The Liberation of Pasar

While the imperial engineer Sheng Zhu-Shi began work on the southern fortifications, Bayan, Bangqiu, Sir Crowler, and Prince Slash took their rest in the nearby market town of Pasar.

The rest did not last long.

Bayan soon remembered that Pasar had once been a place known to Beatriss. She had traveled there with Gwinch, a mysterious foreigner and Master of the Path, whom she had known since her days in Zipang.  Bayan suggested they look for him.

Bangqiu was eager for the visit as well. Pasar lay near his childhood home, and he hoped to see how the town had changed since his youth.

They discovered very quickly that it had changed for the worse.

---

The Black Flowers

Pasar had once been famous for its peace.

Travelers entering the town were required to surrender their weapons at the gates — a custom dating back to when Pasar had been nothing more than a fishing village where merchants could rest safely between long journeys.

But prosperity had brought problems.

Merchants had arrived with guards. Rival guilds had fought one another in the streets. Eventually the Elders of Pasar allowed a single company of mercenaries to carry weapons in order to preserve the peace.

They were called the Black Flowers, former imperial soldiers, remnants of the armies of general Kawabi and Governor Goyat.

At first the Black Flowers had done their job.

But in the course of a few years they had become something else entirely.

The Black Flowers now patrolled the market districts wearing what was left of their old imperial armor. Each man bore a large circular badge shaped like a black flower.

They took food from merchants without paying. They bullied travelers. And everyone in Pasar seemed to fear them.

Sir Crowler and Prince Slash saw the injustice with their own eyes when a group of Black Flowers overturned a fruit seller’s cart simply because the old man asked for payment.

Unarmed and unwilling to start a riot in the street, the two young nobles decided to report the abuse to the Elders of Pasar, who still ruled the old village at the center of town.

---

A Familiar Name

Meanwhile Bayan and Bangqiu reached the monastery where they thought they might find Gwinch. They didn't find him, but they found Sid, a young monk who knew him, and was willing to talk about what was happening in Pasar.

The monastery itself had fallen under the control of the Black Flowers. Many of the monks were little more than servants now, forced to obey the mercenaries who had once been allowed to shelter within the monastery walls.

In time, Sid admitted that he knew where they could find Gwinch. He had been exiled from Pasar, by the Elders of Pasar. But now they had secretly invited Gwinch back. They hoped he could help restore the monastery and drive the Black Flowers out of the town.

Sid negotiated an introduction and the travelers, together with Gwinch and the Elders, forged a bold plan.

The Black Flowers were preparing for a secret meeting of their leaders beneath the town — a gathering that would include representatives of several powerful factions.

If those leaders could be captured, the Black Flowers’ power might collapse overnight.

Sid knew the entrance to the tunnels beneath Pasar.

Gwinch would lead the strike.

---

A Diversion

There was one problem.

The tunnels ran directly beneath the monastery, which was heavily guarded.

The strike team would need a diversion.

Sir Crowler and Prince Slash immediately volunteered.

Their plan was simple: cause as much chaos as possible in the monastery courtyard and draw the Black Flowers’ attention away from whatever might be happening underground.

No one doubted their enthusiasm.

---

Into the Tunnels

Before the expedition set out, Gwinch’s advisor Saisho cast a powerful spell that rendered the entire strike force invisible.

Twelve unseen figures slipped through the streets of Pasar, bumping occasionally into startled townsfolk but attracting little attention from the Black Flower patrols.

Sid guided them into an abandoned hotel once favored by the mercenaries. From an upper room they descended a ladder through a broken wall into the tunnels below.

The journey through the underground passages proved long and dangerous.

There were traps everywhere.

A strange metal guardian threatened to fill a chamber with poison gas. Hidden pits opened beneath careless footsteps. A flamethrower trap nearly killed Bayan and Sid before they managed to smother the nozzle with their cloaks.

The party faced demonic hounds, a maze of deadly bolts, and a monstrous bull-headed warrior that fell beneath the axe of the young fighter called Beast.

Bangqiu’s magic and Gwinch’s discipline carried them forward.

---

The Uprising

Above ground, Crowler and Slash had begun their diversion.

Standing before the monastery gates, Prince Slash loudly denounced the Black Flowers and mocked their cowardice. Crowler challenged the watching townspeople to ask themselves why such bullies ruled their town.

The crowd began to stir.

When the Black Flowers dragged Slash inside the courtyard to punish him, Crowler and their ally Jasmine slipped in after him.

Fighting broke out.

---

 

The Slavelords of Pasar

The underground strikeforce found the slavelords’ council chamber, was large and grand, lit by torches and lined with nine thrones.

Five of the thrones were occupied.

Neetla, captain of the Black Flowers, rose immediately to meet them.

Beside him sat his allies: a green-robed sorcerer, a priest of the Shining Path, a traitorous monk of the Two-Fold Path, and a cloaked assassin of the One Law Mosque.

The battle that followed was chaotic and deadly.

Gwinch and Beast charged Neetla while Bangqiu darted behind the mercenary captain and struck him with burning enchanted shuriken.

Saisho appeared suddenly behind the enemy lines and neutralized the sorcerer before he could unleash further devastation.

Bayan fought desperately when the cloaked assassin appeared behind her with a dagger. Though wounded, she drove him off and pursued him through the chamber even as he tried to vanish into invisibility.

The cost of the battle was heavy.

Sid and the jungle hunter Akinfenwa were both killed by a fireball.

But the slavelords were defeated.

Neetla was captured alive.

Word spread throughout the monastery and to the courtyard where Crowler and Slash were fighting.

“Neetla is captured!”

At that moment the gates burst open.

An elephant thundered into the courtyard, followed by a stampede of livestock as townspeople surged forward. The remaining Black Flowers fled in panic.

Pasar had risen against them.

---

The Maps

When the fighting ended, the captured conspirators were swiftly judged by the Elders.

Justice was harsh.

But it was the documents found in the throne chamber that troubled Bayan most.

The slavelords of Pasar were not an isolated gang of mercenaries.

They were part of a larger network.

Their letters and maps revealed strongholds scattered across the region — including one in the mountains near Quitokai.

And another.

A monastery.

In Khanbaliq.

Not so long ago, when Bayan was attached to the imperial harem, she had accompanied Beatriss on a reconnaissance mission, ordered by the Emperor, to an abandoned monastery on the edge of the imperial capital. The Emperor had sent them looking for a woman.

They had never finished that mission, barely started it.

Beatriss had been turned to stone.

Now it seemed that the place they had entered long ago might have been only one part of something larger — a hidden network of monasteries, mercenaries, and slavers operating across the Emperor’s domains.

Bayan said nothing of this to the others.

But the discovery left her uneasy.

Either her Emperor knew very little about what was happening in the shadows of his empire.

Or he knew far more than he had said.

Gwinch and Saisho, had their own history with the monastery in Khanbaliq. It could wait. There next target would be the slavers stockade in Quitokai.

From Happy Valley to Pasar

The Road to Pasar (1279)

Work on Beatriss’s fortress in the Happy Valley had barely begun when a message arrived from the Emperor.

The imperial engineer Sheng Zhu-Shi, who had supervised the laying of the foundations, was summoned away. Kubla Khan had ordered new fortifications in the south of his empire, near the independent trading city of Pasar. Two imperial agents—foreigners known as Sir Crowler and Prince Slash—had been sent to escort Zhu-Shi to his new assignment.

Beatriss’s castle would have to wait.

Bayan and the young wu jen Bangqiu knew there was no arguing with an imperial decree. Instead, they proposed a practical solution: they would accompany Crowler and Slash as additional guards for the journey south. When Zhu-Shi finished the Emperor’s work near Pasar, they hoped to bring him quickly back north to complete the fortress in the Happy Valley.

Bangqiu needed little convincing. His home village lay not far from Pasar, and he had not seen it for many years.

And so the four adventurers set out together.

The Southern Caravan

They joined a large caravan bound for the southern frontier. Imperial soldiers marched alongside merchants, pilgrims, and wandering traders. New travelers joined the company as it moved south, and the road became a small traveling city of tents and wagons.  Among the travelers was a lively young woman named Jasmine, who journeyed with her stern and suspicious older brother. Jasmine quickly developed a fascination with Prince Slash.

Whenever she saw him studying maps or speaking with the caravan’s guide, she would appear at his elbow.

“Whatcha doing?”

Slash, who took his responsibilities as imperial escort very seriously, tried to remain patient. But the more closely he studied the route, the more uneasy he became.

Although the caravan’s guide—an imperial scout named Zhinan—claimed to know the southern roads well, Slash had begun to suspect that they were drifting off course.

The Witch in the Caravan

Sir Crowler had noticed something strange as well.

Zhinan traveled with a sleek Siamese cat that seemed unusually intelligent. The animal followed Crowler everywhere and occasionally batted playfully at his boots. Yet the knight could not shake the feeling that the cat was watching him.

One evening Crowler finally decided to confront the guide. He and Prince Slash went to Zhinan’s tent together.

The cat followed them.

As Crowler angrily accused Zhinan of misleading the caravan, the cat circled his legs, swatting at his boots as though amused by the argument.

Crowler pointed at it suddenly.

“Who,” he demanded, “is that cat really?”

Zhinan hesitated.

Then he confessed the truth.

The cat was no ordinary animal.

It was a witch in disguise.

---

The Night Attack

Crowler and Slash immediately ran to warn their companions.

They arrived at Bayan and Bangqiu’s tent just in time to see the cat slipping inside.

The two men burst through the tent flap.

Inside they saw the cat transforming—stretching and reshaping itself into the figure of a woman. She stood over the sleeping Bangqiu, her hands already rising to weave a spell.

Crowler and Slash shouted for their friends to wake.

Only Bayan stirred.

Bangqiu remained trapped in an unnatural sleep.

The enchantress began chanting. Bayan lunged forward and tackled her, trying to prevent the spell—but she was a moment too late.

The witch vanished.

The tent seemed empty.

Then Sir Crowler noticed the edge of the canvas lifting slightly, as if someone invisible were trying to slip out beneath it.

Without hesitation he drew his sword and struck.

The blade met flesh.

The invisible woman collapsed and died before she could complete whatever magic she had intended for Bangqiu.

---

A Familiar Enemy

At dawn the spell of invisibility faded.

When Bayan and Bangqiu saw the woman’s face, they both recognized her.

She was an enchantress who had once served Red Nar, an enemy they had crossed before.

Zhinan confessed that the witch had deceived him into guiding the caravan along a route that would make her attack easier. Ashamed of his failure, he accepted dismissal as the caravan’s guide.

The journey south continued without him.

---

The Long Road

The road to Pasar proved long and dangerous.

Bandits shadowed the caravan through mountain passes. Riders from a rival khan attempted to harass the imperial soldiers. More than once Crowler and Slash had to draw their blades in defense of the travelers.

Bayan’s sword and Bangqiu’s magic helped drive away every threat.

At last the caravan reached the southern frontier.

There, at the place designated by the Emperor, Sheng Zhu-Shi began his work on the new fortifications.

With their duty fulfilled, the four companions finally allowed themselves a moment of rest.

Nearby stood the bustling market town of Pasar.

It seemed the perfect place to wait while the imperial engineer completed his task.

None of them yet knew that Pasar had troubles of its own—or that their arrival would soon draw them into a conflict far more dangerous than the road behind them.

Garan Fest 3: Evil defeated! A New Champion Exalted!

The third day of the competition was in horseback riding and jumping. Vlad, whose grew up tending apples (along with listening to his grandfather’s prophecies and learning to fashion silver crossbow bolts) had never sat on a horse before. He was eliminated in the first round. (Roquelle and Sir Henry, meanwhile were not inspired to compete at all.)

Rellum, a local tanner noted that Mark seemed to have little interest in either the martial competition or the accompanying revelry and suggested that maybe he was “Some kind of wizard? I’ve known people like you.” Mark tried to put a quick end to the conversation, but the Tanner persisted, advertising his services in “custom covers for valuable books.” Made from dragon hide according to the Tanner. Mark said that he’d think about it and told his friends about the strange man’s offer. Vlad was still nursing a sore shoulder and his injured pride, but Thoric agreed to help find the Tanner’s shop. Asking around they heard that the Tanner was new in town and had taken over the old Tanner’s shop next to the well. Mark and Thoric located the shop, but found it closed. By this time, Vlad was back on his feet and eager to restore his pride. He convinced his friend to visit the festival tents and they cheered him on in a test of strength with a visiting strongman. (Vlad lost.)

Wandering on the outskirts of the festival ground, the party met Oli the village drunk and Februm the village loanshark. Having just received a beating from Februm and his toughs, Oli was grateful for a sack of wine and he told them what he knew about Garanton and the festival. This was very little, but Mark and Vlad were perplexed about one fact he told him—every year, the winner of the competition receives the Mantle of Garan—a black velvet cloak that according to legend once belonged to Garan himself. The same black velvet cloak? How? Oli asked for more wine and passed out.

That evening, they met someone else who also found it strange the same gift should be given away every year. Mikail Vetter, hero of the day’s riding completion was being feted at the tavern—and acting completely miserable. The party followed him out of the tavern and learned the reason for his mood. Both his grandfather and his father had won the mantle—and then gone off to war, never to be seen again. None of the winners were still around today. Only the mantle.

That evening, the party went on patrol with their red moss torches. They talked to some patrolling friars and questioned them about the history of Garan and the festival. The friar extolled Garan’s martial virtues of good words and deeds. Especially deeds. Garan led the uprising against 3 evil brothers who had terrorized the land. As they explained it, the winner of the festival customarily accepted the mantle and then went forth to seek glory and do honorable words and deeds. “Why should a hero spend his days in a sleepy village like this one?” Such heroes would of course be welcomed, but they couldn’t name any who actually had returned during their years at the abbey. But the mantle itself, they agreed, always returned. Taking their leave from the friars, the party went to the top of the hill to check on the arch. The sky was overcast and the arch wasn’t glowing. Reasoning that the shadow demons wouldn’t be a threat, the party called it a night.

The farmers and artisans rise early in Garanton so when Vlad, Thoric, and Mark did awaken, the village was abuzz with disturbing news: a local man had been killed—apparently by a shadow demon—right in the middle of the village. His body was found near the well. But a festival to honor a legendary warrior must go on regardless of portents and tragedy. Vlad went to testing ground to prepare for the archery contest, one he hoped to win. Vlad and Mark decided to visit Rellum the Tanner. The shop was closed, but they knocked loudly, Mark calling out that he wanted to talk about covering his spellbook. Rellum opened the door and ushered them into his little shop to display samples of his work. His skill was impressive and his price reasonable, but his manner strange. Mark did not like the way the Tanner covetously fingered his spellbook. But the distraction gave Thoric a chance to look around the shop. There was one interior door—with a door placed in fronting of it, jamming it closed. When Thoric tried to wriggle the chair free—but ended up cracking it, Rellum the Tanner snapped angrily and jumped across the room to slam the door shut—but not before Thoric caught a glimpse of a small kitchen in which the rest of Rellum’s furniture was stacked on top of a trapdoor. Mark heard a crashing noise from the cellar. Rellum began to scream that he was being robbed. Thoric and Mark agreed they should leave and went to the archery grounds. They told Vlad that they thought that the missing sculptor was being held prisoner in Rellum’s basement. Vlad agreed that he would go with them to check it out after the archery contest was over. But—when the sculptor’s distraught assistant Deidra heard that someone knew where her master was, she begged them to tell her and, after they did tell, went directly to the Tanner’s house to confront him. Vlad and a few other contestants agreed that they would not start the archery contest until the matter was resolved and went with Thoric and Mark to assist Deidre.

Rellum the Tanner refused to allow anyone inside. A friar joined the negotiations and tried to convince the Tanner that the visitors were not brigands. After a brief argument, Rellum cast a spell on his accusers and most of them fell asleep. Those who remained conscious battered down his door. The shop area had been cleared of small, valuable items. Vlad, Thoric, and Mark moved through it into the kitchen, reaching it just in time to see the shutters fly open. Thoric suggested that the Tanner was a magician and had turned invisible—they braced for an attack. When none came, the party began disassembling the pile of furniture and other heavy objects that held the kitchen trapdoor closed. As they worked, a force began battering against the door from below. Each blow from belong knocked the door open a couple inches and shook the pile of furniture. Thoric out the sculptor’s name and were answered by snarls.

Reasoning that there was a shadow demon in the basement, Vlad lit one of his special red moss torches. The others continued to move furniture. The trapdoor was now bouncing open several inches. A black claw flashed out, grabbing for Vlad’s ankle. He knelt and thrust the torch into the shadow demon’s face. The trapdoor slammed down on Vlad’s arm. He let go of the torch and pulled his arm free.

The party heard frantic commotion in the cellar. The shadow demon was no longer battering the trap door, but instead flying around the cellar, screeching and destroying things. Vlad loaded a crossbow bolt. Mark prepared to cast a spell. Thoric and the friar moved the rest of the furnitutre off the trap door. On the count of three, they opened the trapdoor. Thick, pungent smoke came spilling out, followed by the howling shadow demon. Vlad and Mark both hit it with their respective missiles. As the monster emerged, it was struck by the sunlight from the open window and vaporized.

The friar went out to tell Deidre the good news—the sculptor had been found! And the bad news—Rellum the Tanner had turned him into a demon in order to kill local cows and villagers! And the really good news—the demon had been destroyed by the villagers and now the festival could continue!

Vlad and Thoric checked that the basement was empty of any other shadown demons. Then Vlad wen to compete in the archery contest while Thoric and Mark searched the Tanner’s house. In the attic sleep space, they found a book that purported to tell the True and Secret Story of Garan the Ravager. Nothing about good words and deeds. The arch, according to the book, was built by one of Garan’s two brothers in the course of a fierce three-way sibling rivalry that escalated into war. Garan was killed in the battle with his brothers and buried in a secret tomb. Interesting stuff.

Vlad had another bad day, and was eliminated early from a contest that he had expected to win. He rejoined Thoric and Mark and the three debated their next course of action. They discussed visiting Garan’s tomb. Vlad wanted to return to the ravine near Garan’s tomb to recover the weapons he’d left behind so that he could carry his cousin’s body. But Thoric convinced his fellows that they should investigate the arch. Hadn’t Mark and Vlad seen four shadow demons emerge from the arch on a moonlit night? Shouldn’t they investigate it during the daylight hours?

In the daylight, the arch was just an arch, and the three adventurers discussed destroying it, using a hammer to test whether it was vulnerable to normal methods of destruction. It was—but their work was interrupted by a voice warning them of their imminent destruction. 

In the ensuing conversation, the party resolved that the voice wasn’t coming from the arch or from inside the arch, but from behind a bush or in the ruins nearby. And the voice sounded very much like Rellum the Tanner. He told them that instead of destroying the arch, they should learn how to harness its power. While Vlad and Mark peppered him with questions about the nature of this power and exactly how it could be harnessed, Thoric set about looping a rope around the keystone of the arch. Vlad and Mark couldn’t find the Tanner, but they heard him—not only his voice, but the sound of footsteps as he moved from one hiding place to another. They continued to close in on the source of his voice until finally, with a last threat of doom, he seemed to run away. When the sound of his footsteps faded, the three adventurers agreed to destroy the arch. They seized the end of the rope, walked out as far from the arch as they could and pulled with all their might. At first nothing happened, but when they did manage to twist the keystone, the rest of the stones did the work, pushing the keystone out and then tumbling to the ground. There were some surprised shouts from down in the village and a cloud of dust. When the dust settled, the heroes walked back down to Garanton.

That night at the tavern, Mark, Thoric, and Vlad were the heroes, praised for their success in killing the demon and in driving the Tanner out of town. “I always said he wasn’t right.” 

The celebrations were stymied by some disturbing news. The friars had caught someone trying to steal the mantle of Garan. Most people—other than Thoric, Vlad, and Mark—were shocked to hear that the culprit was local favorite Mikail Vetter, descendant of two previous winners! The friars locked Vetter in the cellar of the abbey. Tavern talk turned to Vetter’s strange behavior. Locals and visiting spectators debated whether Vetter’s crime was motivated by his poor performance at the day’s archery contest or whether causation worked in reverse—“I could tell by the way he looked at that target—his mind was on something else. And now we all know what!” Everyone agreed that he was a disappointment to the memory of his father and grandfather.

The night passed without incident, confirming for most people the friar’s theory that the recent threat posed by Rellum the Tanner and his unwilling accomplice the sculptor had been effectively eliminated. But it was a somber morning. Mikail Vetter was tried and convicted of multiple crimes against the village, the abbey and Garan the Mighty. He was sentenced to a sound flogging and exile.

In the afternoon, the completion of the week’s competition culminated in a series of one-on-one combats. Despite his poor showing on recent days, Vlad was still considered a favorite, along with locals Muttal and Ouvrar. Berl an expert archer had earned the right to easy first round contests but wasn’t expect to succeed in hand-to-hand combat against a “real warrior” in the mold of Garan the mighty. The duels were fought with wooden swords and lasted until one of the duelist fell and could not immediately return to his feet. Vlad easily won his first two rounds. Berl the archer also advanced. The other two finalists included Sir Havad and Barre. Sir Havad was the captain of a mercenary company and thus regarded by many as not a proper contender in a completion intended for untested warriors. Barre, one of Februm’s goons was even more disliked. Barre stumbled and was defeated by Berl the archer to the surprise of all and to the dismay of the many punters who had bet against him. Vlad’s success in the earlier rounds was attributed to his quickness, but in his fight against Sir Havad he showed he was also willing and able to sustain some heavy blows and keep on fighting. The crowd cheered to see the heroic stranger defeat the mercenary. Vlad and Berl were permitted an hour’s rest before the final round. The friar’s tended to both men’s wounds and gave them fortified wine for their final battle. Once again Berl surprised many by his ability to defend himself in hand-to-hand combat. But Vlad had more stamina and after sustaining a few solid blows himself, at last forced the archer to yield.

The final duel was followed almost immediately by the victory procession to the Plaza of Garan. The friars led the way with their statue of Garan, draped in its mantle. The procession arrived at the plaza, in front of Garan’s tomb, and the mantle of Garan was presented to Vlad. He was wary at first, but as the joyous crowd draped it over him, he felt encouraged by its presence. It felt strangely familiar, as if it had always belonged to him and he pulled it around his shoulders.

Mark and Thoric, lurking on the outside of the crowd, took a closer look at the tomb. It looked like the plaster seal had been broken, though it was unclear whether the stone door had been opened.   

Garah Fest Part 2 (Vlad and Mihir search for blood moss)

While the rest of the party rested after the battle on the clifftop and helped to calm frightened revelers, Vlad and Mihir talked with one of the friars who told them of a special incense that could be used to drive away. The one ingredient he needed was a special, blood-red moss that sometimes grew in the canyon near the tomb of Garan. Friar Colton told them the way and warned them to be careful—sometimes snakes, wild animals, and more dangerous things could be found in the dark places around the tomb.

The tomb was easy to find. The trail leading there ran through thin woodland and had recently been cleared in preparation for the festival. They passed over the flagstone plaza in front of the tomb and into the rocky canyon beyond. There was no path but Vlad and Mihir followed the walls of the canyon to its end, and found themselves in a place strewn with boulders. Spindly trees grew next to the canyon walls. Vlad and Mihir cut them away and found narrow slot canyons and explored these looking for the red moss.

Instead they encountered two of the vicious-looking pigmen that Roquelle had seen in the reeds of Barrow Creek. These didn’t run away, but attacked with their spears, making a strange “orc, orc!” grunting noise. Vlad dropped his crossbow and drew his sword. The orcs' spears were clumsy weapons in the slot canyon and Vlad killed them both.

Vlad and Mihir hiked back down into the main canyon and then hiked up into another one of the more narrow crevasses. Success at last!

Vlad and Mihir gathered handfuls of the red moss, moving further and further into the narrowing crevasse.

There was more moss and also more orcs. This time one attacked, while the other ran further up the crevasse and loudly blew a horn. Vlad killed one with his sword and shot the horn-blower with his crossbow. But out in the main canyon, he and Mihir could hear battle cries. They moved quickly down, hoping to exit the crevasse and get back to Garan without having to fight. But they weren’t fast enough. Three orcs met them. Vlad chose a narrow place where he could fight them one at a time. Mihir crouch on a boulder behind and, when an opportunity presented itself, lashed out with his flail. 

The three orcs fell, but more kept coming. One of them thrust his spear through the gap in Vlad’s breast plate ad also pierced the chain mail beneath. A larger orc appeared, wearing metal armor himself. He called the orcs out of the crevasse. Vlad and Mihir pursued them, and killed another two. As the crevasse widened, Vlad could no longer protect his cousin—while the orcs attacked on one side, another two attacked Mihir. A long spear pierced Mihir’s chest and other orcs pounced on him with their long knives, stabbing him repeatedly. Vlad killed one of his cousin's killers and then fell withdrew into the crevasse.

 The orcs did not follow, but stood waiting in the larger canyon, their spears pointing at him, daring him to try to escape the narrow crevasse. Vlad sheathed his sword, and pulled out his crossbow and fired it quick shot at the leader. His shot went wild and in his rush to reload as the leader ran for cover, Vlad jammed the firing mechanism. But as the chief orc cowered behind one of his minions, an especially ugly, white-face specimen, Vlad dropped his crossbow and charged with a war hammer in each hand. He threw the hammers as his enemies closed in and in the momentary confusion, drew his sword and killed the white-faced orc. The others reacted quickly. Vlad was struck by an axe that he fell to the ground. He rolled away from the stabbing spearpoints to regain his feet next to stunted pine tree and made what he thought would be his last stand.

There were four orcs, including the leader. They circled, stabbing with their spears. He slashed at them with his sword wildly, doing his best to keep their blades away from him. He feinted, baiting one into making charge. He dodged the point, grabbed the spear and killed its bearer, trusting his armor to absorb the blows from the orc chief. He turned on the orc chief, sword against sword, Vlad twisting his body this way and that to avoid the spear points. Suddenly Vlad turned and leaped at one of the other orcs, and killed him. The orc chief took a last wild swing; Vlad felt the chief’s sword glance off his shoulder plates, but by the time he turned, the orc chief was running away. One orc remained to guard his chief’s retreat and he was canny and tough. Knowing Vlad’s tricks, he waited, circling and making short thrusts.

 Only when Vlad, exhausted by the combat, stumbled to one knee did the orc charge. The spear point found a gap in Vlad’s plate and the orc leaned in with all his weight to pierce the mail. Vlad dropped his sword to seize the spear with both hands, and then threw himself backwards while rolling his body, throwing his enemy on the ground. Before the orc could regain his feet, Vlad recovered his sword and killed him. Remembering that his cousin Mihir wore a magical phylactery on his arm, Vlad removed his dead cousin’s armor to recover this item. In the course of completing this work, some feelings of sorrow or remorse emerged, and Vlad decided to also bring Mihir’s body back to Garan for a proper burial.

The people of Garan, were duly impressed by Vlad’s valor and startled by the news of monsters camped so close to the village and in the vicinity of Garan’s tomb. Friar Colter was grateful that Vlad had recovered enough blood moss for 10 torches. He would give 5 to Vlad and his companions, and the friars would carry the others on their patrols that night.

Garan Fest Part 1

Every year the village of Garanton hosts a weeklong festival honoring the legendary hero for which it was named.  In keeping with Garan’s reputation as a heroic knight, young warrior from far and wide gather to prove their mettle in tests of strength, horse-riding competitions, and feats-of-arms.  The contenders and the gathered assembly feast together every evening and at the end of the festival, the champion is presented with Garan’s Mantle at a ceremony in front of Garan’s tomb.

This year has attracted several impressive new contenders including Sir Henry de la Reine Blanche, Vlad of Matopher Orchard, and Roquelle of Hommelet. Each of them acquitted him- or her- self well in the initial competitions.  Their companions Mark, McDowell, Dumitru, and Mihir cheered them on.

And yet, they and their friends have noticed something strange going on at this year’s festival.  Mark the Magician, though he had arrived in Garanton after a long journey from with southlands in the company of Sir Henry and Vlad, had no personal interest in martial endeavors.  He was not the only one.  Many were there for commercial reasons, or for the revelry, or, like the traveling minstrels, for some combination of the two.  But Mark noted one or two others whose dour demeanor masked what purpose they had in spectating at an event that seemed to give them no enjoyment.

One man who more than compensated for his lack of warriorly virtue with enthusiasm for the event and for Garan himself, was a local sculptor named Brant Arwell who had carved a monumental frieze of Garan’s face into the cliffs overlooking Garanton.  He was now looking for a new project and approached Sir Miles to request that he and his companions sit for a formal portrait.  They agreed and made plans to meet at the abbey the next day.

Strangely, Brant was nowhere to be found on the second day.  Friar Ulric, the head of the abbey explained that Brant had gone the previous evening to put the finishing touches on his sculpture and had probably overslept.  His most immediate concern was the killing of livestock at a local homestead, presumably by wild animals.  The party visited the homestead.  Oddly, it appeared that whatever had killed the cattle had not eaten much of them

The Friar encouraged the party—or the competing warriors at least—to focus on the day’s completion which involved crossing the nearby Barrow Creek by jumping from log to another.  Roquelle made the first crossing, but in the second crossing, not only fell off the log, but hit her head and became so disoriented that the creek’s current began to carry her away.  When she swam to safety on the marshy side of the creek opposite Garanton, she got a glimpse of a pig-faced creature in the reeds who snarled at her and then ran away.

After the completion, the party decided to go and look for the sculptor.  At the top of the cliff, above the carving, they found some ruins, and also an intact stone arch.  Some of the writing on the arch could be deciphered enough that Mark understood that it made reference to the light of the moon. 

Sure enough, when they returned that night when the moon was up, the arch was glowing—and they could hear a voice coming out of it.  Roquelle boldly walked through the archway hoping that she might be transported somewhere.  Nothing extraordinary happened to her, but McDowell noticed shadows emerging from the glowing surface of the arch itself.  

When these shadows took the form of fanged, flying monsters, the party attacked with arrows, hurled stones, and from the fingertips of Mark the Magician, “bolts of pure energy.”  One of these monsters descended on Roquelle, knocking her to the ground, and slashing her badly.  A second attacked Vlad, but was repelled by his armor.  A third was killed by missiles, and the fourth swooped down from the cliff, over the village and out of sight.  Sir Henry rushed to assist Roquelle while Vlad and his cousin Dumetru teamed up on the other shadow monster.  They were strange opponents—when Roquelle slashed one with her sword, it seemed to tear like fabric, its shadowy form becoming semi-transparent.  They were also fast and vicious.  When Vlad pinned one to the ground with his foot and raised his sword to slay it, the monster lashed him with its tail, raked his leg with its claw and flew back into the air—only to swoop down once more, fangs pointed at his face.  But the heroes prevailed and destroyed their enemies.

Mihir tended to his companion’s wounds—especially Roquelle who had been clawed and bitten multiple times.  There was a short debate on whether they should enter the arch, but the party decided instead to return to the village to warn the friars that at least one shadow monster was still on the loose.

The next morning, the party learned that more livestock had been killed and this time the farmers had seen the fiend responsible, a shadowy, fanged, flying creature.  The party of course was able to help the witnesses complete their description.  

Maze of Nuromen (2 of 2)

After Chrono’s departure, the party tried some more names against the “skeletons” door (without success) and then returned to the gardens. Cutting through the overgrown vines, they found a secret passage where they were attacked by a pair of zombies. The passage led to a little girl’s bedroom. (Here, among other places, I soft-pedalled the creepiness that saturates this adventure. Part of makes it so effective is its roots in realism. This wizard, along with being crazy and evil, also had a family that he loved very much. And, unlike in many other very other good adventures, the back story isn’t background for the DM’s private entertainment.) Among the ribbons and bows and toys, there was a magical dancing puppet, with the inscription “Always for Altheana.” Wolfgang claimed the puppet.

The party also found a staircase to a lower level, and descended, hoping they would find out what happened to Gerrilynn and Caitlynn. Instead they found a room containing goblins. Because this is a well-conceived adventure, the goblins did not simply attack. Instead they started a conversation, with one or two goblins speaking to the party in common while the others conversed among themselves in their own language. The goblins wanted to know if the party had a key because they really shouldn’t be down there without a key. And how many were they? Not so many only a hundred or two, and did the visitors have anything to eat. Wolfgang shared his wine and the goblins shared their cold bouillon and they all agreed they would meet again soon.

The party left the goblins debating whether they should ask to go to their “base.” When they soon found another locked iron door they suddenly understood why the goblins wanted a key. When they returned to the goblins room, they found it barred. The occupants explained that they were napping and that they were in the middle of a ritual to summon a monster and maybe they shoud all talk later when that key had been found?

Meanwhile . . . Gerrilynn and Caitlynn resolved that since Nuromen secreted the elf crown in the caverns, there should be a way to access them from his stronghold—other than by way of a cold dark stream. They crossed to the other side, and found more and more narrow twisting passages. The smell of the reptile-men lingered everywhere. And they had no materials for making a map. The safest course of action it seemed, was to stay in one place and wait for the rest of the party to find them. They returned to the stream and the treasure room.

As the main party returned upstairs, Wolfgang had an idea. He led the others to the main courtyard and walked up to the metal doors depicting skeletons and other sights related to death. When the death’s head demanded a password, he had an answer: “Altheana”

“You may pass”

Inside thy found a particularly macabre wizard’s laboratory and—a set of iron keys. These keys allowed the party to get behind the iron doors on the lower level and they renewed their hope of finding Gerrilynn, Caitlynn, and/or the crown.

They explored a series of rooms containing sculptures, paintings, or amulets depicting a four-armed fanged baboon. This was scary and weird and provided a compelling thematic progression. And it was an effective “palate-cleanser” after the succession and password-and-puzzle obstacles th party had just overcome. The complete absence of monsters only added to the suspense that reached its climax when they reached the tomb of Nuromen.

Like the goblins, Nuromen did not immediately attack. Trapped in an undead state, he seemed eager to know how the living had fared in passing through his dungeons. He laughed as their arrows passed through him. White Bear listening in from the next room even though neither her PC nor her Gerrilynn’s henchmen were involved, urged the other players to “attack with magic weapons!” Wolfgang imbued his staff with a temporary enchantment and only when he landed a solid blow on Nuromen’s undead skull did the necromancer begin to fight in earnest, seizing Wolfgang in his chilling, life-draining grasp. Wolfgang shook free and retreated, while Vulpio charged into battle with his magic war hammer, shrugging off a blast of magical energy from Nuromen’s fingers. Nuromen crumpled under a blow from Vulpio’s hammer, and when the second blow landed, he crumbled to dust. Mardiuw and Kirito fought off and destroyed Nuromen’s entourage of zombies.

The party recovered treasure from Nuromen’s tomb, but no crown. And there was still no sign of Gerrilynn or Caitlynn. The party agreed that it was time to return to the surface.

Meanwhile . . . Gerrilynn and Csitlynn camped in the darkness of the treasure cavern, and over a day or so, ate their rations. In time, they began to consider the possibility that they would never be found, and would need to seek their own way out. Caitlynn’s torches and her tinder box had dried out. She lit a torch. Together they explored the cavern more thoroughly. They found one section where the stalactites and stalagmites had been cleared away. Masonry blocks framed a doorway. Just as Caitlynn discovered the handle on the stone slab that would open the secret door, a glistening, gelatinous cube slid down from the ceiling. Gerrilynn pulled her out of the way just in time. The pair retreated to higher ground and pelted it with rocks and arrows. It pursued them, and as it reached Caitlynn, she found its touch numbing, even partly paralyzing. Gerrilynn thrust the lit torch forward. The cube started to melt. Caitlynn broke off a chunk of the cube with a solid blow of her club. Gerrilynn held her torch to another part of the gelatinous mass and it broke down into a jelly and then a liquid. Sitting down to rest, the two women heard voices from the direction of the stream . . .

Wolfgang, Vulpio, and Mardiuw rose from the dark depths of the maze to the heady afternoon light of the Island of Lost Dreams. Chickie was waiting for them, eager for any news. Bruised, battered, and shaken, they refused to discuss whether they might be giving up their quest or any hope of finding Gerrilynn alive. The pixies who lived on the island gave them succor—nourishing food and easy slumber. They awakened mere hours later, much refreshed. Vulpio had a dream that he eagerly shared with Wolfgang. They should go into the stream. He didn’t believe Mardiuw would survive, but Wolfgang was an excellent swimmer and he, Vulpio would rather die than desert a friend. Wolfgang agreed and Chickie insisted that he woukd follow them. They planned for their risky venture, leaving their armour behind, and carrying small weapons.

Vulpio went first, then Chickie, then Wolfgang. Chickie was nearly swept past the landing site a d down into yet lower levels of the cavern, but Wolfgang risked his own life to save him. Safely on dry land, they saw a dim light in te cavern beyond . . . and also heard women shouting. . .

So the party was reunited at last. They passed through the secret door that Gerrilynn had discovered. Wolfgang and Vulpio recognized the statute of the multi-armed baboon but were initially disoriented with regards to how to get out. But they referred to their map and once they found the stairs up to the garden, they were able to find their way.

 In summary,

This is a great module, classic in form and subtle in its novelty.  It has a deep back story that will be appreciated not by the DM but by players who pay close attention. It's sized well.  The rooms and encounters are not stripped down to the essentials of the chain-of-keys-ad-passwords plot.  At th same time, with the possible exception of the wandering monster tables (which are generic Moldvay basic) there's no filler either-- the set encounters all belong in the lair of an evil wizard who should be long dead.

Maze of Nuromen (1 of 2)

Maze of Nuromen (now available as the Necropolis of Nuromen) is billed as a first-level adventure and involves the retrieval of an elven artefact from the ruins of the “Maze of Nuromen,” the lair of a long-dead wizard. As noted by 10-foot Pole, that set-up could be described as classic or cliché. While he praises the adventure, he suggests that it’s best for new players because they will not be put-off by its use of well-known elements. White Bear, an experienced if casual player, commented that this was one of her favorite adventures ever, that she really felt drawn into it and was thinking about it between sessions. Isa Girl Monkey, who has also been playing D&D for over five years also showed an enthusiasm while playing that she often keeps to herself. On the other hand, the other three players were children (11 years old) and thus relatively new to the game.

Because I have run this adventure, I’m writing this review as a play report, summarizing each of the five sessions, interspersed with advice on running the adventure and assessments of the product. Spoilers abound.

In the first session, the following PCs and NPCs entered the Maze of Nuromen through a steeply-sloped hole they’d found on the Island of Lost Dreams:

Wolfgang (PC- 3rd level druid)
Kirito (PC- 1st leverl ranger)
Gerrilynn (PC played by White Bear 3rd level cleric) with her henchmen Chickie (NPC 3rd level thief) and Caitlynn (NPC 1st level ranger).
Vulpio (PC played by Isa Girl Monkey) with his henchmen Mardiuw (NPC 1st level thief).

Most of these characters were close to levelling up and did so between sessions. A group of brand new 1st level characters would have a tough time—though admittedly we had no deaths at all over the five sessions.

As they entered the Maze, the party experienced their first near-death in the form a fast-moving underground stream cutting through room. Caitlynn was clumsy, slipped on a rock and was swept out of the room and into the darkness. Faithful Gerrilynn, stripped off her heavy armour and dove in after her. The others crossed the stream safely, and proceeded to explore the rest of the maze. Splitting the party—for the DM this is impossible to do perfectly. Even if you take each group into their room—the fact that you are bouncing between the two rooms lets everyone know that at least the others are alive. Nevertheless, this is kind of what we did, but with much airtime devoted to the main party. White Bear ran Gerriynn’s henchman Chickie so she wasn’t left out.

The party soon found themselves in what seemed to be the center of the Maze—an underground courtyard with two sets of metal doors—one bearing scenes of feasting and more feasting (or as I said “feasting and more feasting”) the other bearing scenes of “skeletons.” Suspecting reverse psychology, the party went for the “skeletons” door, but one of the gruesome faces on the door came to life and demanded a password. After many many attempts, the party, still fearing the “feast” door, exited through one of the prosaic wooden stores. They mapped well and after passing through some other rooms, found themselves in a huge fireplace that seemed to be shared with the feasting room. Kirito the ranger went through the fireplace to investigate. There was another room on the other side and Kirito caught whiff of a horrible stench—possibly the worst thing he’d ever smelled—and yet strangely familiar. Kirito covered his ears and slipped back into the kitchen, warning the others to do the same. Wolfgang understood. After they’d all moved a safe distance away, Wolfgang brought out his candles and everyone plugged their ears with wax and they returned to the feasting room, ready for battle.

Sure enough, the terrible half-women half-birds emerged from the rafters, their faces twisted in fury. As they circled, Wolfgang produced a small ball of flame and threw it at them, catching one and setting its greasy wings alight. Both monsters descended, and were met by the weapons of Vulpio and Kirito. With the others’ assistance, the harpies were destroyed.  

Underneath the harpies’ filth, the feasting room was lavishly furnished. The party filled their backpacks will gold and silver dinnerware and returned to the surface. They tended to their wounds and asked the elves whether maybe they’d heard anything from Gerrilynn and Caitlynn? No.  

Meanwhile . . . in the underground caverns . . .

After being dunked by the rushing stream and bounced against the walls of the winding tunnel, Caitlynn and Gerrilynn emerged in another cavern at least large enough to lift their heads above the water to breath and with banks wide and sandy enough that they could escape the stream’s current. As they dragged themselves from the water, calling out for each in the darkness, they heard voices, alien and menacing and the sound of footsteps echoing from all sides. The shock of being hit by something sharp, a spear or arrow from the darkness was almost a relief. Gerrilynn called out to Raud asking to halt their unseen assailants. After another volley of missiles, the attack ended. Caitlynn, judging by the direction from which the spears had come, felt her way across the stream and slew their transfixed enemies. Then the two adventurers collapsed into slumber.

The main party, accompanied by a new companion, Chrono the druid (PC-- 2nd level), continued to explore the Maze of Nuromen.  

One of the highlights was a large, overgrown garden. As a DM, I had some difficulty describing it—even though they were underground on an island, this garden grew in the sunlight and open air—on a shelf surrounded by a stone balustrade. Still, this place was very atmospheric—lots of strange plants with stinking fruits, twisting tiled path, and fountains with statues that spit and piss when someone steps on the wrong pressure plate. The monsters—fire beetles were something of an unnecessary distraction.

The party came upon another locked metal door. Wolfgang found a pickaxe and did his best to break the stone that framed the iron door, but was defeated. Chrono, feeling claustrophobic and nauseous, expressed his wish to return to the upper world. Chickie, who had been injured in the garden, also wished to escape the maze. The rest of the party escorted them to the room with stream and saw them safely across.

Meanwhile . . . Gerrilynn awakened and prayed for light to help her explore the cavern. She roused Caitlynn. They turned away from the stream and sought dryer ground. They followed a series of crooked tunnels into a large cavern with a box of jewellery in the middle. After testing that it wasn’t a trap or an illusion, they got closer and found among the other treasures, a silver and gold circlet that matched the elves’ description. Gerrilynn put the crown on her head and Caitlynn noticed an immediate change—the always compelling prophetess now seemed to take on an extra, elven layer of . . . charisma.