Except for that paladin. That one’s too good for a name. (And obviously marked for death. Both times he returned from the moathouse with terrible wounds. Many tears have been wasted on the hero too good for a name.)
His confessor, Arpad, must have the easiest job in the world. Father Terjon says that he’s all right. Minds his own business and that never hurt anybody.
There’s one woman in the group. Her name is Godith. Based on her advanced reading skills, it seems likely that she’s had contact with the elves. The young men of Hommelet admire her from a safe distance.
Oh Lem, you sweet buffoon, the animals love you. He tried to start an argument with good ol’ Squire Denton about whether giant marauding demon pigs need their tusks. And he loves those colored frogs he brought back from the swamp.
Angus has also shown a keen in the frogs. Jaroo of the Grove says he all right, just very very inquisitive about certain things. Like the Weaver’s son. But now he’s moved out of the inn to live in an old widow’s barn.
That one guy, Roark, we don’t know about him. Yes, we do, he’s a reekish cur. We don’t want to look at him and we don’t want to let him out of our sight. But Father Terjon says that those frog belts he sold to Melubb, they may be ugly but there’s no evil in them that can’t be fixed by melting them down.
So, one day we were all sitting in the bar when there was the terrible garralumping of a trio of terrible too-tall, too-big demon pigs with tusks that were most hideously twirly and pointy, tentacles growing out of their faces, and flapping wings at the back their heads that-- in their smallness compared to bulk they would need to carry into the air—epitomized vestigial. The Paladin assisted Denton’s sons with the horses while Arpad slipped out the back door to do mind his own business. Godith did something elfish.
The stampeding juggernauts threw a dog into the air, smacked the horses with their tentacles and then passed out of the village, taking their terror to parts unknown. Squire Denton had a little fun with Lem and Roark, but could not goad them into a wild demon chase. Instead, after a brief (and unnecessarily private) conference, this new group, led by The Paladin, manifest their intention to follow the tracks of the horrible beasts and find out not where they were going but where they came from. A most shocking example of wisdom for these people. This wisdom was surpassed by the many other patrons of the Inn who chose instead to continue with their meals.
What follows is based mainly on accounts provided by those who enjoyed the honor of tending to The Paladin as he recovered from the wounds of his battles.
They followed the tracks of the terrible creatures that had stampeded through Hommelet. They followed them through the forest, toward the swamp and along the way they saw places where the creatures had battled with men, and among the evidence of these battles was the smashed body of one of those wild men. He was naked and tattooed and bald-headed and his teeth sharpened. Like the ones that burst into the Bekens’ kitchen and spoiled their dinner.
So this group, The Paladin and his companions, they followed the tracks some more and they came upon a pair of the wild men chasing a group of deer like they must have chased those other creatures.
But Agnus maybe didn’t listen and he got too close to the coins on the road and so the whole lot of wild men, maybe six, maybe eight came crashing out of the forsest screaming like they do and waving their clubs. Lem spends a lot of time talking to the trees and so it’s good to know that he’s made some friends with them. So the trees entangled a good number and pulled them down to ground where they thrashed and screamed while their wicked brethren set upon Angus and upon the Paladin. Arpad is a priest of the old style and he joined his companions in their fight and with the Paladin was grievously wounded. Churlish, reekish Roark turned his reekish chulishness for good this once and we have heard killed several wild men with his arrows.
The Paladin and his companions returned to Hommelet to celebrate their victory, to tend to their wounded (The Paladin’s pale brow!), to sell those ugly belts, and to ask Jaroo about some frogs they found. Beautiful colors of red white and blue, like the one the Bekens found in their kitchen the day after the wild men’s visit. But Angus, unlike the Bekens could not be convinced to give it to Jaroo, and instead bought a basket to carry the frogs with him everywhere he goes. (And then Lem follows him. Poor Lem. Poor Angus.)
After resting, upgrading their armor and in the process completely depleting the stock of Rannos and Gremag, The Company decided to visit the Moathouse itself. The deep tracks left by the enormous creatures were still evident, and the path itself, while overgrown was plain enough. Reaching the moathouse, they encountered the same disgustingly enormous frogs that have troubled other visitors. But bravely led by The Paladin, the Company slew or drove away the foul creatures and planned their entrance into the ruins.
Sensing an evil presence waiting for them in the courtyard, the Company circled or, if you will, button-hooked to the back of the moathouse where they found another breach and collapsed section of wall had resulted into a narrow, but viable entry point. Here, Godith’s dog ran away, and the mule balked at crossing the moat.
Despite these omens, the Company entered the ruins and soon found themselves in the great center hall of the weird people who had built the fortress so long ago. And as they entered, walking corpses emerged from the gloom and attacked the Company. As always The Paladin, encouraged by his dedication to the safety of his comrades, met his foes with unflinching valor, and destroyed them, perhaps single-handedly. (Roark says otherwise, but you know, that’s Roark. And Angus has gone to find a new place for his frogs.) Again the Paladin was most grievously wounded and again his comrades assisted his painful return to Hommelet so that his wounds could receive proper attention.