Our Second Adventure : by Naiden Swiftcaller - Adventurer and Musical Genius

We felt that we had accomplished all we could in Rockyfalls. I know for a fact that all the women in town lusted after me, there were no hearts left to conquer, the thrill of the chase was gone, definitely time to move on.

We each said goodbye to our friends, some of us had different ways of saying goodbye, none of which I will go into here. Perhaps when I write my memoirs at a later date I may go into some gritty details.

I loaded up a Round of Cheese onto Saggy the Draughthorse and was about to set off. I didn’t feel right on Saggy tho, someone of my stature and grace shouldn’t be atop a scruffy old mare. So I convinced my friend Druss to swap with me his new horse, a fine riding horse I named Swiftcanter.

We waved our final waves of goodbye and were off. Not before we each received special gifts from our parents and loved ones. I’m sure I will work out what to do with this old horn at some point. I certainly worked out what to do with the other one I had, o that’s right, save it for the memoirs.

Not far out of town Swiftcanter decided that she didn’t want anyone riding her at that moment and bucked me off. I hit the earth hard but nothing broken, thank the gods. It was at that moment that an opportunistic snake decided to make me his meal. Good thing for me my friends were already hacking into him before I had regained my composure, but I did manage to get in a hit of revenge upon the creature before it yielded to our attacks.

Along the path we found that we had to cross a river. After our last adventure we were somewhat concerned with the idea of crossing more running water. From recent history we knew that a god had died in this river merely a few years back. The river flowed black upon the site which added to our concerns. Crimson decided to throw caution (and good sense) to the wind and plunge into the dark depths of the magical flow. He resurfaced a couple of times then we saw no more of him.

We managed to cross after some thought and planning and a very long rope and a good swim by Druss. We scoured the banks of the other side of the river looking for our companion. We came upon a small wooden hut and to our relief found our friend there casually chatting away to an old couple.

Back on our horses and thrown again we were off on our journey again. Two things plagued me, firstly I was sick of getting thrown from this beast, I mean what was its problem? Secondly, a cheese round to yourself is too just much cheese. I doubt I will ever shit again.

Along the track some more we happened upon a sleeping Ogre. Crimson, almost dry from his expedition to the depths of the dead god’s river decided to sneak up on the creature, unfortunately fate had placed a rather large twig in his way and with a loud crack at the worst possible moment the Ogre was awake. From then on all planning went out he window and a frenzy of weaponry and blood enveloped the drowsy giant.
In the distance later on that day we noticed some black smoke. Following this we happened upon a camp fire. We decided to use this as our own camp rather than making one ourselves. All was going well, we were asleep and Wunderstaff was on watch. Then uncontrollable waif like screaming erupted around us rudely waking us from our much needed rest. Wunderstaff had spied a spider crawl into his backpack. I killed the terror and we went back to sleep.

Back on our journey to greatness I was thrown yet again but this time a casualty, my ankle. From my earthy seat I heard the yells of what could have been bandits accosting someone. No time for pain, someone needed our help, my help.

Over the hill we could see eight men squaring off against our approach. In the middle is an old man, he seemed to fit the description that the old couple had given of a stranger who passed his way recently. He was obviously the target of their interest, but not now.

The ringleader spoke first.
“My name be Rangot and your Toll be ten gold”
I decided to put an end to this tomfoolery; I hoisted my new horn and bellowed through it.
“Cease and desist, put down your weapons!”
The reaction I received didn’t match my expectations. They attacked.
Randall cast a spell of Bane upon the leader.
Druss in a show of expert marksmanship shot the leader in the head.
I decided to test out my horn and blew into it; a blasting wave hit the bandits full on. The resultant shockwave injured the one closest badly; the others seemed to be grasping at their ears.
I drew my rapier as the rest approached. I will put an end to these curs myself if I have to.
My first thrust went straight through one felling him quickly.
In a flashy manner I was well jealous of, Crimson felled two of the blighters with a flourish of his twin blades.
“You’ll never take money from innocents again!” intoned Druss as he pushed his arrow deeper into the bandit leader ending his short but evil reign on the highway.

The old man thanked us but said “Should I have paid, they may well have allowed me to continue unmolested; I am a humble servant of Oghma you know”
Crimson’s reply was not really directed as a response to our new acquaintance “If you will excuse me, I will just loot these bodies”
Then like ravenous she-wolves Crimson and Druss descended upon the bodies of the highwaymen looking for spoils of their brief encounter. An amulet was found upon the arrow headed leader.

We were now right in the centre of the Troll Hills, a place I never suspected I would find myself yet here I was. The old monk, Aduna told of a tale about a crypt in the Troll Hills. I wished then and there that he hadn’t said that. As it turned out we never went there anyway so my concerns were for nought.

Crimson changed once we were in Troll territory. He seemed nervous. He said that something was following him. Ridiculous I thought. After a day of his ramblings and shifty eyed behaviour he slipped even further into his neuroses. He had to set a trap for a Troll he said had been following him for over a day. He put pillows in his tent and fluffed them up under his bedding to make it look like he was still sleeping there. I said it was probably squirrels, huge troll squirrels I taunted much to his chagrin. He then made me take second watch.

I couldn’t put my finger on it but I then must have slipped into his neuroses because I had the distinct feeling that I too was being watched. I guess its alike when someone starts talking about lice, you start to scratch, right? Then my heart leapt. A loud bestial roar echoed in my ears made by something that was right upon me. I screamed thinking my life was forfeit. Apparently it was Crimson’s little joke. I think someone should teach him what a joke is some day.

It was then time for Druss to do his share of the night watch. He too thought he heard a noise. In typical Druss style however, he took an oil bomb from his belt, lit it and hefted it into the rustling thicket. To my amazement a flaming troll leapt from its cover. I decided to use my crossbow for this particular enemy. I pulled back the lever and somehow managed to cut my finger. I dropped the crossbow and kicked it while sucking my injured hand. Another oil bomb, this time caught the troll square in the chest. It had the effect of scaring the creature in my and Randall’s direction, Druss running hot on its heels. The beast spun around with bestial efficiency and slashed Druss across the face with its clawed hand. The suddenness of it all caught the hefty fighter off guard and he fell. The troll bit down and came up with grass; it had missed its target by inches to Druss’s relief. I drew my rapier and thrust it into the green skinned monster. As a reaction to this sudden and unexpected pain it backhanded Druss and Crimson who were closer. It then lunged at me and sunk its needle like teeth into me. Druss took his handy scythe to the still flaming creature. Crimson caused some needed distraction by waving his blades about but generally missing his mark. Two attacks hit however and this hurt the beast intensely. Randall, thinking that Oil was a good way to go from the attacks prior uncapped his bottle, promptly fumbled with it and poured the contents down his front. Druss was clawed yet again and blood now streamed down his face from the wickedly deep cuts in his cheek and forehead. Blinking the blood from his eyes he doggedly continued his onslaught. The creature turned its attention to Crimson who decisively made a defensive roll and escaped the claws of the angry and hurt troll. Randall seemed to present himself as a target to the Troll who was looking for some payback. It lunged at him with a gurgling howl. Randall dodged and shrunk away from the danger, “Not in the face!!” he whimpered. Everyone starting to feel like they had the upper hand of the battle now, one liners erupted from us, “Get the point”, and something about getting the sharp end of a stick and other beauties capped off the eventual doom of the shrub sneak troll. Crimson’s new blade, a present upon his departure from Rockyfalls, started to quiver. He let it go and it flew through the air and sliced cleanly into the troll’s neck. The blood hungry weapon then falls to the ground following the Troll. “Quick, douse it in oil, add some kindling and wood” was the cry. Crimson and Druss grossly filled up their empty vials with the blood of the deceased and soon to be crispy troll. When blood ceased to flow, they then squeezed it out of the troll’s foot. I had to turn away.

In the Lizard Marsh, neuroses still under full swing, particularly now that the power of thought had brought a bush hiding troll into being, Druss thought it time to be tricky. Gathering wood and twigs he made a huge bonfire. He then made a smaller one a few yards away. “This is the one we will use, they will be attracted to the bigger one!” he stated triumphantly.

Later night wolves of all shapes and sizes were indeed attracted to the towering inferno that was the larger of the bonfires. Druss had outsmarted himself.

I decided to climb a tree so as not to be disturbed from weaving the life saving magic I the mere sound of music from my mandolin makes when I and only I play it. Arrows flew and Randall cast some sort of sonic burst spell to drive the hungry animals off. I jump down from my tree haven with a triumphant leap. Once again, not content to leave any bodies be, Druss and Crimson skin the dead wolves. They fashion crude and soon to be stinky wolf head cloaks. The “Wolf Brothers” are born. It is night.

The next day is spent travelling without incident. Perhaps news of our greatness has spread to the denizens of this place. We are on the Plains of the Sword Coast. By evening a road is in sight, as is a merchant caravan.

Being the friendly group that we are we decide to introduce ourselves and find out if our services are required. The friendly merchant, who introduces himself as Ebin takes us in under his camp fire. He offers us a pull on his Pappagapagus grass pipe which the braver among us accept, Druss and I. A general feeling of euphoria and light-headedness fills our minds. It was soon after that our gracious host challenged me to a game of dice. I used my considerable dexterity to win a round or two but it seems that my opponent has no small skill in deceit himself, after 4 rounds I have lost 5 Platinum pieces. Randal decided to win back my honour and challenged Ebin to double or nothing. A challenge he couldn’t resist it seems. Ebin cheated twice and was twice noticed by the astute cleric. Ebin reached out for the winnings anyway, not perturbed by his being caught.
“I didn’t cheat, tell them Ebert!” pleaded Ebin.
Silence
“Sorry he’s mute” Ebin replied, forgetting that his brother was disabled for a minute.
“Leave at once!” Ebin said angry that his deception had been discovered and that his mute brother didn’t speak in his defence.
Randall took the winnings.

We decided to give the angry merchant some space, we camped less than 30’ away. Far away enough to be considered ‘not there’, but close enough to be an annoyance. I played my mandolin quite violently just to be a further pest to the would-be thieving merchant.

Later in the night Druss decided to launch his own little expedition into the pockets and packages of Randall’s belongings. Randall noticed his attempt and promptly imbedded a fat fist in the mouth of the unsuspecting but deserving recipient. The punch was all the more potent because Randall used the powers of his present, the belt around his waist.
“I thought you were that thieving son of a bitch over there!” bleated the cleric after realising who it was that he unleashed his magical fury upon.
“Why you!”, replied the merchant who had been observing and he hefted a small rock at the cleric which hit him in the head.

We held vigilant watches that night. Early morning came about and it was on my watch, I noticed that the sun was coming up over the horizon, that’s when I also noticed the shadow behind me getting larger and larger. I dodge and a blade narrowly misses my back. It appears that Ebert is trying to kill me the cheeky devil. A rumble erupts from his throat, I suspect it would have been a growl if it had a voice box to go with it. He levelled his head at me and tried to push me into our dwindling campfire. I dodged the attack and attempted to have him end up where he intended me to be but failed in my attempt. He pulled out a dagger while I grappled with him and stuck it into my waist. Randall, empowered by his magical belt attacked the intruder, hitting him on the head. The force was such that it momentarily blinded the man and he shook his head to try and recover his sight. Druss was then upon him and pointed his sword at the mutes throat.

Emergency dealt with, Crimson decides to check the caravan for its owner and the one who sent the assassin. Poking his head inside he is surprised by the concealed merchant and gets a nasty sword wound in his side to show for it.
“That’ll learn you thieves!” rasped the incensed merchant. “Unknown to you, you have been poisoned, you will give me all I lost if you want the antidote!”
Not wishing to bargain Crimson decides to find the antidote himself and attacks for the kill. A flurry of blows later and the merchant lies mortally wounded.
He still manages a laugh, “the antidote is in Daggerford”
By this time we had all run up to the kafuffle.
“You cheated me first!” the merchant spat.
“You cheated me better” I said, still annoyed that I had lost.
“He’s lying there is no poison” I say to Crimson, suspecting that the untruthful merchant couldn’t lie straight in bed.
“If I let you go can I trust you?” uttered Druss, the mute nodded. Druss untied the would be assassin.
Crimson starts to feel a terrible pain in his stomach, it seems that the poison is real and is setting about proving itself so. With this knowledge, a bargain is struck that in return for his lost 5 Platinum pieces we were to accompany him to Daggerford and take possession of the antidote. We stipulate that no money is to change hands until the antidote is in our hands or more correctly, down Crimson’s throat and he begins to look a rosier shade of pale. Throughout the day we notice that the merchants ‘mortal’ wounds seem to heal up pretty good much to our dismay. Without anyone else’s knowledge, the merchant and Druss have a secret conversation, the merchant tried to buy Druss’s loyalty but on this occasion our good friend stood strong and declined the offer, I will always wonder if the proper amount of sweetener had been added to the deal if his loyalty would have wavered.

After what seemed an eternity following the merchant wagon we finally arrive in Daggerford. We are led through the city gates and up to an ominous looking warehouse, we are led inside the warehouse and workers begin to close the doors behind us. Randall blocks them from closing the doors, “no ya don’t!” Suddenly other workers spill out of the woodwork, attacking with crossbows. A lucky bolt finds its way into my leg. We run out into the street. A quick escape is formulated; we are to run to the Temple of Tymora, the goddess of luck, Randall’s god.

The priest inside the temple immediately recognises Randall’s garb and holy symbol as one of his own flock. “Were you attacked by bandits my children?”
“Worse! Merchants!!” blurted Druss.
Crimson, mindful of his plight even if his friends have temporarily forgotten says “Can you expunge this poison?”
After some looking over him and some quick prayers the priest says “You are indeed infected by a most foul poison” much to Crimson’s dismay.
“Then let us name the nature of the donation” mentioned Aduna. 90 Gold was agreed upon and Aduna wordlessly paid the fee himself.

We decided then to avoid any entanglements with the local guards and leave immediately for Waterdeep. On our way out the rear entrance we overheard some heavy footsteps, then a voice boomed in an official tone, “I believe we are looking for some bandits, a half orc, a rotund man, another man and a woman dressed as a man” A gasp from myself and Randall almost gave away our position. How rude.
We decided to make a break for it but the guards storm through, the priest must have told them where we were. “You! Halt!”
It was at this time that we noticed that our elderly monk companion had disappeared. I held up my fist and yelled “Arrest this!” in as deep a voice as I could muster, woman dressed as a man, I’m never going to hear the end of this. I vaulted onto the saddle and kicked Swiftcanter into a gallop. Several guards levelled their crossbows at me, I didn’t care, I felt the wind on my face, my hair blowing in the wind, I felt free, I felt…alone. It appeared that my friends had decided against flight and had not followed my lead. I turned the horse around and walked back to them with a growing feeling of embarrassment and annoyance. As the guards took us away the Tymorian clerics came to the front door and muttered “We will help in any way that we can, we will see justice done”, I wasn’t calmed by this, we didn’t even know them.

We were thrown into the city watchtower prison. No furniture to make things comfortable, just some straw. The night is spent in relative silence. We woke to the sounds of keys jingling and locks clicking open, the guards are back and they have brought the merchant with them. “It is very bad how you murdered my poor assistant Ebert!” berated the merchant. Quietly he whispers, “I have a job for you which might just see you out of this mess, I need some goods ‘procured’ from a caravan that is bound for here in a day or so, I offer you the reasonable price of lets say, for free!” We grudgingly accept his offer and I wonder where I would be now if I hadn’t rolled that first dice back at his camp.

“Now I need to instigate an insurance policy” grated the merchant. Guards’ shoot all of us save for Crimson. We didn’t have to ask if the bolts were poisoned. Druss seemed to feel no effects from the poison but didn’t let this on to the gloating merchant. We learn from the merchant that Ebert is to be put to death; he is currently in stockades being hit with rotten vegetables. Apparently the merchant had passed Ebert off as someone else, so that we could still be put to death for his murder. We are then let go.

Randall and I go to the temple in the hopes of getting healed. Randall pays for my healing and his brethren heal him for free being one of the flock and all.

I had a conversation with one of the guards and managed to persuade him to give us an audience with The Lord Justice. Randall was let inside being one of the cloth but I had to wait outside. With some difficulty the portly cleric ended up in the kitchen and other various areas of the building by mistake. He runs into a guard and is pointed in the right direction.

With none of the eloquence that I possess, the Cleric blurted out his story to the Lord and his Head Guard, a strange moustached man. “I sense an air of truth from this young portly man” stated the Lord after much deliberation. “If you fail to produce the truth you speak of you will be executed also” he added casually. “You have two days”.

We headed out to intercept the caravan with the Red Fox emblem as we had been instructed to by the insidious merchant. Apparently this merchant was a rich trader from Candlekeep and had a shipment of silver in his caravan.

We ride out and from no-where the old Monk finds his way back to us again. If only we could have disappeared off to where he did we would have saved ourselves a whole mess of trouble. Twenty miles south of Daggerford we find the caravan, it is not late into the evening. We hail the wary merchant caravan and speak with the merchant himself. After some convincing he agrees to our plan.

Druss rides back with the messenger but does not go into town so as to avoid raising any unwanted suspicion.

The caravan is driven to Daggerford. It is driven into the warehouse and the exchange of antidote made. Crimson drinks it just to keep up the act.
“We killed the owner just like you said, he is buried outside of town”, Crimson lied.
“Where are the rest of our antidotes?”
“You are in no position to bargain anymore!” ranted the merchant.
A worker of the merchant yells out suddenly, “Guards outside!”
“Betrayed!” yells the merchant.
All hell breaks loose.
I blasted the beams of a catwalk bringing down four crossbowmen that were perched conveniently up there ready to shoot. One falls awkwardly on his head breaking his neck with a satisfying but sickening crack. The other three are badly injured and will be out of this fight. Crimson attacks the merchant as usual going for the glory himself. The battle is long but goes in our favour, we take down as many of the escaping guards that were under the merchants employ as we can. Randal chases down an escaping bandit on his mule. The terrified bandit quickly gives himself up for fear of being trampled by the mule or worse, the cleric sitting atop the bowed creature.

The town guards enter with the merchant of the Red Fox trading coster. We have won the day. After another conversation with Lord Justice he concedes that we were telling the truth. Ebert is freed after we personally vouch for him. We are rewarded for our troubles 100 Gold each.

We now plan our journey to Waterdeep. Druss still going on about having a Sythe forged. He is informed that a man called Bortmund in Waterdeep can forge such a weapon. A letter of recommendation is also provided; I wonder what this will afford us?