Thursday, 19 August 2021

(G459 07/08/2021 via Roll20 - AP, JF(GM), KT, AD) HOM2

 (G459 07/08/2021 via Roll20 - AP, JF(GM), KT, AD) HOM2

[We return now to Hommlet, and the adventures of Griffolk Ethyn the Dragon-Shaman, Sparkledingle the Gnome Wizard, Fangorino the Barbarian and their reluctant cleric Beaver Boggins.]

DAY 1 (Summer 1377DR) cont...

The brave adventurers interviewed their four prisoners. They had:

Danny - a middle-aged man with many more tattoos than teeth.
Benny - a young half-orc that smelled of goats
Eggy - a fat, short middle-aged man with the sweaty appearance of someone who spent too much time hanging out in privies
"Froggy not Frog" - a tall, green-skinned "human" who ate nothing but giant frog flesh, or so he said

Tempting as it was to either kill them or throw them to the giant lizard that lurked in one of the unexplored rooms, they decided to bring them back to Hommlet and hand them over to the Militia Captain - Elem Oats. Once this was done they went back to the tavern and found Mr Pin, who happily handed over the rest of their agreed payment of gold.

Their pockets jingling with their profits, they went to the local Merchant's shop to sell loot and buy more equipment and supplies from their newfound wealth. The shop was run by two men called Rannos Davl and Gremag.

Later in the afternoon they went to talk to Mr Pin again, about the lower levels of the Moathouse.
He said to them,
'Feel tree to explore the cellars, but I've had no word about it from my patron, so I'd not have any payment to give you. She just told me to arrange the removal of the bandits. Just watch out when you are down there, you'll definitely need a healer, but you'll never persuade Beaver to go with you.
Oh, and right at the back there is a certain thing... Oh, nevermind, I've said too much, forget I said anything. Well, just leave it alone is my advice.'

Still, he treated them to a slap up feast at the Welcome Wench and as much ale as they could drink. Suitably refreshed, they decided to go look for a healer to replace Beaver. They had heard of Jaroo, the local druid who had a grove nearby. The locals warned of his fiery temper though and they told them a favourite story of the time Cale the Dervish who had very unwisely poked his bear and had died as a result.

It was thought best that Sparkledingle do the talking, as he was by far the lest threatening of the three of them.
'Let's see,' grumbled the old man. 'You might try a gnome cleric called Allyoop, she lives in a small house a mile or so to the north. She's not looking for adventure as far as I know, but perhaps you being a gnome and all, you might be able to talk her into it. Then there is a tiefling druid name of Oriuphis Benvolio. She's a tough one, and looking for work so you'd have no trouble persuading her to join you.'

The others thought the druid more practical, but Sparkledingle seemed to be already half in love with this gnome wench he had never even seen before.
'Allyoop,' he crooned. 'Such a lovely name. We should definitely call on her first!'

He could not be dissuaded, so by around six in the evening they turned up at her house. The tiny cottage was guarded by two large dire wolves though, that started barking as they approached.

(As an interesting side note - wolves do not bark (or rather - generally choose not to),  as we all know, but I am led to understand that Allyoop had somehow found and tamed two  Copper Mountain Barking Wolves, famous for the huge bellows that they use to call to each  other across the valleys. Excellent guard-dogs if you are not overly concerned about burst eardrums.)

A little gnome lady came to the door.
'Down Groucho!' she yelled at one wolf.
'Down Harpo!' she yelled at the other.

Eventually the wolves ceased their noise and slumped back down onto their bellies. Sparkledingle stepped forward gingerly and with lovehearts in his eyes explained his request.

Initially she was not interested, but whatever was driving Sparkledingle seemed impossible for anyone to resist.
'There are undead in the Moathouse,' he insisted, although he had no idea. 'Is it not the kindest thing to lay them to rest? As you are a cleric after all.'
'Very well,' she said eventually. 'Meet me at the Welcome Wench tomorrow lunchtime.'

That evening they returned to the Inn. Sparkledingle went to his room and studied but the two young men did what all young adventurers with coin in their pocket do, ate, drank and made merry.

Late on in the evening a fine lady known as Baroness Partik arrived, with her servants,  and booked rooms. She seemed in a hurry and was rude to the innkeeper as she made  arrangements. Both the young men tried to engage with her, but she brushed them off.
Fangorino even made a drunken pass at her, but she side-stepped his advances then gave him a very loud piece of her mind.
The young barbarian beat a retreat back to his table.


DAY 2 (Summer 1377DR)

Allyoop met them for lunch as she had promised.

Now, gnomish courtship is all about playing practical jokes on each other. I have seen this from Urol Forol, when he was making his clumsy advances on Nobby.
Buckets of water balanced on doors, hand buzzers, boot polish on the ends of telescopes, all the classic japes.

Sparkledingle, still smitten with Allyoop pulled up a bench for her to sit at, then pulled it away at the last minute. She noticed though, and pretended to stumble, knocking a jug of water in the direction of Sparkledingle's head.
It was going to miss him, but he leapt right under it, making sure he got drenched. He laughed and gave her his most charming smile as he wiped the water from his eyes.

Seeing that the whole inn was now watching them though, they pulled themselves together, sat down and got to business. Once they had eaten, they left, heading towards the Moathouse.

At the last minute though, Griffolk, mysteriously declared;
'You all go ahead, I'm just going to the shop for some last minute supplies!'

With unbridled curiosity Sparkledingle followed him. All that the gnome saw though, was the young man hand over some coins and receive two mysterious packages. One the size of a jam jar, the other the size of a shoe box.

They arrived at the Moathouse after two hours walk and made their way to the cellar steps without incident. They made their way down the steps to a stone walled chamber with two doors to the west and a long corridor that turned to the south to their east.

It had been decided back at the tavern that Fangorino, the strongest of them, would be the one to go first.
'Pick a door!' said Sparkledingle gesturing at the two western doors.
The young barbarian, perhaps taking exception to receiving orders from someone that only came up to his knee, turned and headed east, to a door down the corridor he had just spotted.

'Don't split the par... eek!' squealed the gnome as Fangorino opened the door he had taken a liking to and a pile of zombies fell out on top of him.

There were more doors down the hall and they all opened as more zombies joined the crush in the corridor until there was a tidal wave of them.

Fangorino and Griffolk quickly formed a defensive line. Allyoop used her Turn Undead powers and turned the front rank of the zombies, causing confusion in their ranks. Sparkledingle cast Grease, causing many of the ungainly undead to fall over. Then Fangorino really got swinging. As the others fell back, he stood alone, wielding his axe left and right, a  whirlwind of destruction.

Luckily, many of the zombies were in poor shape, held together by brittle tendons, and they easily fell with just one blow. Others, fresher, gave the barbarian more of a challenge, but working together they eventually cleared the corridor of undead and the battle was won.

'I told you there was undead here!' squeaked Sparkledingle to his lady-love as she went around them, healing their wounds.
He just wondered how many more there would be!


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