Gaming

Faran Magebane A cave-in blocked off the passageway behind us, and we were forced to look for alternate routes. We found a strange passage into the depths after a brief search, though the passages showed evidence of water leakage. I thought about warning this group of misfits that the caves were likely unstable. But then, it was the only path forward we could find, and we had just had a cave-in.

I slew the wounded rat I was facing with one swift blow, but the big fucker stepped in to take it’s place. I gave him as nasty cut with my Yggian borrowed blade, taking a blow in return that destroyed my shield. Kiba stayed long enough to pull some spikes from my backpack to secure the southern door, but then fled. That rat bitch Vee joined the big rat, waving some sort of censor filled with toxic gas.

Of course the second guard paladin at the bottom of the stairs stopped me. I tried to reason with him, explaining that I was on a mission from thew Goddess. He was symapthetic and “let” me knock him over and run past with Kiba close behind. We didn’t get much farther – yet another guard paladin blocked our way and this one wouldn’t let me pass. I wasn’t willing to fight him, so we got frog-marched back into the entrance room and disarmed.

With purses fattened by wererat gold, we set our plans in motion. Ygnas held a party announcing her vacation to Candletown or some such place, honoring her bargain with the rats but leaving the gold they paid her with us. Rowen did the same with a different destination. Pluck was still detained. Old friend Lyrian and new friend Kiba with her dog Kiki joined us from the Glorious Blades. Rumor has it Kiki used to run a delivery service.

Buzz Stonebrew It all started over a barrel of dwarven ale. My barrel, that is, which I planned to enter in the guild of brewers’ contest. But the night before the contest, I started drinking early – a bit of a pre-celebration of winning. And then I woke up before daw, head pounding, to discover that my prize-winning barrel of dwarven ale was one of the barrels we tapped the night before.

Joined by Rowen, Clubeck Pluck, Ygnas, and our three bandits, we descended once more into the sewers. I consulted Oscar’s notes and set the valves to drain the swamp around the base of Cloacina’s shrine. I would say vows before her image, and hope for her blessing to bring with me against the rats. When I swore my vows, she appeared before me in a vision, and told me of Arimaniux’s plans to use the sacrifice of children to rise from a demon prince to true godhood.

Hey, Peanuthead! What’s that? Hey, pesnuthead! C’mere! It’s like my daddy’s voice when he dreams of torturing the souls I eat for him. Except… No, this way! “Can the rest of you hear that?” Apparently they can. This is new. Also, my demonic daddy never called me peanuthead. We decided to investigate. I sent my second son – or was it third? anyways – ahead to scout and he promptly got lost.

We explored the sewer systems thoroughly, looking for any changes from the previously unknown configuration, but found nothing changed in the sewer layout. Except, possibly, the cow-eating tentacle monster was gone. We did happen upon two wererats carrying a young man names Giles (clearly destined for a life of vampire hunting) into the sewers. He called out for help, and we arrayed for battle. But our new friend Clubeck cast some sort of spell to knock them out without a real fight.

Feverborne We left the poor dead wererat girl down in the sewers. Bringing her up to the surface and trying to collect a reward for a dead girl whose wounds matched our own silver weapons would be awkward at best, and very very awkwardly fatal for us at worst. Once back on the surface we took stock of the situation. My magic sword didn’t work, Ygnas’ god was slacking off on the job, and our halfling had just walked off, admittedly after doing well for such a stout fellow.

Alamar I didn’t even get the chance to introduce my son around before we were attacked by four more huge spiders. The goblins promptly fled, leaving us to face them alone. Soggy was drugged out of his mind and did nothing useful. Creg was awake but spent more time wrapped up in webs than casting spells. Faolain was barely managing to keep us alive and Prim was the only star of the fight, killing all four of the spiders herself, though I made large contributions by hurting two of them very badly.