Black Magic Woman

Employer - Baroness Longford of Longford on Barratry

Summary - The Baroness' daughter-in-law has taken up with foul pagans following the untimely death of her son in the Drow Invasion. She is clearly leading her people into dark demon worship. Fortunately she has a second son able to properly govern the lands of Benetor on Barratry. She wants some mercenaries to oust the demon worshiper and her supporters so that lawful rule may result.

Level: Low.

Party Members

Ignis A 7 foot tall Human Air Mage played by Fabio

Mungo Third Son Barbarian Human Warrior Skin Changer played by Michael M: War Leader & Herald

Boris the Orc Warrior/ Necro/ Loudmouth played by m haycock: NEW Leader.

Horton Mind Mage Human Skin-Changer played by Errol Cavit

Quentin Ulysses Ash Orc Templar Warrior Namerish played by Sean English

Poppy Human Fighter with Bob the Dog played by Karen D.

Dear readers, please be advised while reading these scribe notes that "most" of the details are
accurate, the descriptions of the party members are not especially of myself.
The scribe, even though doing a tremendous job, has placed his own slant on my character which is
based on what he believes to be true. 
So please read on with the modicum of belief.

Quentin Ulysses Ash.

1 Frost We meet the Baronesses' retainer John who confirms that the daughter in law, is indeed wicked practicing foul habits including magic and dancing naked through the hills... we agree immediately to take the job on hearing the latter heinous crime, in fact forget to even inquire what the pay will be... Its all politics and the plan is to replace the dancing daughter in law with the Baronesses' second son, her first son having perished nobly & alone without significant retainers while facing down 200 orc's about to bust through a castle breach. There is no open hostility between the two women, but if my knowledge of womenfolk is any good inside they are glaring at each other like two cats in the same yard. The daughter in law is apparently an ex "adventuress", which to her mother-in-law no doubt has only one possible meaning..... Quentin - not only an orc but also a milk drinking woman fearing Holy Roller to boot, is against my advice elected party leader - last adventure Lady Nicola, lovely lass but a damned pre-Raphaelite held this role & it caused all manner of problems in conducting legalised banditry for some other noble lady. Our destination is the town of Goodbridge where 20 or so retainers reside in a castle guarding a bridge. I will be the War Chief (Military Scientist) & scribe.

After obtaining heavily discounted greater enchantments from the guild, not that I need one of course - it was more by way of reassurance for the others, Boris the Orc & I head out for a departure feast - to toast our gods but mostly to feast on large chunks of roasted meat, tell lies about our daring and meet the local lasses who are suitably enamoured after they see the colour of our silver. Quentin, Horton and the easily impressed Ignis a new adventurer and already picking up bad habits, are off to get an early nights sleep, drink a cup of warm milk & kneel in their slippers & dressing gowns to say their prayers. Sadly the ale turns out to be foul I've been cruelly cursed it dawns on me. A check at the guild's Namer's college reveals that some dodgy black myrrh has been used by the Ensorcerers Guild & that anyone who received a greater enchantment will have two curses. Mine are that the first cup of ale in a day will taste like crap & I will suffer from hives under the moonlight… Well there is good news amongst the bad - only one cup will taste bad. Boris & I head back to the tavern…

2 Frost Boris & I awake in the stable at cocks crow with the Hammer of Thor pounding our temples - Quentin's plan is to ride to our destination so we slept in the stable to ensure they didn't leave without us - it will only take a month each way. John the retainer is not present. he too has been partying - same as everyone in the guild aside from Quentin, Ignis & Horton - & has to be first located and then dragged from the temple of "The One Horned God" where he has signed up for eternal debasement. Turns out everyone is tainted by the dodgy "Greater" - as follows:

Boris- nightmares & spells will cause black spooky tendrils to arise form the earth.

Quentin - a stone will be permanently lodges in his shoe & will always make a bad first impression to others - although as he is a disapproving orc this is no real shock.

Horton - allergic to potatoes & will moult during shape changing - ever wanted to see a shaved cat?

Ignis - will fart while casting magic & contact with the opposite sex will make him change colour.

On reflection we elect to fly & are equipped with 20 hour flying spells. Food will be scarce so we all provision appropriately. I study maps & set way points.

Three hours into the flight we spy way below us 5 giant winged creatures herding people into a cave. We swoop down and engage in bloody combat with 5 griffons who fight to the death - its a near thing as they are damned tough. Everyone of our party stands their ground not giving an inch - you can forgive moral foibles such as an aversion to alcohol & women of easy virtue - in fellows who will back you in a fight!! The prisoners all flee the cave - after seeing our orcs probably & assuming we intend to eat them - but not before making an offering to us of their meagre possessions and running off into the hills . Luckily Quentin is overruled from returning the loot. A search of the cave by Boris' undead helpers uncovers various treasures.

Off we head, flying to our destination. Aquila & Aladar pass quickly beneath us. Boris & Quentin see an orcish fort. We see hordes of lizard creatures on the prowl below. We land 10 miles outside of Konigsberg after 18 hours flight and stay the night hidden in a copse. On awakening John the reatainer leads us as we head mostly by road toward Goodbridge taking about a week. On 7 Frost we note a large queerly rigged ship wrecked on a hill, about 90 feet long ( we are about 200 miles inland). A skeleton crew is noted on deck, and 4 angry minds inside…. There is elvish script on the side - which none of us can read. There is a large breach in the side with the lower deck exposed.

Session 2

Boris the Orc using his foul (but useful) skills at necromancy animates the 8 skeleton crew who walk creakily from the ship where he enchants them again with more foul magic to make them talk to us. They were an airship of Drow elves shot down by (good) elves during the recent battle. Aboard are 4 mages - a mind mage, a celestial and a necromancer & a number of relics & magical items. He tells 7 to bury themselves and keeps one as a servant.

We advance toward the ship feeling an evil chill that make us stiffer, robbing us of agility. There is a dark shadow all over the ship. Moving inside the wreck we come across a large room stinking of malevolence that has evil magical circles inscribed on the floor - one containing a five pointed star & the other a triangle... "Great circles of summoning!!" various of the magically inclined amongst us mutter. A spooky cowled figure emerges garbed in a white robe, a lion-skin belt, carrying a silver sword.. "Garbed in the robes of a Greater Summoner!" Boris exclaims - I'll take him at is word on that one although the colour scheme seems all wrong - I'd have assumed black with bloodstains & embroidered skulls - but no they apparently like white?!

One thing is not in doubt - that he desperately is in need of re-killing - he is of the undead (a lich or a demon at least I am sure.)

Poppy hurls beakers of holy water that set it aflame! Horton tries to seize its mind with his spells! Ignis attempts a lightning Bolt spell! I charge & smite & smite again - but each blow sends cold pain down my my body & I am drained of strength & life force until I fall to my knees... It seems my saga will be one of those shorter ones where the hero dies in the bloom of his youth which wasn't in the plan .....!! In desperation I call on the mighty Odin to let me stand on my feet & fight my foe .... strength fills me enabling me to rise and dispatch the fiend's soul back to the fiery pit it belongs.

Its body is dragged into the sunshine where it melts. Boris says it was a Night Gaunt which I assume is one of the most serious undead types. Boris' skeleton slave searches the ship revealing various bits of loot.

We retire a safe distance (3 miles away) and recuperate & debate how to fight the undead. Quentin the Orc reveals he is apparently more of an aspirational knight templar than a current practitioner & has no magical symbol or holy sword or holy words that will make the the undead retreat in a cowering fashion - he has not even chosen a god yet but simply hopes one of the holy orders will take him in.

"Well its not too late" I tell him encouragingly, "you could chose a decent god like Odin or his son Thor who will want you to drink, feast, ogle the shield maidens & encourage you to fight" (rather than moping around like some guilty teetotal shopkeeper with a bad case of the piles who has been caught by his mother, whom he still lives with, peeking into the women's bathhouse). But he is determined & will not budge. He should be more like Boris who knows that being an orc means - that whatever virtues he might possess & decent drinking companion that he is turning out to be - at heart he is an evil f$%$er & has gone into the race appropriate career of necromancy.

The next day 9 Frost we venture back to the ship & search. Magical Stone ballistae bolts as well as the usual sheets, halyards, spair sails etc are uncovered.

The cabin at the stern lower deck is a charnel house of dead corpses - probably slaves whose blood the crew used as fuel to run their ship...Boris turns 8 into zombies who remove the dead bodies.. little of value is found...

Climbing up to the top deck we enter what must be the crews quarters revealing a variety of treasures - well in excess of what a normal crew would receive - Drow pay well apparently. Its a wonder the guild sided with the good elves during the recent war - knowing the avarice of most of its members.

That only leaves the back cabin... it is sprung open to reveal 4 undead figures swathed in rich garments seated at a table playing at cards - the game of 'Bridge" according to the more courtly of our party. Apparently, Boris & Horton reveal later, they are furious at having to play Bridge for eternity. A deadly battle ensues where a combo of Poppy's holy water, Quentin's not yet holy sword, Ignis's lightning bolt, Boris' axe, Horton's mind spells; and most significantly my twin swords "Hope Crusher" the evil fiends are seen off...

Session 3

A trap door is opened in the back cabin to reveal more corpses - the dead through magic tell Boris the Necromancer they were to be used as sacrifices to power the Drow air-ship. Poppy using her "mana-vision" determines that the mana flow is from a break in the large magic crystal that covered the ships keel & previously powered its flight. Shards of crystal are retrieved.

A group of dwarves equipped with axes & mining equipment pass by - en route to a gold vein that has appeared in local river following geographical upheavals during the war they tell us. We share drinks. They sell several of us sharpening stones for 100 sp each.

We head to a distant Manor House where our employer the Baroness resides. En route we encounter a mysterious stern faced young woman garbed in white. Alana she tells us is her name. She is a disciple of a god "the Devourer" who despite the name is apparently aligned with the so-called forces of good & seeks to devour evil (I swear I saw Boris the Necro twitch when she said that although I could be mistaken). Poppy's mana-seeing vision determines that she is shielded by some magical force & may be genuine in her claim. She has some incomprehensible babble about how "things will continue as they have unless we want things to change" & "balance" & so I assume she is talking about republicanism or some other. We move on leaving her to her vigil.

We meet the actual guards to the Manor House who introduce us to our employer - the Baroness - a well dressed middle aged woman who looks haughtily down her long nose at us. She has the manner of someone descended from 100 generations of men who rode horses & wielded swords (although doubtless the odd silver-tongued Bard or overly handsome stable lad will have featured discretely somewhere in that list - they always do). The Castellan & trusted family retainer is Sir Gareth. She confirms that our job is to remove the "adventuress" & wicked pagan sorceress Rebecca (of Ashford) who resides with her coven of evil & wanton female followers in the keep of Crossbridge (5 miles away) worshiping the foul diety "Chantress" - who I've never heard of. Finally we negotiate terms - 25,000 silvers plus salvage rights.

While we talked Alana beat up about six of the Baroness's guards who attempted to detain her. Tough! I approach her again in attempt to uncover her intent - but she is equally incoherent about our actions being important and having consequences. She won't be pinned downed to specifics because that would affect free will.

Sir Gareth reveals some information: that the keep is heavily fortified, the walls are heavily guarded & 40 foot high. He and the party reject my No. 1 Military Scientist plan of a siege - damn that would have been fun . The party equally rejects my No 2. Military Scientist plan of a contest of arms with me v. Rebecca's champion - can't see why the truth always favours he victor.

Sir Gareth reveals that Rebecca was a commoner from Aladar originally & had studied magic at the SouthHaven Academy for Girls. Her parents reside in a nearby village. The son married Rebecca for love - which is the latest fashion. The Local Priest of the Western Church is Leon with his Bishop based in Konigsberg.

The white garbed Alana is it seems not a republican but a disciple of the "Reformed Spiteful Sisters of Perpetual Disonance" - a gang of disapproving shrewish harpies who promote temperance, bang cymbals incessantly & are aligned with the Michaeline Knights - obviously highly dangerous womenfolk - and no wonder she was unmoved by my "special look only for her" and (un)subtle flex of my biceps, on our first meeting.

The rest of the party (probably excluding Boris), damned surprising since I know the sort of things at least half of them have done on guild missions in the past (because I was there too doing the same thing ) seem to now have moral concerns that we should only depose Rebecca if it is lawful to do so - & are even prepared to reject the Baroness's 25,000 sp contract altogether if not. Quentin's upright & lawful virtuousness must have spread amongst them causing severe memory loss & a faux moral guilt that if they were honest, is imaginary. Now I'm no cold-hearted thug & have no illusions that this job is more about the ancient & noble tradition of a daughter in law in the eyes of an over involved mother being a conniving slut & who unlike mummy is hopeless at laundering golden boys smalls or cooking his favourite sweet-bread tart; than any particular crime on the part of Rebecca. However I don't know Rebecca, or her gods, she is a sorceress & I agreed to take the job - & we haven't even been asked to kill her?!?

An argument arises when Quentin, to my ears, imperiously instructs me that I may not speak during our planned audience with Rebecca (as part of investigating whether she deserves to be chased off) & this evolves into another argument over who should be the party leader. Quentin resigns as Leader & recommends Boris who is elected.

To help bemused readers, yes I did ask him to keep quiet and yes there was an argument to my shame.
But to put things into perspective I only asked so that he would not unintentional put the party in
jeopardy. But once I realized that the argument was taking place in the middle of the road with
farmers and folk all around listening to the party's rather loud conversation, a conversation
in which we, not just Mungo, were divulging our purpose for being here and our plans, I thought the
only good course of action I could take (Cause I think me being party leader was Mungo's problem.)
was to resign and hand the reins of leadership to the next party member, who would accept it. 
Thus quickly shutting down the argument, and we proceeded at a much quieter pace.

Quentin Ulysses Ash.

(... and ""poetic license"" of Mungo continues.)

If it wasn't for the surfeit of decent bards I would not have to do it all myself. 

Mungo. 

Quentin - his tusks still quivering with rage over my comments about the nature of orcs - asks that I tell truthfully if in my mind there is not a difference between he (Noble Quentin) an Orc & Boris the Necromancer also an orc? Hmmm - I weigh it up thoughtfully...... On one hand Boris practices a foul evil & unnatural type of magic but is a good drinking companion, humorous and generally reliable. Quentin is a noble, brave, doughty warrior in fact is probably similar in character to One-Hand Tyr the Fearless of the Northern Gods. BUT he drinks milk & goes to bed early & eschews the company of womenfolk... so its a draw then. "No difference" I tell Quentin whose reddish orc eyes just about pop from his skull in still increased rage. Being noble and decent, instead of swinging an axe attempting to remove my head, he states that he will not speak to me...

We stay the night at the manor. 10 Frost ' Our armour needs to be repaired which will take three days. Poppy, a Merchant, contemplates trade. We hear gossip at local tavern that Leon the Priest has taken up with a foreigner dressed in white.

A visit is made to Leon at his church. Poppy tells us her vision shows that a shield of red emerges from the temple and protects the village in a dome. Red is the colour of Michael the Angel Horton says. Inside Alana is with Leon who is an elderly ex Michaeline Knight. The Devourer is a new god aligned with the Big Four Western Gods. Leon, for a MIchaeline seems exceedingly reasonable & tolerant - he tells us Rebecca is a pagan & a witch but no worse than many & that you need to live and let live with pagans - Is he bewitched himself I ponder later? No apparently the party tells me - they (the Michaelines) get that way - i.e. obtain a modicum of sensibility if they live past 25 which is about 1 in 100 of them. Poppy tells us that the source of the red magic shield is Leon & that it comes from there gaze of a seraphim. Leon says that the Baroness has the better claim at law but as long as Rebecca acts in the name of her husband there are no real issues.

That night Horton & I in our animal forms (leopard & wolf) scout around the village discovering a war band of about 50 orcs armed with curiously crafted staves - dis-similar to the usual style of a quarterstaff - apparently magical staves its is revealed. They are camped in a wood about 2 miles outside the village . They may have been intending to attack the village but are deterred, probably sighting an ambush we set.

11 Frost

A Michaeline Knight, handsome beyond belief turns up to assist with the problem of the orcs ....

Session 4:

His jaw is elegantly square with a cleft framed by perfectly set wavy blond hair that is never mussed. His brow noble & his eyes clear blue. You get the picture – however he is no milk sop or habitué of molly-houses as the thick muscle on his fore-arm and worn sword hilt attest. Praising the look of men is not my style… however if I admit freely that if he & I were sat on stools vying for the attention of the same bar wench, even after I regaled her with my most daring tale & despite his terminal blushing, inability to meet her eye and that he would be muttering prayers into his cup of fresh squeezed prune juice, he would have the edge. .. His name is Brother Empty Head…short for “Empty Head Breeds Heresey” and he is accompanied by 5 men at arms & a gross misshapen hunch-back creature - a "witch sniffer" - who doesn't much like the look of Boris, Noble Quentin, Ignis, or Horton - being either mages, and or orcs, and or a necromancer... Poppy & I, non-spellcasters, seem to pass muster...Quentin maintains a stiff upper set of fangs at this affront.

The Witch-sniffer informed us that Lady Rebecca is not a witch... which since almost everyone else in his eyes is, must be unequivocal advice.

Air-Mage Ignis by communicating with a falcon on the wing, scouts 10 orcs separated form the main troup watching from a hill. He watches them watching us.

We plan how to deal with the issue. Sir EHBH wants to front them bold as brass & ask them to move along or face his steel... an interesting tactic which aside from providing them with an unexpected morning snack, I cannot fault for daring. He is dissuaded.

As we plan further, town folk, peasants and dwarven miners are advised of the peril facing them and advised to seek shelter. In the grip of gold-fever, this advice is not popular or universally heeded. The Dwarves recognise the orcs from their description as being "Salamankari" - off plane mercenaries from a more advanced world. They are tough, organised, clever and rather like most elves, look down on inferior races (i.e. everyone). The staves are alchemical shooting sticks called "arquebuses" powered by "number 8 powder" - which is vulnerable to water. We think we need to capture one, question him & discover why they are here - most Orcish raiders, not having had the benefit of my studies in advanced Military Science, would have been unable to restrain themselves from pillage for 24 hours like this lot have.

Armed with this knowledge, as the dusk gathers, Ignis summons a Storm to put a dampener on their favoured weapons. Meanwhile Sir EHBH gallops around the village in full (shining silver) armour vigorously waiving his (brilliant) sword & rearing his (snow white) horse as a distraction to the watchers. Horton & I in Were-forms sneak up through the river to flank them, breathing water & out of sight ( Guildmember Lothar having been granted a wish for a previous Seagate party chose - GILLS??!!).

Distracted by the storm I pounce on one and wrestle him to the ground while Horton prepares a mind enchantment - Horton intends him to walk himself out of here of is own accord. One of the Orc's companions rushes forward armed, not with a spiked club or glaive, but a bag of jingling coins exorting me to release his friend - now that ain't natural Orc behaviour & thoroughly shocked, I comply. So we gather & talk with the Orcs - with Boris translating (Quentin has taken a vow of Orc Language silence). They are trapped off plane & need to get home. Aside maybe from steel which is rare in their world, we are too primitive for words & they are not too interested in our doings. They agree to remain peaceful while we arrange off plane transport.

The coins are revealed to contain trapped souls - some worthies perhaps unable to pass to the halls of Valhalla, to feast on mead & fight as Einherjar at Ragnorak. Quentin arranges proper release of these souls.

During our enquiries, a Dwarven Miner, tells us has a brother called "Mad Angus", a Rune Mage who lives 10 miles away on a hill & would know how to fulfil the task. "Evil Swine, Rune Mages" mutters Boris the Necromancer, which from his stern tone & the thoughtful scratch to his scabrous snout seems to be more than just "the pot calling the kettle black" - evil conjurers apparently fear still eviler conjurers - so they are no different from you & I really if you look at it that way.....

We travel out there, bang on a (hidden) door which located by Poppy and are greeted by an appropriately mad looking dwarf covered in alchemical stains & surrounded by puffs of coloured smoke. He is Mad Angus & he will do the job but wants as payment either: a basilisk eye or the base of a hydra neck or a giant amoeba or 6 lbs of black myhrr ( well we know where that will be going cheap - about 300 miles south at Seagate ). Everything seems too hard until someone pulls out a piece of the mana infested drow air ship keel & offers that to Mad Angus. "I'll take the lot & do what you ask", he agrees. It takes two days, but by 13 Frost Boris' undead helpers have carried the entire air ship's keel to Mad Angus' hideout.

Angus prepares a portal for the Orcs - offering us some of his special "moss ale" to slake our thirst. Aha! Dwarven Ale - nothing finer if you can get it. Apart from gold, Dwarves love nothing more - Boris, Ignis & I gulp down the mug.... before Quentin DA spells it. Too late - we fall to the floor in the grip of fantastic visions - a glimpse into the mysteries that await us beyond the living perhaps ?!? .. or perhaps not... I come to feeling downright queasy, experiencing an inner weakness as if masculinity & moral strength itself are draining from my body... "Don't worry," says a smiling Quentin to my gathering horror, "Angus' moss beer has just raised your magical aptitude!" "Oh crap, I swear in a fury, so this is what it feels like?!! "Thrice cursed dwarf!!! If Id wanted to be a weasel know it all, I'd be wearing a robe and snitching on my classmates for copying someone else's spell book !?! As I curse, and the others look generally pleased, Poppy negotiates a price for passage with the Salarmanki - a magic axe, a magic crown, magic leather armour 200 soul coins & some arquebuses.

The next 3 days 14-17 Frost are spent - either panning for gold - Poppy (also merchanting), Boris, Ignis, Horton training unarmed combat with the spiteful sister Alana (& learns a skill 1000sp) & I spar with the peerless & expertly martially skilled Sir EHBH. He practices fighting my two weapon attack, I learn how to force an opponent back a hex through cunning move (1000 sp). Of Quentin I am unsure....A plan is hatched - we need to talk to Rebecca - she is no witch & we are beginning to realise is too tough/ supported - e.g Sir EHBH to drive off. We need to find a solution or ditch the contract. We meet with the handsome Sir EHBH at his temple - whose pews have become very well stuffed with cow eyed womenfolk - from the young to matrons in their dottage - all grinning dopely at him & sighing. He seems oblivious. He arranges a meet with Rebecca (apparently unconcerned that he - like everyone with a big E - knows we have been hired to drive her out.).

We approach Rebecca's castle through village streets empty save for the odd tumbleweed. Batwings doors swing noisily on saloons, & frightened women drag errant children into cover. Village folk peer nervously through windows. The stage is set for a classic show-down between good(ish) us and (no longer really) evil - Rebecca. We walk slowly looking straight ahead toward the castle...

We are escorted in castle by servants & meet (formerly-evil Sorceress) Rebecca who is flanked by her attendants: a female Orc ( apparently "a real babe" according to Boris - but I think those tusks & fangs would still get in the way) & a tall thin other-wordly female - from Salamankar. No one moves a muscle & I say, "You know why we are here." She does & we talk. She shows no concern at our purpose, but reveals: her husband fought under Count Engleton in recent wars, her husbands body was never found, there is a possibility that if alive he was taken as a slave to Terranova, a body part if found might still enable his resurrection.... Options now seem clear....

Session 5

It is agreed we will first investigate the battle site. If Rebeca's husband can be retrieved then the whole mess will be resolved. It is 80 miles away, with roads to half way. Rebecca will loan us horses & guards to go to the end of the roadway & we will trek the rest.

None of this was on Quentin's mind apparently, as he makes his move - in like a robbers dog before Boris can blink and without so much as a blush he asks the "Lady" Orc for a 'token of her affection' - my jaw drops at his boldness, by Freyrs magic "sword"! At Lady Rebecca's counsel table & with a room full of people is hardly the place for that sort of carry on - but it turns out he meant something quite different than I imagined & just wants a handkerchief to hang from the end of his lance - she dissapears to her chambers, returning with a nicely carved spear head - that's an Orc for you - no fripperies...

We set off with mounts & an escort to the half way point. This is uneventful for 4 days until 21 Frost when we encounter a 10 mile wide crater (with imps apparently living at the bottom). The road ends here & our horses are left with Lady Rebecca's escorts. We give this a wide berth & travel by foot around the crater -22 Frost We encounter land that is desolate ruined & still has the leftovers from battle- the odd corpse of a man at arms, vultures, a wyvern still with a saddle attached etc. We avoid an apparent ambush set by 2 Drow disguised by invisibility on the third day (25 Frost).

A day later (26 Frost') we come across another crater - only a mile across - this is also the battle site & our destination. Poppy with her fantastic eyesight sees at the bottom - 3 humanoids - apparently necromancers & a large number of zombies - maybe looking for the same thing we are. They are evil scum & not worth trying to negotiate with so we charge in - Boris & Ignis sliding down the crater at increasingly perilous speed on a bone construction war sled made by Boris - & the rest of us by foot. The battle is vicious, bloody & everyone stands their ground, fighting bravely. I almost perish - being much faster than the others I get to the Necromancers (who are hiding behind perhaps 100 zombies & several walls of bones) hoping to slay them & "de-activate" their foul un-dead minions first, but am isolated. Boris' war sled worked well & is recommended as a tactic for someone in a similar situation. One necromancer flees but the other two are dealt to.

Two days (28 Frost) are spent excavating the battle site - using Boris' undead helpers - who have changed sides.

We find: necromancer magical robes, 8 x healing potions, invested bracelets, Rebecca's Lord's sword (he was here!), 2 x magical swords, 3 sets of plate mail, 1 x set of magical chain mail, stone javelins, magical barding, magical maul, mace, magical hand & a half sword, magical shield

By speaking with the dead Boris determines that the Necromancers had been contracted to come here & find a valuable item. No death spot is located. No one saw Rebecca's Lord die in the battle. He was seen taken captive - perhaps as a slave.

A magic glowing box is located that carries with it an aura of foul power - this must be what the Necros were after. The mages draw special circles of magical power around the box.. but before Boris can attempt to commune with whatever may be inside, a voice enters our heads of its own accord, chilling and arcane : We are told by tis entity: the box is the Soul Box of Lord Agrava a Necromancer of the Searing Doom Clan. He was alive at the Fall (30,000 years ago) & is obviously a super powerful & uber evil Drow Lord He arranged for the Necromancers to come here to retrieve the Soul Box. He has a ransom of 1000 slaves & his family reside in Terranova at the city of Haqar.

This gives us potential to trade for Rebecca's Lord.

Boris builds another sled & with zombie power we return uneventfully back to whence we came.

Session 6:

Boris says: "We went back to the Baroness with the bodies and loot. On the way we freed a Village from the control of an imp. We then used the Elfven ways to go back to the guild then learned Drow and got some information on Terra Nova. Then back into the elf ways to go to Terra Nova and are about to meet something BAD in the Elf ways which will be a big fight." Horton says: "As we were heading back we rescued a town from a imp, reported our finding to Rebecca, bought holy water, bought cold iron case for the drow soul, went back to guild through elven portal, spoke with Alandis re: drow city, Learned drow at rank 8 in an afternoon with help of one horned good, and now we are searching for disguises to get into drow territory. in the process we met a black hole that gave us some word of advise".

Session 7

On 12 Snow while traversing the Eleven ways we find & enter the simple unmarked doorway that leads to the House of "Cloaks & Hats" - to pick up some drow disguises before we head to Dylath, Downtown Drowtown. Quentin will go as a slave - apparently no disguise would be good enough. Anyway - it is full of lifelike statues of various races, all labelled -e.g.orc, knights, giants, elves, DROW, etc dressed various clothes etc Eventually Ignis, by using a mirror works out that if the clothes are removed from the mannequins & donned; one takes on the appearance of what ever statue-creature initially wore them. We garb as Drow and leave. From hence forth we look like Drow in every respect. With no one present to pay, Poppy leaves milk & cookies - on the off chance that the owner is a 6 year old child with a pet cat...

Its through the portals to Dylath a Drow city. We arrive in what appears to be an abandoned building to the sounds of a procession outside - military leaders (man - drow), civilian leaders (woman- crow ), all marching and singing the praises of Bune - a dragon demon. It seems the old drunken skald Gygax got it wrong - I can confirm that the Drow don't all have black skin & white hair!!! A colisseum is nearby, as are many ziggurat shaped buildings. Everyone is dressed in the finest of urban garb - the sort where one would be laughed out of the town where I come from as a mincing fool - there is not a fur loin cloth in sight. Non-drow-race slaves are everywhere, sporting different coloured collars to designate their purpose is - e.g. entertainment, admin etc etc Other strange folk abound - including a 10 foot devil walking unassumingly through the streets ! However the overall impression is that the place has fallen on hard times.

Before coliseum is a large banner advertising, in three days time, a huge gladatorial event with the main feature being a bout with genuine "Human Knights v a Dragon Scorpion" - some strange & foul looking beast if the artists rendition is to go by, mind you he has done any equally bad job on the other team - with the knights looking like clunky dullards & sporting the sort of fanciful "evil villain" gothic armour that would not allow you to move your arms more than 25 degrees & with which you'd no doubt poke your eyes out from the unnecessary spikes everywhere & gigantic pouldrons.

A skanky carny-dwarf is lurking shiftily beneath the banner. He lets us know that for a few soul coins he'll let us (5 smartly dressed drow with money to waste on gambling - & Quentin the orc-slave in tow) into the cells to ogle & taunt the knights (doomed victims) pre- bout. We enter through tunnels to snear at them in their cells - calling them ugly oafs to maintain our disguise - as at the same time Horton uses his mind speech spell to try to communicate with them. We gather that Baron Alexander is no longer here - apparently escaped weeks ago & that we can expect something "Big" in there days. They are suspicious of us, but being knights & used to frequent bangs on the steel helm - could well be they are all an arrow or two short of a quiver

We learn from the guards there is a reward for the capture of the escaped slave & pretending to be interested, we demand to inspect the cells for clues. Quentin the Orc-slave with his DA spell discovers evidence of an invocation to Michael which created a magical "gate" for our Baron to make his escape from the cell.

We leave & debate what to do, sticking to the abandoned area where our portal was. While wandering about we hear a low grim voice from the shadows claiming to have seen us emerge from the abandoned portal house & telling us that we are not Drow as the portal is Drow-proof - aha le resistance we think for we are not bound in chains & led away! A meeting is set up at the nearby "Screaming Trent Tavern" later. Four rough looking human woman slaves enter. They are well muscled, broad of shoulder & stern gazed, - warrior women obviously but unfortunately not the sort I like who can (almost) match you drink for drink, eat half a roast boar and fall asleep snoring on a tavern floor. Their leader is called "Strike them on the head until they die" & they unsurprisingly, given their stern aspect, are members of the "Reformed Spiteful Sisters of Perpetual Disonnance." There is a plot to spring 8 Knights from gladiator jail just prior to the commencement of the gladiatorial bouts in there days time. Gladatorial beasts will be freed from cells into the crowd creating panic at the same time the knight's cells are opened. The knights will flee through the sewers and to a jungle camp outside of the city.

In the two days prior to the great escape we lie low, check out the lay of the land and try to shop - but ewe are limited by our cash-flow. We have less than 1000 soul coins

On 15 Snow we meet outside the arena & the plan goes off without hitch. There is chaos with monsters, surprised Drow & slaves running everywhere. We make it through the sewers with the knights to le resistance's jungle fortress outside of the city.

Would you believe it after all the effort were have gone to, Lord Alexander is one of those stubborn self sacrificing noble sorts like Quentin & is very reluctant to leave le resistance & return to manage his Barony (thus enabling us to get our hands on our 25,000 sp fee) . On the other hand he may have just been more cunning than I thought and the prospect of trying to sort out his wife's mother-in-law issues was scary enough for him to get himself captured and hide out in Drow-town. A number of well argued pleas are rejected until ultimately the patriachal call of feudal duty to tend to his apparently adoring & dependant peasants is too much - & he relents. He will return with us through the portal to the lands of Benetor on Barratry to enable these underpaid hapless folk to toil ceaselessly in the fields, for him to afford to rule them...

This proves a little more difficult than we thought having entered the abandoned building - the portal door is opened to reveal.....nothing! no elven pathways to Benetor on Baratry! just a void! By Loki's pustulant & sulphurous buttocks! - we are stuck here. The magic types feverishly ponder all manner of spell to no avail. Those with nautical skill - Ignis & I ponder a highly dubious plan that involves travelling across country to the Eastern Coast & "sequestering" a ship from the Black Fleet and then sailing it to Seagate somehow unnoticed, unmolested & assisted only by Ignis' mighty 5 knot wind spell... Then, just as we start to lose heart Poppy proves her mettle with a Good Idea. We need to first travel first to the House of "Hats & Cloaks" - Of course! we had forgotten we still had the Drow kit! We visualise this destination & it works.

On the other side of the doorway is a large very polite Ogre. He is grateful for the milk & cookies but wants payment for the loan of our Drow disguises. His boss, the Devourer, is most insistent apparently.

For a while now there has been an unanswered question nagging at us - how, fearless & mighty Guild party that we are, precisely could we pull of an exchange for so monstrous an evil as the soul of a 30,000 year old Drow Necromancer in Drow-infested Terranova with his evil & powerful Drow minions ... & get to live, particularly in a corporeal form.

A solution has presented itself & the Devourer will be suitably gratified enough to accept the ancient & malevolent Drow soul as payment and to even offer us residual visitation rights ! - the ogre smirks menacingly & licks his lips at this but the unholy & monstrous Lord Agrava, Necromancer of the Searing Doom Clan is not quite so pleased to learn his fate...

We arrive via portal back in the Barony - but as we walk closer to the castle we see- it is beseiged by an army of 500 - 1000 elves/ orcs and nasty humans... the odds seem roughly even....

Buffs:' Rank 20 greater enchantment - all areas.

Treasure: Griffon Cave: magical mace, gold bracelet (500 sp), magic dagger, magic breastplate & pauldrons size 6, magic candlestick.

Airship: Greater Summoners gear all magic: robe, hat, belt: nature is power, broad-sword (adds WP to strike chance), five black magic candles, a locked trapped chest, curvy dagger. Valuable loot from the crews quarters. Stone Ballistae bolts enchanted with geomancy. Loot from 4 x undead spell casters. 12 x Shards of magic crystal from ship keel. Dwarf sharpening stones - +1 to dam - 5 uses per sharpen.

Salamankari: 1 hand magic battle axe - +1 dam v lesser races +10 enchant weapon, a magic crown - reduce armour by 1 - rk , rk 10 mind cloak 15 witchsight, magic leather armour - SIZE 6, +3 pts/ 3 pts spell port 200 soul coins & some arquebuses. Goldmining - Poppy, Boris, Ignis? Merchanting - Poppy. Crater/ Battlesite: : necromancer magical robes, 8 x healing potions, invested bracelets, Rebecca's Lord's sword (he was here!), 2 x magical swords, 3 sets of plate mail, 1 x set of magical chain mail, stone javelins, magical barding, magical maul, mace, magical hand & a half sword, magical shield. 1 PB each except for Quentin.