[GAME] - Blenheim's palace in sight!

Lafayette paced back and forth as Garf proceeded to question the old man. The affinity between the old storyteller, now revealed as a sorcerer, and Garf (such as it was) had led the bounty hunter to suggest that he be best to ask the questions. Garf began to ask the old man who he was, and unsurprisingly Garath was less than forthcoming. The old man just repeated the same thing, "He knows you are coming". Garf repeatedly tried to get out of him who this "he" was, but Garath would just smile and reply, "You know who". There was no fear in the old mans eyes, rather they were the eyes of one that has been around the world and who viewed his current predicament as a minor inconvenience.

Lafyette gradually grew more impatient, and before long headed over to where Garath was tied. Garath smiled, and prepared himself for the old "good town guard/bad town guard" routine, evidently having seen it before. Lafayette grabbed the old man by the hair and lifted his head, looking into his face. "Look old man, tell us who knows we are coming, and we might let you go, ok?". Garath laughed derisively, but as he was about to speak a crossbow bolt suddenly pinged through the night and struck him squarely in the heart, killing him instantly. Quickly, Garf, Lafayette and Brad spun in the direction from which the bolt had come. "Stay here", whispered Lafayette, who then burst off into the night to track the assassin.

Garf laid the body of Garath down, sighed, then signalled to Brad that he would take the watch while Brad could get some sleep. Their night passed uneventfully, and as the morning began to dawn, Lafayette returned, shaking his head at Garf's questioning look. The trio settled down to some breakfast, although the talk was sombre. The events the previous night had left a sour taste in the mouth. They had obviously been too trusting to take Garath at his word, now the old man was dead, and they were no nearer to solving the mystery of the disappearance of Lord Blenheim and his family. Presently, they broke camp and continued north, occasionally hearing the sounds of a large group of men shouting in unison coming from the direction in which they were headed. They came to a bridge, at which point the land changed remarkably, from scrub and brush in the mountainous foothills in which they had been travelling to a well manicured lawn and trees. Garf and Lafayette exchanged glances then Garf headed over the bridge with Brad following. Lafayette, however, found it impossible to cross, finding an oppressive force preventing him from crossing the river every time he tried.

Several hours, and several hairbrained schemes later and the group were still no further on. Garf and Lafayette made their way forward under Lafayette's instruction to scope out the palace up ahead, while he set about trying to solve his predicament. Garf and Brad made their way through the little copses of trees on the lawn, eventually coming in site of the house. It was a large stately home, with a semi-circle of gravel in front, surrounded by a low wall. They suddenly heard the sound of footsteps coming vaguely in their direction, and tried to silently hit the wall for cover. Garf's mail armour jangled noisily as they dove for cover and the guards spotted them, rushing over with swords in hand. They were dressed the same as the monks that had assailed the party all the way north, but with the deadly addition of swords at their sides. "We'll jump them on three", whispered Garf to Brad .. "One .. two ..", "Wait wait", whispered Brad, "Is it go on three? Or three and then go?". Garf rolled his eyes, roared, "THREE!" and leapt out from his hiding place to assail the guards.

Brad focussed on ripping the weapon out of the hands of his guard, while Garf swung his broadsword liberally in the direction of the second guard. Brad swiped the sword from the monk then laid into him with his fists, while Garf scored a telling blow with his broadsword. Presently, the two monks were dropped and a weary Garf slumped down, bleeding, behind the wall. Brad looked at him grimly, then put Garf's arm around his shoulders and the two made their way back to the bridge, finding Lafayette stood there with a stupid look on his face.

Flashback - An old Abbot's warning (Garf)

As Garf walked into the corridor the door to Bishop Kempos office closed behind him. He stood for a while uncertain of what had just happened. The opportunity he had just received was quite amazing. The prospect of a Church of his own was exciting to Garf. Under other circumstances he would have put it down to his high academic achievements but he couldn’t help thinking that the events of the previous night must have a bearing on his situation. There was only one man within the monastery that Garf truly trusted with a matter such as this. He walked down the corridor towards the room of Abbot Dias-rut. The Abbot had been Garfs mentor from an early age and he had always found him to be a wise and honourable man. He knocked on the door ‘Enter’. Garf walked into the room to find the old monk sat in his chair. He looked frail and tired but this was no surprise to him. In recent weeks the Abbot had fallen ill, and although he had managed to hide this fact from most of the other monks those close to him had seen the true extent of his ailment.

“Ahhh, Garf”, the old man gave a weak smile. He was pleased to see his student, he had always liked the young cleric. “How may I be of service to you today brother”. Garf moved closer to the abbot “I have had news from Bishop Kempo. He has asked me to travel to the city of Weddenvale and take over the Church there”. The Abbot looked thoughtfully at Garf “That is indeed an honour for one as young as yourself”. Garf nodded respectfully “I have been asked to leave immediately. I was hoping you may be able to offer me some advice”. Garf could see the Abbot was tired and the effort of maintaining his concentration on the conversation was beginning to take its toll on him “Advice hmmm, let me think..... “. The Abbott sat back in his chair and his head fell slightly to one side as he began mumbling. “Advice ...yes ...” the abbot paused as if searching for a distant memory and then the concentration on his face faltered “Garf could you please pass me some water”. Garf walked through an arch into a small ante room to the Abbots chamber. A small jug and a metal goblet stood on a table in the corner. Garf filled the goblet and was about to return when he heard the Abbot from the other room. “Garf, the pendent on the table, the one on the right. Could you please bring it for me?“ Garf looked down at the pendent. It was inscribed with a symbol of Kord and from the other markings on it he could tell it obviously held some magical power. Under normal circumstances this was the kind of thing Garf would avoid. He had heard stories of what happened to the unwary who naively meddled with such objects but Garf trusted his mentor and obediently carried it back to him.

The abbot seemed to have become paler in Garfs momentary absence. Garf passed him the water and he took a small sip. The abbot started to speak and Garf leaned in closer to hear. “I have no advice for you young Garf, my current ailment has robbed me of much. I can however offer you the pendent you are holding. It will protect you on your journey” The old man coughed as his words became broken. Garf put his hand on the Abbots shoulder “Perhaps you should rest now I have troubled you enough ...” The abbot grabbed Garf by his robe with both hands and the metal goblet fell to the floor with a dull metallic clang. The sudden burst of strength from the sick old man surprised Garf as the Abbot pulled him closer. The look in the Abbots eyes had changed, his eyes were wide with fear and his voice was reduced almost to a whisper. “Don’t underestimate someone tall and reverent inside” he stared into Garfs eyes for a moment and then slumped back into his chair.

Garf stood, shocked at the sudden outburst. The Abbot sat there mumbling the same phrase and Garf could tell he was exhausted and no longer even aware of his presence. Unsure of what to do for him Garf thought it best to let him rest. “Goodbye old friend. If I find a healer in my travels who can help you I will send him here” .

Garf left the room and made his way down the corridor. He did not know what to make of the Abbots warning. It would seem that the abbots illness had started to affect his mind but Garf resolved to heed his warning none the less, the least he could do for his mentor was give him that much respect. As he walked back to his cell Garfs mind turned to the prospect of his new Church with excitement and without really noticing his paced quickened as he made his way to make his preparations for the early morning departure to Weddenvale.

Quiet conversation at the Temple of Osiris

Location ‘The Dale-lands’ in a forest north of Cormyr.

Two clerics are walking in a courtyard devoted to the religion of Osiris.

/Sister Layla: Tis a lovely day in the Osiris land this morning Kamilah.

/Brother Kamilah: I agree Layla. It is a very glorious morning. One perfect for an occasion as special as today’s. You will be attending the ceremony for the dead and the indoctrination of our new members Layla?

/Layla: Of course Kamilah, its something which our noble god insists on attendance for and something which is a great honour to be part of. Which ceremony of the dead will the high priest be leading on this fine day?

/Kamilah: The death of our religions clerics during the hellgate keep war. An ordeal our noble order went to war for, following the assassination of Pandorren, a great patriarch of Osiris’. He will be honoured equally.

/Layla: Of course: I read of Pandorren during my religious studies. Where is he buried, somewhere near mount Osiris I expect?

/Kamilah: Unknown Layla. His body was never recovered. He was fighting alongside his brother when an assassin shot him in the back. A battle between his brother then ensued between the assassin and his accomplice, a magic user of some considerable power if I remember the teachings correctly.

/Layla: I was never taught this in my schooling.

/Kamilah: Perhaps the books they used during your time were considerably condensed as opposed to my time. Nevertheless, it is true. Apparently an explosion occurred, which wiped out a section of the town where the fight was occurring. Many people perished. Nothing remained of Pandorren.

/Layla: That’s quite a tale Kamilah.

/Kamilah: I agree. Interesting enough, if you believe in folklore, the prophecy does however speak of his imprisonment by the demon Lillith, a vile creature of the nine-hells and that sacred scroll, which could resurrect or free Pandorren. It all sounds abit far-fetched to me I have to admit. As you know Layla, you must have a body present to perform a ‘raise dead’ spell.

/Layla: I agree completely. There is no other way to retrieve the individual’s soul to a body.

The two clerics walk off and enter the church of Osiris, at the base of mount Osiris.

Flashback - At an unknown time (Kempo)

Abbot Dias-rut sat in the anti-chamber awaiting an audience with the Bishop kempo.

/Bishop Kempo: Abbot Dias-rut. How honoured I am to have you back in Waterdeep, at the church of Kord. It has been to long old friend.

/Abbot Dias-rut: The pleasure is all mine Bishop Kempo. The Abbot kneels and kisses the bishops ring. I come to you Bishop on a private matter, which may require your attention. May we speak in private?

/Bishop Kempo: Of course Abbot, follow me into my private chamber.

The bishop leads the Abbot down a series of corridors and enters a private study on the south side of the room.

/Bishop Kempo: please take a seat Abbot. What troubles you my son.

/Abbot Dias-rut: Bishop, you know my devotion to the word of Kord.

/Bishop Kempo: you are one of Kords most loyal servants, a real credit to his greatness.

/Abbot Dias-rut: Thank you bishop. Please do not smite me when I say this, but lately, I have been questioning Kords intentions, and feel dis-attached to him. I feel I want to be, well … in the service of someone else. I cant explain it, its just how I feel. It’s very odd but my heart is strong and my mind is made up. Please don’t be offended with me bishop.

/Bishop Kempo: I’m not offended at all Abbot, relieved actually. Do you love and believe in me Abbot.

/Abbot Dias-rut: absolutely bishop. I would follow you to the end of the realms if you required it of me.

/Bishop Kempo: Very well, I have a proposition for you Abbot …

Some flashing lights occur within the context of the room, and one final thing is heard. I accept your proposition Bishop Kempo, whispers Abbot Dias-rut . . .

Flashback - Five years ago ... (Lafayette and Rampen?)

Location: The sharp sword tavern (Near Baldur’s gate), a roughneck bar where only the lowest forms of life exist.

Timeline: 5 years to present game-day

/Andor: Jade: how good of you to take me up on my invitation, and ride across halfway across Cormyr and the rest of the realms to meet me.

/Jade: How could I refuse Andor, with such a tempting offer. Jade stretched her long bare arms, and indicated to the table, which Andor occupied. I see you have the right wine already poured and a satchel no doubt, containing the payment, which I expect for each job, whether or not I complete it.

/Andor: of course Jade, you know me, I’m a man who appreciates and respects employees with the right requisite skills, to perform the highly demanding jobs that I offer. And of course having the right looks never goes amiss.

/Jade: Your such a lying son of a jackal, but I appreciate the flattery nevertheless. What is this job on offer? You met my ostentatious fee without hesitation and even added a further 30% if I met you straight away. I know your wealthy Andor, but 500,000 gold pieces is quite a paycheck to sign.

/Andor: it is indeed. But nevertheless I have brought your payment. Andor points to the portable hole contained within a small satchel. And you know my word is good Jade, I have never failed to pay you.

/Jade: very true Andor.

/Andor: have you completed the first objective? War is coming, and certain obstacles need to be removed before the ‘Major’ plan can go forth.

/Jade: the first objective is complete. Jade tosses Andor a schematic for the city Selquinta, located on the ruins of dragonspear castle. You can see Andor, the annotations where Sentries are located, key building, and so on, all as we agreed. I took me 11 months of work and much … *cough; * … to achieve that level of detail. I’m sure you appreciate the fine details of my work

/Andor: well done jade, excellent work. That city is of highly strategic importance. And what of the second objective? Has mayor Rampen been removed from office, and had his head decapitated from his body.

/jade: you sound like you dislike the individual? Jade smiles evilly.

/Andor: I have never met a more stubborn mayor in my life. Refused all of my bribes to step down and leave peacefully. Even had the audacity to kill two of my men, piss on my gold, and send it back to me.

/jade: I have to admit; he has a certain style about him. But yes, the second objective has been completed. I employed 3 bounty hunters to take him down. He killed two of them with a single strike with is sword, but the third got the jump on, and after a brawl, which most bar-fighters would respect, Mayor Rampen, went down.

/Andor: he killed him ! ! !

/Jade: no. The contract wasn’t specific enough, so he brought him to the Bounty Hunters guild dungeon, and is awaiting collection by me.

/Andor: have you paid this ‘bounty hunter yet for his services. What was his name?

/Jade: Lafayette. And no not yet.

/Andor: Ah, you have plans for his as well. Your not going to use that old ‘staff of withering trick on Lafayette, and age him to death instead of paying his fee.

/Jade: Of course I am Andor, he a bounty hunter, and no longer of further use to me.

/Andor: Andor laughs. Well, I feel sorry for him, what a terrible way to go. Death by aging.

[GAME] - Garath is not what he seems ...

Though a leaden sky still threatened overhead, the snow that had dogged the companions throught their journey mercifully held off as they began their fourth day of travel to the palace of Lord Blenheim. The old man, Garath, continued to entertain the adventurers as they made their way through the foothills. They did not see a living soul as they travelled, and it was up to the old storyteller to keep spirits up. "Give us a tale, old man", demanded Lafayette. Garath, being the talkative sort, was not about to refuse and launched into a tale of tragedy and woe called, "The Princess with the face of a Gnoll", a truly sad story of unrequited love and jealous betrayal.

Presently the short day turned from light to darkness and the companions sought out a suitable place to camp. It bemused the small man with the white beard that trailed them throughout the campaign that they never stopped in daylight, but that was their choice. Lafayette, ever the antagonist, attempted to goad Garath into gathering wood and starting a fire, but as the old storyteller pointed out, he was a rather unwilling companion of the group and was not about to do their work for them. Grumbling, Brad walked off into the woods and started poking around for firewood. Presently, with a compfortable fire going and tents pitched, the group were well fed and thinking about bedding down for the night. It was Brad's turn to take first watch, a duty to which the young barbarian took without complaint.

Before sleep, Lafayette again started to question Garath, sensing motives that may or may not have been nefarious in nature. When the old man's answers grew evasive, Lafayette set upon him and starting trying to rifle his pockets. Garf looked on aghast, "Stop assaulting the old man! You can't do that!", he shouted. Lafayette was indignant, "Of course I can! He's hiding something". For his part, Garath kept trying to whack Lafayette on the head with his staff. Lafayette persisted in rifling the old man's pockets when Garf came up and tried to pull him away from Garath. Lafayette shrugged Garf off easily and turned back to the task in hand. Garath reached into his pocket and concentrated for a moment. "The cleric is attacking you, you should defend yourself", was all he said. This seemed like the most perfectly reasonable suggestion in all the world, and Lafayette immediately left Garath alone, and turned to run at Garf. Swinging a punch, he connected with the cleric and was about to knock him out, when Garf tapped him on the head with his mace. Lafayette fell to the ground dazed.

The respite was only short, Lafayette was quickly on his feet and seeing Garf as a threat. The two men grappled for a short while before realisation dawned on Garf that Lafayette had fallen under some devious trickery. "Wait! I'm not attacking you!", he yelled at Lafayette. The bounty hunter blinked twice and the spell left him. Both men spun quickly towards where Garath had been standing, only to find a tree where the old man had been. A quick search for tracks revealed none, and the two adventurers surmised the old man must still be around yet invisible. He had shown himself to be a little more than just an old storyteller, and the companions were taking no chances. Garf wildly poked at the air, while Lafayette made a firmer search for tracks around the spot where they had last seen the old man. Lafayette's dog picked up the sorcerors scent and immediately went to a puch where the old man kept his things. Garf followed the dog and took out a map that the old man had been carrying. "Can you make anything of this?", he asked Lafayette. Lafayette took the map and began to read. Without warning, a brown mist began to emanate from the map, which shortly coalesced into the hideous form of a huge snake! "Gods!", cried Lafayette, as the snake reared, bared its fangs and lunged at him. The bounty hunter drew on his reflexes and threw himself aside as the snake struck. When he had finished rolling away, Lafayette quickly looked back. The snake was gone, and in its place stood Garf with a stupid look on his face.

They continued to search for a while, and when no further information was forthcoming, Garf agreed to take his watch and set off as Brad returned from the watchpost. Some hours into Garf's watch, the young Cleric's daydreaming was interrupted by the sound of quiet footfalls back at the camp. In characteristic fashion, Garf froze, and lay frightened at the watchpost straining his eyes in the dark to see who was moving about back at the camp. The dog began to bark at something. This roused Lafayette, who poked his head out of the tent just as his dog, Fluffy, charged the now materialised form of Garath. The old man was taken by surprise as he tried to sneak away from the camp, as Fluffy launched himself at him! The dogs attack was enough to set the sorceror off-balance, and he got a nice mouthful of Garath's robe. Garath recovered himself quickly, and reached out to lay a hand on Fluffy. Icy tendrils of cold spread from his five fingers into the body of the dog, which quickly went limp as the life was literally frozen out of it. Lafayette yelled in anger, and dragged himself to his feet, pulling one of his throwing axes from his belt and hurling it in Garath's direction. Garath tried to dodge, but the axe caught him a glancing blow on the shoulder, causing a yelp of pain. The sorceror then again began to wave his fingers in the now familiar way of a sorceror, and within seconds a green web appeared to shimmer its way into existence around Lafayette. Lafayette dived to the side when he saw what was happening and narrowly avoided encasement in the web. Garf had recovered himself at this point and ran back through the woods to loose a bolt in the direction of the sorceror that went high and wide.

Lafayette bullrushed the old man, and connected with his midriff with some force. Garf jumped over to the fray and also tried to charge into the fight. At the last moment, the grappling pair rolled to one side, and Garf's charge was interrupted by an upturned tree root that sent him sprawling on the floor. Garath broke free from Lafayette's grip and tried to escape, but fell headlong over the prone Cleric, who grappled him, Lafayette then got involved again and together they kept the old man down. A few punches to the side of the head later, and while Garf prevented the sorceror from gettting at the assorted objects in his pockets, Lafayette had Garath hog-tied and propped up against a tree, looking less than pleased with himself.

"Now", growled Lafayette menacingly, "We are going to have a little talk, you and I"

Flashback - Five years ago ... (Lafayette)

Timeline: 5 years prior to present in-game date.

Location: The firedrake in pub in the city of Cormyr.

Two warriors appear to be having a chat in the bar.

/Mylo: Have you ever met Bakari Monsoon before Phar?

/Phar: I know he's a bounty hunter like one of us, and yes, I have met him once. You not seriously going to invite him on our hunt? This guy is bad news.

/Mylo: What makes you say this Phar? He comes highly recommended and we need help with this highly skilled sleazebag that were currently hunting. Or rather the pair of them.

/Phar: He’s abit weird is all Mylo.

/Mylo: Weird, how?

/Phar: We’ll his left hand is false, and he has a spring-loaded blade contained somewhere within the stump.

/Mylo: That’s colourful.

/Phar: He also hangs out with a vampire … Popular rumour says he lets the bleeding thing feed off of him ! ! ! Its not natural Mylo. The guy is creepy and bad news.

/Mylo: we’ll I have to agree with you there. But nevertheless, he’s got some bloody good skills. Did you hear of the bounty he recently brought in alive; Lord Pelias.

/Phar: Lord Pelias … The bleeding guy is crazy. Would skin you alive. Executed his own mother for sneezing during breakfast, and the waterdeep gazette reported him “ “ biting a horses eye out for the fun of it” ” ” Nevertheless that’s a very impressive mark captured.

/Phar: so you have enlisted the help of this bounty hunter, along with us two to hunt two men down. That seems a little over the top, don’t cha think? Hardly sporting.

/Mylo: This hunt will require him. Were hunting two top-notch scumbags and each one is worth a kings ransom if we succeed. Funny enough, Bakari said he would help us for free on the second hunt.

/Phar: wow … free help.

/Phar: Ok Ok Ok. He can come. What’s this convicts name were hunting?

/Mylo: The first is some loser called Rampen. Apparently the guy has more enemies than a King’s executioner. And the second one is some religious crank. Oh there is Bakari now …

Flashback - The Siege of Waterdeep Pt II (Lafayette)

… Flash back … The great gnoll siege of water deep.

/Lafayette: M’lord Kempo, I’ve had to split my batallion and defend both the north city wall, and the west side where your residence is. I/2 of my batallion is here to defend your clerics hospital.

/Kempo: Master at Arms Lafayette, the west wall is about to be breached and I would encourage your group to defend that wall, because of its proximity to my church”.

/ Lafayette: Sir I acknowledge your point, but the hospital will need a several sentries to ensure the civilians are kept safe to be healed by your clerics. I propose that I leave 10 soldiers at the Church of Kord, while the rest of us move to the west wall, to ensure all the bases are covered. M’lord Kempo, where are your healers. Has the hospital been attacked.

Suddenly at that point, the west wall is breached and Gnolls begin entering the city. The sounds of sword clatter, shield bashing and screams penetrate the west side of the city. Sir, never mind the hospital issue, I need your clerics to follow the rear of my batallion, to help with healing and ensure no one flanks us.

/kempo: Your absolutely right Lafayette. Lead forth and the clerics will cover your rear flank.

Lafayette’s team charged the Gnolls and unbeknown to them, the clerics all disappeared quietly inside the safety and security of the church walls, and the team were cut to pieces. Gnolls stormed the west side of water-deep and scattered throughout the city. The invasion had begun…

/Lafayette … bleeding and presumed dead lay on the battle-field with a squad of dead-troops around him. We were winning, where the hell was the healing and the rear-cover when we needed it. It became painfully obvious to Lafayette what had just transpired.

Some time later, when the invasion had finally been fought off, many key officials were being heralded as heroes, one being Bishop Kempo, for his religious help during the time of crises. During the procession through the Waterdeep, The lord mayor held an audience before the people and many as 100 officials were awarded metals of honour and valour. Most notably was that of Bishop Kempo.

/new caster … Bishop Kempo, have you any comments to say before you receive your award from the Lord mayor of Waterdeep ?

/Kempo … yes young man I do. Honour is the most important thing that exists and the people of waterdeep should all be proud of their braveness during such an ordeal.

………………… An arrow strikes Bishop Kempo in the knee , and a lone soldier approaches the bishop … The bishop retaliates with a small short ceremonial sword and decapitates the hand of the would be assassin. The assassin presses the attack and strikes a blow to Bishop Kempo’s head, which knocks him completely out. The assassin is apprehended and dragged off, with a new caster begging him for comment.

His name is Master at Arms Lafayette.

Flashback - Rise from the Dead (Lafayette)

As I lye here, the darkness seems endless and permeates my very being. Was it a harbinger of death (banshee) that brought me to this final resting place, or was it something else entirely.

I felt it . . . blood leaving my body . . . in a way which no sword wound could ever compare to. I felt the cold , the darkness entering me, as the black silhouette finished her ritual feasting of life, or rather ritual feasting of death. I felt the my heart begin to palpitate rapidly, faster and faster, and then begin to slow to a rate which I know would be fatal. I was powerless to stop this process, having stuck a fatal bargain which would remove me from the dungeons and execution by the hangman, but would still lead to one unexpected thing altogether; death. Not sure the exchange was really worth it.

I wake in the darkness .. is this what death is ? It’s highly uncomfortable if so. I feel a trickle of soil on my forehead, and take a min to observed the cramped quarters I’m presently in. Yes … a box. I attempt to breathe, but my lungs are unresponsive, and no none of my limbs appear to move. Is this what death finally is. Trapped in box throughout eternity and unable to move or breathe. Stuck with nothing but my thoughts till the world ends.

I hear something else, a wizzing sort of sound, which appears to be emanating from within the same box I’m in. An unlucky bumble be I think to myself … the whizzing becomes louder and over an undeterminable amount of time, I hear a voice. I’m here Layfette and your ‘eternally grateful self’ will get the chance to be grateful for all of eternity. I have not forgotten our bargain, but we must free you from this state of suspension, inwhich you presently exist.

Although I’m not able to move nor see, I’m aware of a presence within the box, and hear both the splintering of wood, and the feeling of dark soil engulfing me. I’m aware of a pulling sensation, physically forcing me though the vegetation. I feel worms, aphids and other insects within the soil crawling in all my orifices and the continued feeling of being pulled in an upward motion. Suddenly the blackness dissipates, and I’m able to see a moonlight evening and feel hard wind upon my skin. I’m still not able to move, nor breathe, but do feel a myself being lifted by a pair of hands and laid upon a nearby stone bench. Don’t move Lafayette, laugh’s the Dark Silhouetted woman and Lafayette hears chanting emanating from the woman. While on my back, the dark woman leans over and blows something into my mouth with an indescribable force.

At the moment, I feel power returning to my limbs, air entering my lungs and my heart begins to beat. You are free Lafayette from your “ “ “ incarceration” ” “ and now I must encourage haste, before someone discovers us. Haste I say … to where …? You must leave water-deep Lafayette and travel to the silver marshes, where I will provide you sanctuary, until you have fully recovered. Thereafter, we can consult on our pact and best way to ensure that both parties are happy with the arrangement.

Flashback - A Gnoll party invades Waterdeep (Kempo)

Waterdeep
(Some 20 years prior to the Gnoll siege)

Kempo was startled from his evening devotions by a knock at the door to his quarters. Rising from his knees, he opened the door to find Healer Androzanius in his armour. "Come quick!", said the healer, "Vicar Anderson needs every one of us. The gnolls are making a foray into Waterdeep sewers again". "I advised the Vicar we needed to block that route, Androzanius", replied Kempo, hastily dressing into his mail shirt. Picking up his shield and mace, Kempo followed the wizened old healer out of his quarters and down the stone corridor towards Anderson's offices. The young cleric had been in the service of Kord for just one year, and he ran with the enthusiasm of youth towards the fight. When they reached the offices of the vicar, breathless, he was already waiting for them. "You two took long enough", said Anderson, who turned and led them down a flight of stone steps towards the sewers. "The other novitiates are already assembled and waiting for us".

It took abour ten minutes to navigate the sewer system and find the assembled Clerics. Kempo nodded to his peers, who looked relieved at his arrival. He had already, in such a short space of time, demonstrated both his prowess with his weaponry, and his cool head on a battlefield. The gnolls had been making forays into Waterdeep for some months, most likely, Kempo had informed Anderson, to search for weaknesses prior to a protracted siege. Anderson usually dismissed the young novitiates worries, stating they were probably just scavenging for food. "There's nothing between the ears of a gnoll, Kempo. Take a look next time you smash open the skull of one", he would say. But the forays had started increasing in frequency, and even Anderson had started to consider the possibility that Kempo was right.

Anderson raised his arm, and a hush descended upon the excited clerics, huddled together in a narrow stone sewer passageway deep within the underworld of Waterdeep. In the sudden quiet, the sound of footsteps came through the darkness. Kempo narrowed his eyes and squinted, trying to see what was coming up the passageway to meet them, but saw only shadows cast by flickering torches. Voices were talking in a language he did not understand, but recognised as the tongue of gnolls. Kempo frowned. He leaned in and whispered to Anderson, "They are making a lot of noise for someone who is trying to sneak into Waterdeep". Anderson nodded his agreement, and turned back to face the oncoming gnoll party. While the gathered clerics all prayed silently for Kord to grant them success, Kempo was making plans for the battle. Unusually for a cleric, Kempo was not a very religious man. His devotions were performed perfunctorily and without ceremony or passion, and on more than one occasion he had neglected them, only to find Kord silent later in the day when help was needed. It would be a short fight. The gnolls always came underprepared for these forays, and Kempo smiled without mirth as he contemplated the average intellect of your average gnoll.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a cry that went up in the gnoll party, as they spotted the clerics and made their charge towards them. Kempo counted about fifteen of the filthy creatures, against twenty of his peers, and surmised the fight would be over even before it had begun. Anderson raised his arm to signal readiness for the charge, when all of a sudden an unearthly howl rang out in the sewers, deafening the clerics that stood, weapons raised, ready to meet the gnolls. The gnoll raiding party also faltered in their charge, and started to cast nervous (to Kempo, did they look frightened?) looks behind them. Out of the gloom a dark robed figure stalked up the sloping tunnel toward the gnoll party, and in the figures wake was something that belonged to Kempo's worst nightmares. A huge, seething black mass of muscle and sinew was making it's way now past the robed figure and stalking towards the gnolls. It's eyes were smoldering red fire, and it had two wicked looking horns either side of its temples. Criss crossing the demons enormous chest were wicked looking chains, and in it's right hand it carried an axe decorated with human skulls. It's lips were drawn back into a snarl, revealing rows of razor sharp teeth, and once again it let out that inhuman roar as it reach the now terrified gnoll party.

The cleric party also began to falter. "HOLD THE LINE!" shouted Anderson, despite his own terror at the demonic form that was coming toward them. Many of the novitiates were now open mouthed with terror, and those that were not rooted to the spot were frantically praying for Kord to deliver them. Kempo found that he was strangely not terrified of the demonic monstrosity, and watched with a certain amount of fascination as it began to tear apart the gnoll raiding party one by one. Terrified gnolls began to scatter, but in the cramped conditions of the sewer tunnel they had nowhere to go. The sound of crunching bone and tearing flesh, as the demon ate its way through the raiders, brought up the evening meal in one or two of the clerics, who by this time had also started to back away from the monstrosity. Vicar Anderson watched the carnage with frightened eyes, then turned, pushed his way through the novitiates and set off at a pace back up the tunnel towards the entrance grate. The clerical party took it's lead from the vicar, and turned and fled with him. Only Kempo remained in the tunnel, and when the demon had finished slaughtering the gnoll raiders, it turned it's attention to Kempo. For his part, Kempo did not move as the demon bore down on him, watching with a kind of stunned fascination at the creature that now threatened to take his life. Then, with a suddenness that took Kempo completely by surprise, the demonic form withered and then vanished, an anguished cry on its lips as the robed figure sent it back to the underworld.

The robed man approached Kempo, and removed his hood. He had a neatly trimmed beard, a bald head, and wore the vestments more usually associated with a clerical order than a necromancer. Looking Kempo directly in the eye from three feet away, the figure smiled and said, "Novice Kempo. I have been looking for you for a very long time...."

Flashback - Discoveries in the Dark (Garf)

The room was not luxurious by any amount of imagination but it was dry and warm which was all that Brother Garf really required. Unable to sleep he lay on the simple bed the monastery provided. That and a small wooden chair and desk were all the furniture that were allowed in his cell. The book of Kord lay resting on the desk where he had left it earlier in the evening but even that could not distract him from his current train of thought. He had spent the last 2 days purely on bread and water. Not by his own choice of course, brother Garf had few vices but the simple life of a monk was not an easy one and the fact that he was allowed to eat and drink good food were the only conciliation for the other luxuries he was denied by the rules of his order.

The injustice of it still bothered Garf, after all he had been correct. His tutor at the monastery Brother Octavius was an old cleric, fat in the belly and the intellect he had been blessed with earlier in life had been stolen from him by the onset of his twilight years. The small class of trainee Clerics had been discussing a matter of a passage in the book of Kord. Brother Octavius had been explaining to the group his interpretation of the passage but had clearly become confused. Garf had corrected him as gently as possible but the old monk had taken it as a personal insult and sent Garf to reflect on his thoughts in his cell for two days. As he lay on his bed his stomach ached and the thought of another day without a good meal lingered in the front of his mind stopping him from sleeping. His thoughts soon turned to the food that he could be eating now. The monastery, although only possessing simple cooking equipment, had the most wonderful selection of food and wine readily available to him under normal circumstances. It was then that the plan hatched in his mind, if he could sneak his way to the Kitchen then only Kord would ever know he had disobeyed brother Octavious's order and he was a warrior God who would smile upon anyone brave enough to mount such a daring raid.

Before he knew it he was on his feet making his way to the door. As he slowly opened the door the iron hinges gently creaked but in the silence of the night the noise was almost deafening to Garf. He moved out of his door and down the corridor, the snores of his fellow Clerics resonating down the narrow stone hallway. As he reached the end of the corridor he gently opened the wooden door that led to the cloister. He lingered in the doorway allowing his vision to adjust to the darkness until he was certain it was deserted. Then, as silently as he could, he made his way across the courtyard to the kitchens. As he walked through the archway into the kitchen the smell of rich food and wine bombarded his senses and he jumped as he noticed Brother Octavius sat at a table in the middle of the room. As his mind raced for a plausible excuse he noticed the monk had not reacted to his presence and as he gently moved closer he saw the old man had fallen asleep halfway through a meal he had clearly helped himself to earlier in the evening. A bottle of wine also rested on the table and Garf quickly realised this was the perfect opportunity. There was no way that the old monk would remember how much he had eaten or drank before he had fallen asleep so Garf helped himself to the remainder of the meal in full knowledge the food would never be missed.

Once his belly was full Garf started back toward his cell with the confidence that Kord was clearly on his side tonight. As he strode confidently into the cloister he froze in his tracks. Six silhouettes moved through the darkness at the other end of the courtyard and through a small wooden door. Garf knew this door well it was the subject of a great deal of rumour. The stories of what laid beyond the door were wild and varied but what was for sure was that Bishop Kempo had ruled the area strictly out of bounds. It was unusual for such an area to be declared within a monastery but as it was Bishop Kempo, the hero of the siege of Waterdeep, who had made the ruling it was beyond question. All that anyone knew was that the work being conducted beyond those doors was being kept secret and was vital to protection of the city. Garf thanked Kord he had not been caught and made his way back toward his cell but as he reached the wooden door he noticed a thin shaft of light emanating from the door across the courtyard. He stood uncertain of what to make of it until his curiosity finally got the better of him and he sneaked across to the partially open door. As he looked into the crack he could see a staircase leading downward lit by torchlight. He sat there a moment his mind racing at what could be at the end of the staircase when suddenly he heard a strange noise. As he strained to listen he could just make out the sound of chanting. Why not, he thought, he could just take a quick peek after all fortune was smiling on him tonight. Cautiously he opened the door and made his way down the staircase.

The staircase wound its way downwards, the noise of chanting growing with every step. The corridor finally opened up into a large cavern. Garf found himself looking down into the room. It was clear that if he continued on the path he would clearly be seen by the occupants of the room below. He couldn't quite see what was happening due to a large pillar that was one of a number supporting the substantial ceiling of the cavern. Garf pulled himself to the other side of the column onto a narrow decorative ledge that gave him clear view of the room below. Five monks stood equally spaced around the outside of the room with the final person stood in the middle. The outside of the room was decorated in symbols that he did not recognise but he knew that they were clearly not symbols of Kord. The person in the middle of the room was preparing something and seemed to be leading the proceedings. He was stood in front of a large circular symbol and as he spoke a thick black smoke began to emanate from it. It was as dark as night and moved in an unnatural way, unlike smoke it moved more like a creature writhing back and forth moving upwards. It was far from clear what was going on here but Garf was sure the Bishop should know of it. Garf was about to move back out to the staircase when he saw a shape starting to form in the smoke and he strained to make it out. Without thinking he edged forward knocking a small stone gargoyle from the ledge he was standing on. The figure fell through the air and crashed onto the floor 20 feet below. The monks spun around and with the break in their concentration the black smoke violently retreated back into the symbol on the floor. It was then that Garf saw something that shocked him to the core, the face of the central figure was Bishop Kempo and his cold eyes stared directly up to where he was hiding. Garf bolted instinctively running back up the stairwell, across the courtyard and back into his cell. He lay in bed his eyes closed hoping anyone who came searching would believe he was asleep. He was unsure how good a look Bishop Kempo had got at him and he prayed to Kord that it wasn't enough to recognise him.

Garf did not sleep that night. He waited until all of his fellow clerics were awake and then tried to move with the crowd toward the great hall for breakfast. The meal was uneventful and Garf started to allow himself to believe he had gotten away with the previous nights events. He started to make his way out of the great hall when a chubby arm blocked his path. "I don't know why" rasped Brother Octavius "but Bishop Kempo has requested you join him in his office this morning". Garf felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, well if I have to face punishment then at least I shall know my fate he thought.

Although he knew the way to Bishop Kempos offices he had never been required to enter them before. He nervously poked his head around the door into the lavishly decorated room. Unlike the other rooms in the monastery this one was clearly more used to entertaining the ruling class of the city than the usual simple living of a man of the church. Bishop Kempo was sat on a Sofa with a pot of Tea in front of him. "Ah brother Garf, please come, sit down, can I offer you some tea?". Garf stood speechless for a few seconds "Ah... yes thankyou" he sat down next to the Bishop. "I wanted to speak to you about the events of last night. I'm sure you know of the rules regarding restricted areas in the monastery". "I do" replied Garf "and I cannot apologise enough for my error of .. " "well never mind that" replied the bishop what is done is done. What is important now is that we keep the details of that evening secret". "I'm sure you understand that as a Bishop of this city it is often my burden to undertake secret work in order to protect it". "There are people who would seek to use your new found knowledge against us". "Well I didn't really...." The bishop raised his hand which Garf clearly took as a signal to stop talking. "Now tell me Garf have you spoke of this to anyone else". "No" Garf replied. The Bishop eased in his seat "then the damage is minimal". The Bishop sat for a while looking at Garf "It occurs to me that I have a job suitable for an adventurous Cleric such as yourself. The church of Weddenvale is in need of some guidance and I think you would be ideally suited. Garf was shocked "Well that would be a great honour for a Cleric as young as myself ..... I would of course accept". "Well that settles it you should make arrangements to leave as soon as possible, my staff will assist you". The bishop lifted his arm toward the door and Garf took the hint and stood up. "Oh Garf..... obviously you must not talk to anyone of our discussion today". Garf nodded and quickly made his way out of the room.

Kempo watched the young Cleric walk out of the door and closed it behind him. As he did the forced smile dropped instantly from his face and was replaced with a cold deliberate look. He made his way to his desk and took out a new piece of parchment and penned a letter

Brother Jintell
Church of St Arthur
Weddenvale
Alesia

Brother,

I am once again in need of your unique skills. A young Cleric at the monastery has become privy to our activities. Under the circumstances sending him to you would seem the safest option.

Brother Garf will arrive within the week. I trust you will provide him with a suitable welcome.

Kempo

Flashback - Extra! Extra! Read all about it! (Lafayette)

... news brief ... The waterdeep Gazette.

Time: 4 months later
Location: Main waterdeep city

/paper seller (scroll): Extra extra: read all about it. A desecration has occurred in Mount helibron Cemetary.

/Vicar anderson: tis bad times when the only news that can reproted is a last person's resting place.

/paper seller: Agree there wit-ya vicar. But i don't think people will be all that troubled by the news. I've only sold 10 scrolls all day long.

/vicar anderson: Why's that ?

/paper seller: It was that their criminal Lafayette, and we know how he was viewed in the end by the cities inhabitants. Who would by his story ... The paper seller spat. A dead criminals last resting place descrated. Some folk would think his corpse probably deserves it. /the seller laughes. I wonder where it is anyhow. The alchemists betting shop is actually taking wagers on which part of the city it will end up in ..

/vicar anderson ... what do you mean disappered. ?

/paper seller ... thats right ... The whole dame body mising. Captian Bight has done the investigation --> /points at the quote on the scroll
" " " i'm sure this was either a practical joke or the work of magic, as it appears that after investigating that the coffin was opened from the inside. We know thats impossible because after 4-months without oxygen, no person much less a dragon would be alive. No spell could last that long, and no signs of and wars or circle magic was found " " " .

Flashback - Bishop Kempo receives mixed news

... From the office of Bishop Kempo ...

My lord, have you heard the news, Layafette was found dead in his cell.

The bishop Kempo raised any eyebrow that suggested suprise and distain. Are you sure of your facts vicar anderson?

I am my mylord. He was pronounced dead by the healer androzanius, and burried in mount heliborn cermetary near the main port.

Has Piergeiron the Paladinson been informed of this development?

Yes mylord.

Bishop kempo squeezed his hands in anger. So he escapes the opportunity to have Kord cleanse his soul in the afterlife. /sigh

Very well. Thankyou Vicar Anderson for this information.

/Bishop Kempo smiles evily, thats one problem that won't have to be managed now.

Flashback - Death and Rebirth (Lafayette)

Inside a rat infested dungeon Lafayette attempted to ponder what had happened, and although escape had been on his mind, felt it was pretty futile given the amount of thickness the walls were made of, and the regular gaurds which patrolled his cells.

At around 01:00 hours, Lafayette, became aware of a mist, which permeated his cell and began to approch him. Although alarmed, Lafayette thought to himself, so their planning to execute me whih some alchemists poisiness gas, well very well, their is not much i can relly do.

To Lafayette's suprise, a quiet voice whispered something to him.

" " I am aware of your situation Lafayette and know of your innocence " ".

To Lafayette's amazement, materialising in one corner of the cell, was the silouette of a dark-skinned woman.
and seek to make a pact with you. I could help you to escape your situation Lafayette

/Lafayette: whatever you are, I would give anything to be out of this situation, and if you can influence the judge in this matter, i would be eternally grateful.

/dark-skinned woman: Thats an interesting way of putting things Layayette 'Eternally grateful'. I have no inflence on any judge sadly, but i do offer you the chance for freedom, in a round about sort of way.

/Lafayette: I'll gratefully take it in any way, just get me out of here.

/dark-skinned woman: You would do to know, that this pact is forever binding, and will require you to feed me regularly. This will also receive a montly wage of 100 gp, to help you manage your life's finances.

/Lafayette gulped: feed you ... what are you. That it became very apparent in his mind ... Sighing ... You have my word of honour. Now how do i get out of here?

/dark-skinned woman: The only way possibly ... through death, well of a sort. The creature fed and disappeared very rapidly.

The next morning, to the befuddlement of the gaurds, Layafette was pronounced dead and buried.

Flashback - The Trial of the Ranger (Lafayette)

The last 18- months of incarceration had taken their toll on Lafayette, and now he was acutely aware that he had used up the last of his appeals.

Attacking and seriously injuring a high level religious practioner during a time of war is a most heinous crime, and one which you will NOT be given the opportunity to repeat Lafayette ...

... Sir i must protest, 'Kempo' is not what he seems, and is using his influence to make you perceive something, which is false.

... you dare insult the integrity of a man of the church in my court-room ... You have had 18 months of time to reconsider your case and ask for forgiveness of your crimes. Instead, you make a gambit that Bishop 'Kempo' is not what he seems, and you expect me to accept that as genuine. where is your evidence Lafayette.

Bishop Kempo is clever, and will no doubt have removed it your honour. I seen a dark metal symbol of unknown origins in his posession, as was a summoning circle painted on the floor of his church.

The bishop has already given evidence that it was a 'healing' circle Lafayette, somthing which was supposed to be used to help wounded citizens.

I tire of you accusitions Lafayette, as do i your un-repetant manner. You will be executed in 7-days time Layafette. May Kord cleanse your soul.

Flashback - The Siege of Waterdeep (Lafayette)

My lord , the Gnolls are making an advance on the west and north walls of the city.

Master Lafayette ... take your troops to the west side of the city and give the clerics some protection, to enable them to keep the cities enhabitants healed. Ensure that the hosptial the clerics have set up is well protected and equipped.

My lord, it shall be done.

/Lafayette leads a battalion of troops from the war-room of waterdeep, to the west-side of the city.

/Someone shouts ... the North Wall has been breached ... The Gnolls have entered the city .

/The sound of the battle being brought forth into the city is evident with the screams of people dying, and the sounds of metal clattering.

Seargeant darkwind ... yes master Lafayette. Take 1/2 of the batallion and secure that 'god damm' north wall. I'll take teh rest to the west-side and protect the clerics and their damm hosptial.

Lafayette and his batallion make their way to the west side of the city, passing numerous injured civilians, damaged structures from different siege weapontry and fire's running out of control.

Eventually the 1/2 of batallion make it to the main city church where, their greeted by the Bisphop kempo.

Master Lafayette at your service. He /bows. I have orders to protect the hosptial, and ensure the safety of your clerics.

... Lafayette suddently becomes aware that no hospital has been set up ...

A brief history of Alesia

A brief History of Alesia
From the archives at Waterdeep Monastery Library

(With thanks to Patriarch Edinson)

Many have tried, your Excellency, to write down an exact history of Alesia, and how mankind came to make his home in that frozen continent. It is, by all reports, a cold and forbidding continent where only the foolhardy would venture. In times past, it was known only for it's wildlife; beasts that eked out a living amongst the frozen tundra and snow laden mountains. Sailors would avoid heaving to on it's coastline, even to resupply their water barrels, for fear of the denizens that lurked on that continent.

That is, until mithril was discovered by certain hardy explorers in the northeast mountains.

Mithril, often more so than gold, has a strange effect on a mans wits, in that they appear to desert him completely. Upon the discovery, shiploads of prospectors (and their assorted bodyguards) made their way to Alesia to earn their fortune. After the establishment of some shanty border towns, the mithril began to flow from the depths of the mountains, and a rudimentary dock was constructed to cater for the ships that came and went with the precious cargo. It should be pointed out, your Excellency, that at this time (some three hundred summers past) there was a high degree of lawlessness amongst the prospectors, and they lived according to their own greeds and desires. As more intrepid miners arrived, news of the mithril mines spread, and very quickly traffic from our continent to Alesia stepped up tenfold, as did the number of bar fights, robberies, and occasional murders.

It was into this maelstrom of greed and lawlessness that Sir Arthur came, under orders from Vanion, Preceptor of the Pandion order of which Sir Arthur was a knight. The Preceptor saw the benefit of a lawfully controlled mithril flow, the taxes that would come with it, and the opportunity for the Pandion Order to benefit from the trade. At first Arthur and his knights were reviled when they tried to impose order on the prospector community. This revulsion quickly turned to mute acceptance after the knights casually began to lop off certain people's heads. Some number of prospectors still persisted in their protestation against the Pandion Order and its newly imposed rules, but they were either imprisoned or given object lessons in which end of a lance is the sharpest, and order was quickly restored to the border towns.

Arthur first saw to it that a new settlement, larger in size than the shanty towns, was built some two days journey up from the docks. This was to become what we now know as Weddenvale, although the histories are unclear, your Excellency, regarding whether Arthur himself labelled the town such or not. Weddenvale became the hub of the mithril trade, as prospectors and miners were now under law to pass through and pay their levy to the Pandion Knights before taking their precious wares to the docks, and selling there to the merchants.

As you know, Excellency, the Pandion Order is deeply rooted in it's religious beliefs, and in it's devotion to their god, Kord. A church was soon established at Weddenvale, with the flock overseen by Preceptor Vanion's own son, Khallan Vanion, a rather religious man of long temper and kind heart (to remind your Excellency, Bishop Khallan was of no use to the military wing of the Pandion Order after an accident that cost him the use of one of his arms - but that is in the Pandion Histories for all to read). Very shortly thereafter, the flock flourished under Bishop Khallan, and religion became part of the Alesian culture as much as the mithril trade. At this point, some ten years had passed since the prospectors had first come to Alesia, and children were starting to be born. The town of Weddenvale gave families shelter and protection from the wild, and thus families began to flourish. Arthur had achieved what he set out to achieve, the imposition of law and order in Alesia had resulted in a stable, well to do community, reliant upon the steady flow of mithril from the mines.

In the next part, your Excellency, I will try to explain the root causes behind the Weddenvale township Rebellion, an event that threatened all that Arthur had helped to build, some ten years after the establishment of the Church of Weddenvale.

[GAME] Attack in the woods

Garf lay very still on the makeshift bed Lafayette had created for his injured companion. Brad was slumped and breathing heavily, leaning against a tree. The fight had been short but intense, and Garf had definitely come off worse in the group. "Stoke up the fire Brad, we need to keep him warm", said Lafayette as the snow continued to drift down from enormous clouds. Brad wearily got up and did as he was told, as Lafayette tended to Garf's injuries as best he could. His methods were rather rudimentary, involving cauterising the wounds with a rather hot implement (luckily for Garf, he was unconscious at the time). Given a little time, Garf began to come round groaning and complaining about the pain in his head.

After a decent nights sleep, the small group were once again ready to continue their journey. Garf's devotions to Kord had been very successful, and the Cleric was in a most chipper mood as the party set off along the well worn, but snow covered road. Before long, there came the sound of drunken singing coming from up ahead. Lafayette mildly suggested that Garf go forward to meet the singing stranger, so the man of the cloth nudged his horse forward to find out who was creating all the noise. At the side of the road sat a shabbily dressed old man, white hair and beard matted with the dirt of weeks without bathing. The old man introduced himsef as Garath, a storyteller of some repute, and offered a tale in exchange for an ale. Garf readily agreed, despite Lafayette's mild suspicion, and the four travelled until sundown later that afternoon.

As they sat around the fire, Garath regaled them with his tale. It seemed there was once a very powerful sorceror in these parts, but he had sadly fallen on hard times. His most prized possessions, an orb and a spell book, had been stolen from him some time past by persons unknown. The sorceror dreamed of one day receiving his powers back if only some adventurers were brave (or foolhardy) enough to get them back for the old man. Garf and Lafayette listened intently, and speculated as to whether there was a grain of truth in this sad tale, but the old storyteller was non-commital, presently falling off the log on which he was sat, and fortunately landing on his bedroll.

The talk lasted late into the night, but the party eventually succumbed to sleep. When they awoke the next morning the old man was gone, leaving very obvious tracks back further into the forest. Lafayette's suspicions were immediately aroused, and he began to track the old storyteller into the trees. Garf was busily watching him go, when very suddenly he received a blow to the back of his (already injured) head! With a flash, three figures leapt upon the unsuspecting Garf, Brad, and Lafayettes dog. A brutal fight ensued - the cleric focussed all his energy on the tip of his mace and breathed a spell of light into it - the whole area was illuminated with divine light as Garf swang the glowing mace at the bodies of their attackers. Brad quickly hefted his waraxe and leapt into the fray.

Some ways back in the woods, Lafayette abandoned looking for the disappeared old man when he heard the commotion back at the camp. He raced through the trees, his footfalls almost silent in the padding of snow that still lay thickly on the forest floor. Raising his arm, he hurled one of his tomohawks into the fray, narrowly missing the surprised Garf, then grabbed one of the attackers around the throat, wrestling him to the floor. The encounter was short, but bloody. It was quickly determined by the adventurerers that their assailants were of the same order of monks that attacked them all the way back at the tomb of Sir Arthur in Weddenvale. Two of the attackers were quickly dispatched, but a third was able to survive. Whilst trying to make an escape, Garf man handled him to the ground and Lafayette was able to get bindings around his neck. The monk said nothing, merely made a gesture towards his pocket. Quick as a flash, a vial of dark green liquid was in his hand, and with a quick movement the monk had taken the liquid.

Garf tried his best to save the life of the monk, but it was to no avail. The poison had an immediate effect. It was at this point that the old man, Garath, reappeared from the woods. "In the name of Kord, where have you been!", cursed Lafayette. Garath stared open mouthed at the carnage in the camp, and almost dropped the bundle of firewood he was carrying. Lafayette cursed again and set about removing the head of one of the dead monks. Garf was almost apoplectic at this mistreatment of the dead, and a compromise was reached. One head on a pole, the other two with a decent burial.

The party gathered their things together, and with Garath in tow set off again towards the palace of Lord Blenheim. The mood was as glum as the snow laden clouds that threatened again overhead, as Lafayette muttered half to himself, "Somebody knows we are coming".

[GAME] The Long Journey Begins

Mid-morning, and the snow once again fell softly around them as the two adventurers made their way back to Weddenvale for their supplies. The five day hike ahead of them to Lord Blenheims' palace had caught them under-prepared, and they needed to stock up. Garf made his way to the blacksmith, but found little to help out there, finding instead that the leatherworker had a good supply of tents and bags for the journey. Lafayette tried unsuccessfully to hire a known felon from the prison, the guards naturally not wishing to release criminals back into the general populace. The guard pointed him to the Merchant Adventurers Hall, where Lafayette found two people lounging outside looking for work. Lafayette walked straight up to the larger of the two and punched him squarely on the nose. In a flash, the man had pulled his sword and levelled it directly at Lafayette's throat. "You're hired", was all the ranger said. Brad, for 'twas his name, looked blankly for a moment, then laughed uproariously and clapped Lafayette firmly on the shoulder. "I like your style!", was all he said, and the companions had added a third to their number. Lafayette unceremoniously then punched the other man in the face, who fell in a crumpled heap to the floor. Unsurprisingly, that fellow received no job that day.

Garf, Lafayette and Brad then convened at Bartholemews house and checked in with the old Dwarf that the armour of Arthur was still stowed away safely in his basement. Bartholemew confirmed that it was, and offered the adventurers lunch before they set off. All readily agreed and ate their fill, then with the Dwarf waving at the door, they began their five day trek.

As they passed out of town, they couldn't help feeling a certain atmosphere to Weddenvale that had not been there before. Neither of them chose to question a local about it though, so they passed unawares out into the surrounding countryside. As the afternoon wore on, the snow began to fall thicker covering their tracks on the road nicely, although all three companions shifted uneasily in their seats as the sound of wolves in the countryside nearby continued to reach their ears periodically. Presently, conversation turned to religious matters and Garf was stunned to discover that they had in common a mutual friend in Abbot Kempo of Waterdeep. It turned out that Lafayette had fought at the Abbott's side in the Siege of Waterdeep and Garf had enjoyed some tutelage at the monastery from the aging cleric. A common friend strengthened the blossoming friendship between the two unlikely companions, and as the afternoon wore on they discovered that they had more in common than at first thought. Brad travelled several metres back covering the rear of the party, and despite his insistences as the afternoon wore on and the sun started to set, no camp was set for the night until well after darkfall.

Despite the freezing cold and the pitch darkness, the camp was set for the night and the fire soon roaring with their evening meal cooking. After some quiet dinner conversation, Brad offered to take the first watch, and settled down some yards from the camp (within the confines of Lafayette's hastily erected defenses) to take his turn. After four uneventful hours, and with the fire now well and truly dying, he awoke Lafayette to take his watch. Lafayette refused to get up, and instead told Brad to go kick the cleric, a duty to which he duly obliged. As Garf took his watch, his keen senses heard a rustling on the outskirts of the camp. Coming alert and hefting his mace, he quietly woke the others again, and all three took up arms against the night. Within moments, a bell rang on the camp perimeter and all three spun to see two cold blue eyes staring back at them through the darkness. The fire lay dying as the creature made its attack, leaping at Lafayette! The ranger grappled the creature, and started a vicious fight with it. Garf swung his crossbow around and quickly loaded a bolt - his aim was wild and he narrowly avoided striking his companion Without warning, something large suddenly struck Garf in the back, sending him crashing to the ground, and within an instant the animal was almost upon him. Desperate, Garf cried out to Kord, and his deity duly obliged as a deafening burst stunned the creatures attacking them. As their eyes became accustomed it was obvious they were under attack from two winter wolves. "If only we'd kept the fire going!", muttered Garf as the two wolves tried to shake the deafening burst from their heads.

Suddenly, one of the wolves opened his mouth wide and breathed cold all over Garf, who knew a magical touch when he felt it. Freezing and stunned, he was helpless when the wolf sunk it's giant fangs into him. The creature could not get a good purchase through Garf's armour and was presently wrestled from his prey by Brad who was enraged and hacking and slashing with his battleaxe as hard as he could in the direction of the deadly creature. Lafayette finished off the wolf he was wrestling and threw his tomahawk at the wolf, burying the hatchet in the animals shoulder. Dazed, and moving poorly the wolf leapt at Lafayette, leaving Garf (now unconscious) to his fate. Between them, Brad and Lafayette subdued and killed the second creature, then breathing heavily set about patching up Garf's wounds. Though unconscious, Garf was saved from an almost certain death by the moderate healing skill administered by Lafayette.

All three companions, plus Lafayette's dog, laid back on the ground breathing heavily, and looked up at the dark snow laden skies. They had been lucky to escape, even considering Garf's injuries. A little voice somewhere in the back of Lafayette's mind suggested he make a mental note to ensure the fire is kept stoked at all times during the night in future...

[GAME] A narrow escape, and an angry dwarf

The sound of steel on bone still ringing in their ears, the two adventurers considered their next move. Though the skittering, cracking noises from across the blackened courtyard were no longer audible, tension hung in the air like a millstone. Both men breathed heavily as they tried to silently pick there way through years of decay and rubble back out the way they had entered the castle. More than once Garf looked back over his shoulder thinking he heard something, but Lafayette just looked resolutely forward trying to pick out the half broken wall over which they had climbed, and which would now become their means of escape.

After several minutes of searching, they located their route and clambered over into the adjoining gardens as quietly as they could. The gloom seemed to lift somewhat as they made their way through the foliage back towards the town. On occasion, Lafayette considered heading back up the sewer they had come out of with Leah the previous night, but thought twice. They were in no state to be caught unawares by the evil Cleric's nefarious minions twice in one night. On the way they summarised all they had learned since arriving in Weddenvale, taking stock of the situation. The, now obviously evil, Cleric that had usurped Garf's job. Lafayette's plan to retrieve the armour of Arhtur, First Lord of Weddenvale, that he now carried on his back. The mysterious and sudden disappearance of Leah, their newest travelling companion. Lafayette thought back mournfully to his old hound, Rover, that had been killed by the town guards back at the docks on his first night in Alesia.

The lights of Weddenvale drew them home. Lafayette snorted. Home, right. He had had nowhere to call his own home for so many years he could not remember. With a sidelong glance he appraised his unlikely travelling partner, as the cleric Garf hefted the weight of his mace from one shoulder to the other. Not a bad man to have around in a fight, thought Lafayette quietly to himself - despite an inauspicious beginning on the beach. Before long they arrived at the gates of Weddenvale, but were met with resistance when trying to enter. "We don't lets no-one in this time o'night, now be on yer way!", came the gaurds reply to Garf's request to enter. Curiously, after a couple of flicks of his fingers, the guard was in the next moment opening the door and letting them in. Hmm, thought Lafayette, definitely not a bad guy to keep around.

They two hunted for somewhere to sleep the night for some time, but all boarding houses and taverns had been closed up against the biting cold for the night. Suddenly Garf had a wave in his brain. "Bartholemew!", he uttered. Lafayette looked at him quizically, offering him a chance to explain. "He's a dwarf that lives nearby. Put me up the other night, decent sort. My nostrils are icing over here, we need to get out of this cold". Lafayette hesitated, not wishing to entrust himself into the house of some dwarf he didn't know. Eventually he was persuaded and the two of them trudged off to Bartholemews house through the ever growing snowstorm around them

They knocked several times, but still there was no answer. Eventually Lafayette lost patience and stoved the door in with his mace. Stepping over the now disintegrated doorframe his face connected squarely with the stout fist of a rather angry dwarf. "Get ye oot a ma hoose ye theif!" shouted Bartholemew as he raised his fist to pummel Lafayette some more. "Bart! Bart! Its me, Garf!", shouted Garf as Bartholemew tonked Lafayette another plumper on the side of the temple. Eventually Bartholemew came to his senses and recognised the young cleric from a few nights back. "Ye could have jist knocked, laddie!" He said as his face spread into a grin. Together they took some food and ale, before Lafayette hit upon the bright idea of hiding Arthur's armour in the basement of Bartholemew's house. The dwarf was reluctant at first, but Lafayette managed to sway him with the promise that they could go beat up Elves together when this was all over. Bartholemew laughed as he took the armour, but then the sound stuck in his throat. He regarded the pieces he was holding suddenly with a look of almost religious significance on his face. "Mithril laddie! This is made of mithril!", both Lafayette and Garf looked stunned at the armour, as realisation dawned on Bartholemew's face as to where the fine armour had come from. After more persuasion by Lafayette, Bartholemew reluctantly stowed the armour away safely.

The next morning Bartholemew bid the two adventurers farewell as they set out in search of horses in town. The purchase was easy, and soon they were on their way towards the house of the missing Patriarch of Weddenvale. They hadn't gone an hours journey when Lafayette suddenly turned to Garf. "I need to buy a dog", he said. Garf just looked at him. "A dog? Don't you think we have more pressing concerns? Like finding this official, stopping the dastardly villain, and finding out what happened at the silver mines?". Lafayette shook his head. "I miss my dog, and need another. I am not taking one more step forward until I have one". Garf sighed, and they adventurers turned to head back to town, in search of canine company.