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

A Bit of Shopping and fun.
Ebert had endebted himself as a manservant since we saved him.

Druss, missing his faithful hound, Scabby, decided to purchase another ready made friend. A Daggerdale Terrier was given the ingenious moniker of Scabby 2 by our chunky companion and simple companion.

Crimson looked high and low for a trade in deal on his old worn our horse. Finally he had purchased a strapping young heavy war horse.

Druss then proceeded to sell off all the weapons he had covetously stockpiled from the bodies of our enemies, afterall, it was a bit to carry around, even tho the load was distributed between his horse and his own broad shoulders.
Sick of Cheese for perhaps a lifetime, I purchased some trail rations and donated my Cheese to Druss, I doubt he had ever eaten something as cultured as cheese before, im still quite certain he doesn’t know where it comes from.

Crimson found it amusing to strut about town tyring to look impressive. I could have told him that none could do this as well as a Bard. Nevertheless, a merchant soon on his way to Waterdeep with various wares, obviously dumbstruck by the finesse fighters poncing about, thought him a masterful being and hired him and us on the spot for a Caravan job.

While waiting for everyone else to do their thing, Druss found some employment at a local farm doing tasks more suited to his intelligence and frame…hard labour. When Druss had mentioned this to me I must admit my first reaction was a little over the top “Work?! Nooooo!”. In return for his toils he received free board and lodging.

Discovering that our fame had a rather short shelf life and that we would have to start paying for accomodation again, I decided to put my considerable talents to work. I made a deal with the Inkeep that I would literally sing for my supper. On more than one occaision I brought the pudgy man to teers, “you can stay as long as ye like”.
Most nights I brought the house down, on the third night I must have drunk a little too much complimentry ale, that night I only earnt 3 gold in tips. Strangely the night I performed the least well, I had the opportunity to perform in another way, im sure the tavern wench had no complaints if the almost permanent smile locked on her face of post coital bliss was anything to go by.

Crimson booked into the same Inn with money that always seems to be there no matter how much he spends.

Some get life easier, and none more so than the Clergy. Randall was put up by his clerical brothers in the Temple.


That night before my bedroom adventure, a fight broke out, a small distance from the entrance to the Inn, Druss, always one who never leaves opportunity knocking burst through the doors upon the brawlers. One look at the huge manbeast and the brawlers forgot what their quarrel was and after some bowing back peddeling they were gone, much to he hulking fighters dissapointment.

Interested in some entertainment himself, Crimson looked about the Inn for some games of dexterity. He happened upon a game of daggers. He got two bullseys and collected his winnings with a all to sure of himself smile, “Its my warhorse parked out front”. “You have a good hand there my friend” stated the loosing stranger. “Its his warhouse parked out front” quipped the tubby cleric, Randall. The rematch was much closer and the stranger infact won the second round, Crimson managed to break even for the night.

Leaving so soon…

The next morning I woke to a knock on the door. I knew it was the Inkeeper, as he had personally delivered my breakfast from the first day I was there. This morning I would have to share my food it seemed, the lusty tavern wench had slept through, I hoped she would not get into too much trouble for missing her shift. She woke to the noise of the door opening and lazily rolled over to face the intruder. “That’s my wife!!!” bellowed the inkeep dropping my perfect breakfast on the dusty wooden floor. He lunged at me, “you wont leave alive!!” he frothed. “I just want to leave” I squealed, er, I mean I replied in the fashion of a manly man who was accustomed to such threats. Pugilism ensues and I manage to deprive the Sweaty inkeep of a front tooth. “Just leave!”. I didn’t wait for him to rethink the cease fire, I bundled up my gear and exited the inn in my nighty. “Lets get movin guys”

On the road again
One day out of town I found myself on watch duty with Crimson. There was a rustling in the bushes. Not one to over react, Crimson loosed an arrow into offending greenery. “Keep it down!” clacked the guards. Crimson decided to make a game of it as he was sure there was something alive in the shrubbery. “Hey Naiden, see if you can hit it!”. I threw a dagger but missed the entire bush, the dagger flew off into the night, “Shit, wont see that one again!”. Still suspicious of this piece of flora infront of us, we decided to investigate further. “Wait!” Aduna whispered commandingly. He then crept over to it with Crimson and myself. Investigation soon cleared the plant of all charges, there was nothing hiding in its midst. Aduna, still not letting go of the fact that something was amiss, headed over to the trees, we followed. Aduna dissappears. Crimson notices someone behind him and wheels around to face his attacker, it was Aduna. We then heard a blood curdling gurgle emanating from the central camping area.
Upon our return we found the bodies of two of the merchants guards, our ever alertness let us spy a dark figure heading for the other side of the wagon. “Behind the wagon!!” I wailed. Crimson and I tactically took each end of the wagon to prevent any escape of the assassin. Cornered the man in black with the black mask drew his bloodied rapier and dagger again. He made some kind of odd whistle obviously signalling some unknown assailant for assistance, or to unleash his hail of death upon us. We launch ourselves valiantly at the obviously skilled assassin. I miss, intentionally of coarse, setting up Crimson for his attack. Crimson sinks his blade into the man. At the same time Crossbow bolts find thud into Crimson and myself.
Awake now, Druss sends Scabby 2 into battle. The tenacious terrior locks its small jaws on the leg of the man in black, “dirty mutt!!” he howls in agony. Distracted for a moment this gives us the chance we needed, we both drive our point home. The man in black falls to the ground, Scabby 2 still attached.
Crimson puts his foot on the assassins throat “Cease fire or he dies”. He didn’t have to wait long for his answer and was soon sporting a bolt imbedded in his leg, not to exclude me from the non verbal conversation, I soon seemed to sprout another crossbow bolt related injury also.
Two more figures appeared, Crimson rolled defensively under the wagon, or so he likes to explain it, I call it running and hiding but hey. He dragged the first man in black with him, a meat shield I guess. They obviously didn’t care about their companion.
Randall casts his favourite spell, soundburst, an attacker yells in pain and falls out of the tree he was sniping from. See, we knew that some kind of foliage was involved somewhere along the line. While we had battled two more of the merchants guards had been killed.
I remembered my trusty magical Horn of Blasting and blew into it, the resultant shock wave blew a man out the back of the tree he had been sniping from.
Druss gets stabbed a couple of times by another darkly clad assailant, who then promptly trippes over Scabby 2, before Druss could capitalise upon this blunder, the assailant volted back onto his feet and plunged his dagger into Drusses exposed thigh.
Randall casts his Bane spell.
“Are you even here Sanda?!?, didn’t we piss you off ?!?” yelled Randall frustratedly as the wizard fumbled through his spellbook looking for the ‘Right’ spell for this particular situation, much like a master cook does when preparing for a royal feast.
Two tried to escape, Randall commanded one to sleep with the might of his god. I cast sleep on the other, he ran and ran, then his pace slowed and he yawned and said “I might just take my nap now before I escape” then fell to the ground snoring loudly. We truss the two of them up with enough rope to hold a…well a really big thing, you get the picture. Looking them over, we discover that they all sport a red bandanna tucked under their assassins garb.
“What are you doing? The Brotherhood wont stand for this?!” someone yelled from the blackness.
Ignoring his hollow threats we survey the damage.
Druss and Crimson discovered the Merchants bloodied body in the back of the caravan. They both bowed their heads solemly, then they both looked up in unison and yelled, “Were Rich!!!”
Randall spots yet another black clad figure, he tries to Command him to drop to the ground woth more godly migth but fails. The figure pulls back the bowstring and launches an arrow into Druss, interuppting his raptures of new found riches.
“No-one defies the brotherhood” the figure put in again.
Randall, offering the largest target soon found a dagger placed in his back from a well aimed, or not so well aimed throw. Druss spots the assassin and brings him down.
“You wont survive this, the scroll will be ours!” yells the wounded assassin. Not having a single clue as to what he was rabbiting on about I reply “we don’t want no scroll, what have you got on you?” and start looking through his robes for any hidden treasures. “He will get you” the assassin whispered menacingly, and all to confidently for someone who was about to die. His words caused us to fall silent for a split second and that is when we heard it. A great whooshing sound, like the sound of a bat flying overhead, a great big monster sized bat. A massive form passes over the camp site, “What the hell is that?” yells the usually quiet Sander.

Aduna admits, “I didn’t think they would find me this quick, take this scroll, get to Waterdeep”, Crimson takes the scroll. “Run, Run you fools!” Crimson yells, “Show us the meaning of haste”, he says to his warhorse.

Aduna draws his staff.

For the first time I felt an aura of fear unlike any I have ever felt. This must be what they call Dragonfear, for this was a Dragon! The feeling passed quickly, something in me let me keep my head and I could not help but bask in the raw power that the feeling of being in such close proximity to such a powerful and ancient creature as this. I gave Wunderstaff a lift as he had left his horse behind in his panic to put as much distance between him and the winged death that was hovering with great flapping leathery wings above the caravan.

“Give me the scroll!” commanded the dragon in a voice of such commanding power im not sure that I wouldn’t have obeyed if I possessed the scroll myself.

Even in full gallop away from the dragon, I could still hear the great intake of air it took as it prepared to blast fire down upon the caravan, and Aduna. I turn around in time to see the dragon belsh flame over the whole camp reducing it to ash in a matter of a second. At that same time I witessed Aduna the old monk jump what must have been some 20’ into the air with catlike grace avoiding the direct blast.

We all galloped on then Randall had a thought. His belt granted him monkly powers and he was not even of that profession. He wondered what power it might lend to Aduna if he was to wear it. We turned our horses around and rode back to what we assumed would be sure death, but we simply couldn’t let an old kindly monk die at the claws of a big red dragon while we escaped.

The scene when we got back was bedlam. More fire belshed from the dragons maw, the monk rolled away, the blast just missing him. Randall was first on the scene as he had been the first to turn around. He flung the belt to Aduna and told him to put it on. The dextrous old monk caught it and tied it on in one movement. He seemed to almost glow with power in an instant.

Spoiling for a fight, even if it was one that would see him cooked and eaten by a dragon, downed two mystery green potions in the hopes they would transform him into something even huge hulking red dragons feared. Even if this was not the case, he did vomit acid on the dragon which seemed to hurt it somewhat, I don’t think a half orc had ever blasted the dragon with its own breath weapon before, the dragon paused for a moment in shock.

We all pitch in and begin attacking the dragon with whatever means we have at out disposal. The dragon, over its shock of being attacked by an half orc / half black dragon, begins its attack with renewed vigor, probably from the pain it was in from the acid attack. Aduna, being obviously the most powerful of the adventureres is the intelligent beasts main target. The dragon drew in more breath and then feigned a breath attack but instead swiped with its left claw, the monk caught off balance is slashed across the chest, ribbons of blood burst from his unprotected body. The dragons right claw catches the monk again and this time the dragon grips the little man, it rips him apart like a rag doll. Aduna is no more.

With no alternative, I use my horn of blasting for the second time this day, something I know to be dangerous. A blast erupts from the horn and is a direct hit upon the great dragon. The beast falls to the ground dead. A great cheer erupts from my comrades. Then it happens, the horn begins rumbling in my hands then it makes a sound as if I had blown into it, knowing what is about to happen I throw it as far as I can, before it is very far from me it explodes in a great sonic boom in my face, the blast catapulting me into a nearby tree. All goes black for me.

Apparently while I was at deaths door, some of my friends thoughts turned to wealth and the acquisition thereof. Druss noticed a hopefull twinkle eminating from the dragons carcass. Coins and gems had become caught between its scales as it slept for a millennia on its gleaming bed of loot. Tantalising hints of the dragons actual horde that we would never find.

During this I was brought back to some semblance of consciousness, just in time to join in the great Dragon skinning operation. Apparently the idea was, we were going to get as many scales and other saleable portions of the beast, we were to have made, wondrous scale suits of dragon armor and hock the rest of the giblets to component hungry wizzards.

Barry the merchant and his caravan met up with us along the road.

Randall, myself and Sander Wunderstaff head to the city. The rest remain behind to guard the dragon carcass and continue farming components.

When we arrived at Waterdeep I regaled the patrons of an Inn there of my heroic deeds in felling the dragon and sacrificing myself in the process. It was truly one of my greatest performances.

We then had an audience with the Lord of Waterdeep. Lady Tia invited us to a ball that was being held in a few nights time. Right up my alley.

We manage to locate a team of experienced dragon skinners who will help us in breaking the dragon down into profitable portable portions. They set out immediately and before long, we are all reunited again.

As a reward for ridding the area of a particularly nasty Red dragon, we are given a two story house situated behind the city keep stables, down wind unfortunately. The smell of horse droppings permeates every room in the poor old building, in various states of disrepair.

We sold the carcass, apparently it may feature as an exhibit somewhere. Crimson, Druss, Randall and I ordered matching Dragonscale Plate armor sets.