” asked Daran. They shook their heads in reply. “Well, we’ll have the retrieval team do a sweep when they are recovering Hocker’s team,” he said. “And you said there was a giant inside? That’s unusual!”

It wasn’t clear to anyone how or why the giant had been in the crypt. There was something strange going on, perhaps a mystery to be solved another day, but Barendil suggested that Daran instruct his team to be especially cautious when descending into that crypt. The warning was well received.

Daran then looked down at the armour and sighed. He decided to offer it to the party to use as they saw fit. As far as he was concerned, Hocker would want his plate armour to be used in service of the Order of the Gauntlet, so, as long as they had someone who would make use of it within the party, Bearnivig would adjust it to their measurements overnight as a gesture of goodwill. It was agreed that Guillerme would wear the plate armour and hopefully do the Order proud.

With that, the party departed from Daran Edermath’s house, feeling much better about the situation, and headed for the tavern to have a well-earned rest.

In the morning, Nobby tried the Miner’s Exchange again – it was still closed. He dropped a note through the door for Halia and then returned to the tavern to change into something more comfortable and much more beaverish. The party gathered themselves and departed Phandalin, heading for Wave Echo Cave and whatever may await them in the Lost Mine of Phandelver.

Nobby's note to Halia Thornton regarding
membership of the Zhentarim

A Lone Figure on the Road

The party marched with purpose out of Phandalin, heading east towards where Gundren’s map told them Wave Echo Cave could be found. Kisandra and Barendil ensured that Aster and Perry were flying overhead, watching out for danger and paying attention for any sign of Gundren and Sildar. Up ahead, the two flying creatures spotted a single traveller on the road, sitting by a small campsite. He spotted them in return, thinking it more than a little unusual to see a miniature dragon and a falcon flying in formation next to one another. He called down the road to the party.   

“Hold and well met travellers!” he called.

“Hold and well met young sir,” replied Barendil cheerfully.

Kisandra mentally communicated with Aster, asking the pseudodragon to have a good look at this man on the road to see if anything looked suspicious about him. Aster figured he looked like a human wearing green clothes and holding a crossbow, and he was standing next to a single bedroll, a decent pack, and a small campfire. Nothing looked particularly out of the ordinary.

The party meet a lone hunter on the
east road out from Phandalin

“What’s your name good fellow?” asked Buck. “What brings you to this part of the world?”

“Well, my name’s Delsin,” came the reply, “and I’m just a hunter, out hunting in the wilderness. Looking for something for my tea, maybe a pelt or two I can sell. What about yourselves? Where are you off to, in a hurry somewhere are we?”

Kisandra said that they were in a bit of a hurry as they had important business to attend to, while Buck handed him a pamphlet all about the teachings of Kord. Delsin gave the pamphlet a cursory glance before dropping it to the ground, but Buck quickly picked it up again for him.

“Think you dropped this by accident,” said the cleric with a smile. Delsin nodded and pocketed the piece of paper.

Guillerme asked the hunter how safe it felt out here in the woods nowadays.

“Oh yeah, it’s safe enough all right. Unless you’re a coney and you’re in the sights of me crossbow, of course, but other than that, yeah it seems to be, seems to be,” replied Delsin. He then asked, “are you companions of a dwarf who passed this way recently? Looked a bit like a miner to me, not that I’m an expert…”

“They all look like miners mate!” said Nobby with a snort of laughter.

“Seems a bit racist, don’t it?” said Delsin.

Barendil asked Delsin, with some suspicion, why he was asking about a potential dwarf companion.

“Oh, just cos I seen one walking this way with a bit bald man, that’s all,” replied the hunter. “Looked like an interesting fellow, just wondered if you knew him.”

“No, don’t know him,” lied Guillerme, “we’ve got more important things to be thinking about anyway.”

Delsin didn’t believe the paladin for a minute, he was a terrible liar. The hunter looked Guillerme straight in the eye and gave a low whistle, immediately causing a huge creature to come bursting out of the trees to their right. Delsin laughed to himself.

A huge monster comes bursting from the trees
to their right in response to Delsin's whistle

This creature was like nothing the
adventurers had encountered before

Nobody had encountered a creature like this before. It seemed like an unholy combination of reptile, bird and turtle or beetle, with huge bony hooks in place of its hands. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t friendly as it moved to attack them.

Buck cast Shield of Faith on himself before charging bravely, holding his magical axe and new dragonscale shield high. He barrelled into the beast but was unable to pierce its thick hide. In response, the creature slashed back at him with both of its bony arms, the first being turned by his shield while the second slipped under his guard and sliced across his gut. Buck roared in rage at the pain, sending magical lightning coursing back at his attacker in response.

Delsin retreated back towards the treeline and knelt to aim his crossbow at Kisandra, though clearly she was more difficult to hit than a coney as his bolt went wide.

“How dare you, filthy scum!” shouted Barendil as he fired an arrow back in reply, which thudded into a tree to Delsin’s left.

Nobby was more successful with his crossbow, hitting Delsin squarely with a bolt. Kisandra followed this up swiftly with a magic missile that thwacked several bolts of force into the hunter, adding to the damage Nobby had caused. Delsin tried to melt back into the foliage.

Guillerme decided that the glory was with Buck and the fight against the strange birdlike creature, so he charged in with his glaive swinging. He managed to connect with a strong hit, concentrating his diving power into the strike to enhance the damage. The creature squawked in pain as his blade bit deep. Friar Buck used the opportunity to swing his own blade, which also ripped into the beast’s flesh.

In response, the creature lashed out at both its assailants. One bone hook rebounded from Guillerme’s shiny plate armour, newly fitted and cleaned for him by Bearnivig the previous night. The other hook gashed into Buck once more, again causing the cleric to howl in pain and retaliate with his Wrath of the Storm, causing more lightning damage to the attacking creature.

Delsin cried out with concern as he saw his creature being attacked by Buck and Guillerme, so he levelled his crossbow at the paladin in an attempt to prevent him from killing the beast. The bolt found a joint in the armour through which it could penetrate, eliciting a yowl of pain from Guillerme and reminding the paladin that he wasn’t invulnerable wearing this new plate mail.

Delsin retreats to the edge of the forest
to fire his crossbow while the
horrific creature attacks at close
quarters with its hooked arms

 For his part, Barendil continued trying to turn the hunter into the hunted and sent another arrow flying towards Delsin, but again his aim was off – perhaps the play of the shadows on the edge of the forest was affecting his eyesight. Nobby concentrated hard as he raised his crossbow. He wanted to impress Mr. Barendil, but on the other hand he didn’t want to embarrass the elf. However, life on the gloomy streets of The Shades in Ankh Morpork certainly helped Nobby’s eyes to be accustomed to moving shadows and his shot hit the hunter, hard. This was followed up by Kisandra sending a Fire Bolt at Delsin, which burnt into his shoulder. The hunter was now torn between defending himself against these ranged attacks and protecting his attack beast from Buck and Guillerme. He looked on with a pained expression as Guillerme again slashed at the creature and poured yet more divine energy into the strike. While he did this, the paladin was looking all over the place – trying to eyeball Delsin in case he shot another bolt his way and also noticing that Buck was looking severely injured and in danger of collapsing at any moment. Guillerme placed a protective Sanctuary ward over the cleric to try and protect him from further attacks.

Buck was swaying, dangerously close to passing out, and so could barely raise his axe to try and hit the birdlike monster. The creature, in return, went to attack both Guillerme and Buck, but it found that something strange discouraged it from attacking the cleric – though it had no understanding of what was happening, the ward that Guillerme had placed on Buck was having the desired effect of preventing him from being attacked. Unfortunately for Guillerme, this meant that the beast’s full attention was now placed upon his head, and its rage was fearful. Both hook arms smashed viciously down onto the paladin’s head, knocking him senseless. Buck was horrified at Guillerme’s sacrifice as the paladin was now looking in worse shape than he was! Fortunately for the paladin, Delsin’s attempt to finished him off with a crossbow bolt flew harmlessly over his swaying head.

Frustration had been building within Barendil due to his lacklustre archery this day, and Nobby showing him up with his crossbow was the last straw. The elf threw down his bow and ran towards the bird monster with a roar of anger, bringing his longsword, Talon, up in a sweeping attack that bit into the creature’s gut and exploded out of its shoulder in a rain of blood and viscera. The beast had taken enough punishment and, finally, it fell to the ground, dead. Barendil stood over its corpse in triumph as his two wounded companions attempted to simply remain on their feet.  

Delsin wailed in grief as his beast was cut down, involuntarily rising from his position in the shade of the trees to move towards the stricken creature. This only made him an easier target for Nobby to shoot with his crossbow and then Kisandra to kill with a Fire Bolt between the eyes. Guillerme tried to hoarsely call out that they should take him alive, but the sorceress considered that he was too far away and could too easily slip away into the trees if he wasn’t stopped, permanently. There wasn’t anything much more permanent than her fire magic burning through his brain and the hunter fell backwards, the pained look of grief fixed on his face.

“Should’ve just taken the leaflet,” said Buck sardonically, before nearly falling over. Barendil caught him before he hit the ground and did his best to stabilise both Buck and Guillerme before their wounds overcame them.  

Searching through Delsin’s pockets, they found a letter from the Black Spider, who had apparently employed Delsin and his beast to waylay, and ultimately kill, the adventurers before they could reach Wave Echo Cave. Kisandra examined the beast and, given that the letter mentioned that it was a denizen of the Underdark, discerned that ‘Click-Clack’ was a Hook Horror – a dangerous predator from the Underdark that usually lived and hunted in packs. The fact that Delsin appeared to have captured and trained this beast to fight with him, even forming an emotional bond with it, seemed surprising given what little she had read on the subject. She resolved to research them more thoroughly the next time she was in a place of learning.

Other than healing the wounded, the party was ready to move on towards Wave Echo Cave and find their friends, Gundren and Sildar, to hopefully put an end to this Black Spider’s nefarious plans once and for all.   

A letter from the Black Spider
to the hunter Delsin

Next - Session 21 ⏩