Osrrealms

Oscar Of course, as soon as we opened the east door, we were attacked by giant rats driven by a (presumed) wererat with a set of pipes. We fought them off at the cost of all but one of the hirelings; I was out of spells, the two new folks from the Gray Company were badly hurt, and there were more rats on the other side of the door and a wererat we hadn’t even seen yet.

Oscar Staying at the Druid and Whale proved profitable. We shared our tale with several strangers who happened to share our table, and they committed themselves to the cause. Apparently this is quite the inn for adventurers, as we were also able to find a number of souls willing to sign up to help for a fee. Sadly, none of them possessed silver weaponry. We would need to improvise. I sold Frederick’s cache of treasure, which he apparently stored in his boot and forgot about, to help fund our expedition.

Oscar A strange man named Roger joined us in the sewers. He seems pleasant enough, and a fine warrior, albeit short a few of his marbles. We told him of our plans for the crocodile and he was in favor. The alligator fell to our blades and my mace, and quickly, despite the size of the beast. I give thanks to Denara’s blessing for that. We struggled to haul the creature’s body to the surface, but eventually succeeded.

Oscar We ended up fighting the wererats, of course. Because of course they were wererats. We did manage to get some additional information from their spokesrat first, though. They worship Arimaniux, a sewer god who was thought to be eradicated 30 years ago. Their nefarious plan appears to be to nap kids (more sinister than it sounds!) and raise them to worship their god of filth. Probably infect them with lycanthropy, too.

Oscar We collected our gear from the wagon and headed back towards the cellar, stopping on the way to chat with a weaponsmith. I had him mount the two dragon scales that were Frederick’s legacy to a warhammer, which I will carry in his name. The smith swears the scales will have no effect on the hammer’s actual function, but I am not so sure. Surely a blow from a dragon’s scales is more potent than one without such materials!

Oscar We made it to Threshold and stored our wagon and gear just outside the gate. We stayed the night at the Druid and Whale, because the alternative inn, a place called The Drunken Knight, only allows women and elves. On our way to the temple of Denara, we witnessed a mugging; a minor merchant had been set upon by three ruffians from an organization called the Debased Currency or something similar.

Oscar So it turns out the knights were in fact bandits; they demanded a toll of three gold each to cross their ford. Honestly, I never knew trolls could be knighted, nor fit into a suit of heavy armor. They complained about barbarian attacks in the area, and questioned u-Heury closely, but I vouched for the boy and he was not of the same tribe causing the problems. They let us pass without issue once the toll was paid.

Oscar Go to Threshold, they said. Bring your wagon, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. Nope. So far, we have been rained on by blood, cursed at by peasants, solicited by naked elven ladies and a golden dragon, and had a very expensive mule eaten by hyenas that were, apparently, better armored than most humans. We ended our trip at a ford guarded by 6 heavily armored bandits… err, knights, until proven to be bandits, which is likely to be shortly.

Oscar I write once more with a heavy heart. The dwarf Girm, accompanied by friends Stria and u-Heury, brought me the ashes of Denara’s paladin Frederick. I knew Frederick but little; we rarely adventured together, fearing that two servants of Denara in close proximity would be too much risk of an irrepairable loss to our goal of founding a temple in this region. I’m inforemed those who knew him better referred to him as “The Apocalypse”, and he certainly lived up to his name, if the tale Girm told is even a little bit true.

Fred We were all badly hurt, so we focused on recuperating while Stria mixed up a lovely treat to feed to the basilisks before we killed them. Some kind of fish stew that came from a faraway land. She said it was poy sin stew. We hired a dwarf named Girm and a man and his toothless dog and set off towards the big tree, with two mules pulling Oscar’s cart that I should really tell him I’ve been borrowinmg.