Jarrod's Regenerative Elixir

Patriarch Jarrod of Pelor, amateur medicinal herbalist from the town of Sobanwych, has been dabbling in the relationship between the regenerative properties of the monstrous troll and those of his usual botanical subjects. His latest experiment is what he calls The Regenerative Elixir. It is fortunate that he has an adventurous flock, willing to partake in his bold experiments. The latest subject has been the priest Neirdre. Besides Neirdre's very slight green pallor, the apparently permanent effects of imbibing the Elixir are as follow:
- Three rounds after the subject has taken hit point damage from a source besides fire or acid the Elixir will begin to regenerate hit points at the rate of one per round. The regenerative effect will continue until the subject's maximum hit point total has been reached or the subject is cured or healed through some magical means. If the subject's wounds are stanched naturally, yet full hit points are not restored, hit points will continue to regenerate at the same rate.
- All severed limbs will grow back unless they are subjected to fire or acid damage. Magical healing will also negate this effect. The time it takes for full growth of the severed limb is proportion dependent, usually anywhere between 6 hours to 72 hours.
- The Elixir will bring the subject back from beyond death's door. A resurrection survival roll is required and, if successful, the subject is still required to remove one point from his constitution score permanently. If the subject's death has been caused by fire or acid damage, the effects of the Elixir will have been considered fully expunged - even if the subject is brought back to life by other means.
- When hit points cease regenerating for whatever reason (e.g.: fire/acid damage, full hit points restored, magical healing), regenerated hit points are tallied and equal a percentage chance for the individual to begin transforming into a troll. Just a troll. No vestige of the former character remains other than the clothes he or she may be wearing. There may be some resemblance physically to the former character, but none whatsoever mentally. The d100 roll is made immediately after regeneration ceases. The transformation will take place in 1d6 hours (DM's secret roll) and is irreversible.

Some Views of the Gnarley

Low Summer

Autumn

The Battle of Emridy Meadows Part III

"News of the victory at Emridy Meadows spread fast to Hommlet, the first evidence coming as strange men dressed in ochre were sighted running through the village in panic. The Temple of Elemental Evil lay within a couple days march for the allied host. Their coming emboldened the local villagers and farmers, knowing the end of the Temple were at hand. The allied forces, having met no resistance on their march were refreshed and well supplied once they finally laid siege to the walled fortress of the Temple. Inside the cult of Elemental Evil futilely held out with a scant garrison of troops, falling within a fortnight as the army threw down the upper works of their fortress just short of damaging the central Temple itself. Only a few of the vile leaders of the Temple managed to escape, and it is said these vengeful individuals were later to blame for the sudden disappearance of Prince Thrommel IV in 573 CY."

"Fearing a raid on the dungeons of the profane Temple would be too costly given the presence of a major demoness (Zuggtmoy), Prince Thrommel summoned all his mages and clerics to cooperate in creating great seals to bind this evil within the deepest parts of her own dungeon.5 Four pairs of large bronze doors starting with the Grand Entrance of the Temple were each bound with heavy iron chains and their seams filled with softened metal. Lastly runes were carved into the bronze portals bearing abjurations of arcane and holy power. With the final spells in place Evil was contained at last, but in the following years, agents of Good would remain nearby to keep an eye on the Temple for its inevitable resurgence."

"Nearly inconsequential during the siege of the Temple, the raiders’ Moathouse was the last piece to fall before Thrommel’s quest was complete. While the Prince oversaw the binding of the Temple, he sent a splinter force with their leftover siege machines to take the small outpost. Remarkably a mob of villagers from Hommlet, long terrorized by the evils of this place, joined in to help surround and raze the Moathouse."

"There was no shortage of heroes at the Battle of Emridy Meadows. Viscount Wilfrick attained fame for his part in commanding the campaign. His fortune and gratitude was shown to Hommlet through the construction of a temple of St. Cuthbert and the beginnings of a walled castle bestowed upon Burne the wizard and his friend the warrior Rufus, both veterans of Emridy. Another fighter earning fame at Emridy Meadows was Ricard Damaris who lost a finger on his left hand and suffered a wound that left him the distinctive triangular scar on his face. Ricard would later return to the Temple of Elemental Evil with the opportunistic Lord Robilar to help plunder its dungeons and earn enough to retire as the owner of the popular Green Dragon Inn in Greyhawk City. And brave Serten was given a grandiose funeral service in Verbobonc attended by many who fought with him at Emridy. Ironically, also in attendance were all his former companions from the disbanded Citadel of Eight whom for their own selfish reasons, had failed to take part in the most historic battle of the century."

Source: canonfire.com - Aftermath of the Battle of Emridy Meadows

The Battle of Emridy Meadows Part II

"It was at dawn when the horde was roused early from their rest by the signal horns of the allies preparing their formations for battle. The packed ranks of the allied contingents were arrayed so that 500 pikemen were protected on their flank by the Velverdyva River while at the center was displayed the colorful banners of 400 light cavalry and 100 heavy cavalry led by Thrommel himself. Finally, on the allied left were deployed blocks of 200 Lortmil dwarves and 100 Kron Hill gnomes, with about 50 elven archers of clan Meldarin positioned in between.3 The Horde of Elemental Evil was comprised of two forces. On the hordes’ left flank rode 550 human cavalry made up of bandits and Nulbish thugs with little experience in warfare beyond raiding lightly defended caravan trains. To the bandit’s right was a much larger force of humanoid infantry, a host of 3500 orcs drawn from the dark forests to the southeast and even the very depths of the Oerth. Also among them howled frenzied warbands of gnolls some 500 strong, and towering over all nearly 20 crudely armed ogres culled by the Temple from the surrounding wilds to provide heavy support."

"With reckless abandon the cultist lieutenants commanded their human cavalry ranks to engage the right flank and center of the allied forces, not that the rabble of humanoids gave them much choice. The majority of the Horde immediately charged the allied left flank once they saw the shields and heard the taunts of their traditional enemies. The enraged mass of humanoids was allowed to push aside the smaller demi-human ranks in a hasty attempt to encircle the rest of the allied army. Thrommel’s pikemen and screening cavalry also allowed the charging bandit cavalry to penetrate their line leaving them between the bend of the Velverdyva River and packed in with the encircling mob of humanoids. This of course sprung the trap planned by the Prince. At once the whole allied army pivoted counter-clockwise to encircle the Horde in this pocket. As Thrommel’s knights quickly turned to counter-attack the humanoid main body from the rear, 150 more elven warriors came from hidden reserve in the Gnarley Forest to close the killing arc.4 With their backs to the river and their leadership in disarray, the Horde of Elemental Evil was completely routed. While most fought to the death, scattered groups did manage to break out of the allied lines only to be hunted down or drowned in flight. However some survivors were allowed to flee south back to their Temple as a message of what was to come next."

"After the field was won Prince Thrommel wasted little time in rallying his weary troops and collecting their fallen. The most storied among those slain at Emridy was Serten of St. Cuthbert who fell during the final moments of the battle zealously defending the Prince to his last breath. This would later be a major loss to the allies’ plans for their next phase in the campaign, the siege of the Temple of Elemental Evil."

Source: canonfire.com - Battle of Emridy Meadows

The Battle of Emridy Meadows Part I

"Sometime in the late 550s the village of Nulb began to fester with all manner of evil folk, culminating with the founding of the soon infamous Temple of Elemental Evil. Before long local caravans, gnome clans and the neighboring village of Hommlet became easy targets for bandits from that region. Following many years of these simple raids and complacency among the rural folk, matters grew steadily worse by 568 CY. First was the construction of the Moathouse, an outpost east of Hommlet meant for further raids, then agents of Good also discovered that not only was the Temple mustering a small army but that the cult of Elemental Evil was actually under the direction of a powerful demoness."

"News of this Evil quickly spread from the Viscounty of Verbobonc to the ears of Prince Thrommel IV, Marshall of the combined armies of Furyondy and Veluna and also a renowned paladin. Compelled into a quest, the Prince left behind his concerns to the north, and promptly called upon his most pious knights, clerics and his own picked guards to help bring down this profane temple. Shortly after crossing the Velverdyva River in the spring of 569 CY, the host of Prince Thrommel joined with waiting contingents summoned from Veluna and Verbobonc. Accompanying these forces was Serten of St. Cuthbert, the lone member of the Citadel of Eight to volunteer aid to Thrommel’s cause.1 Not long after the allied column began their slow march to the southeast they were met by a welcome council of demi-human bands from the Lortmils, Kron Hills and the Gnarley Forest, who had similarly decided to deal with the growing presence of evil at their borders."

"When the allied forces closed to within a day of the Temple they first encountered the enemy on the open fields several leagues south of Verbobonc City and northwest of Hommlet called Emridy Meadows. The bulk of the Temple’s human forces, comprised of mostly mounted bandits, brigands and mercenaries had moved to stall Thrommel’s advance. Elven scouts then reported that a much larger than expected army of creatures was approaching from the south. Knowing the Temple might empty its entire horde early, Thrommel went with a contingency plan drawn up in council. In an attempt to draw this Horde of Elemental Evil away from any population centers, he ordered the withdrawal of the entire allied column north, to a strategic position near the east bank of the Velverdyva River. Despite some later historical accounts there was no significant fighting at Emridy Meadows, for the only action that day was light cavalry skirmishes screening the withdrawal to a more favorable battlefield.2 Outnumbering their foes by more than three to one and eager for their first combat victory in the region, the Horde of Elemental Evil predictably pursued Thrommel’s forces north."

Source: canonfire.com - Prelude to the Battle of Emridy Meadows

The Seasons of Greyhawk

Not just Veluna but the whole of Greyhawk.

A History of the Viscounty of Verbobonc

The Viscounty of Verbobonc has a long history in the Flanaess. In fact, one might venture to say that the history of the Viscounty is actually rooted in pre-history. The following is taken from an ancient and learned source:

"Long before the coming of humanity, Verbobonc was an elven settlement set on a wooded hilltop overlooking a spot where a minor tributary, Gillendyl’s Run, enters the Velverdyva River’s wide expanse. The small river town featured an impressive elven tower fortress surrounded by yet more tall, thin towers, narrow walkways, lofty houses, and parkways filled with delicate wood and ceramic statuary. Considered a safe haven on the great river, a market place developed along the riverbank attracting goods from near and far."
"The local elves shared their lives and livelihood with the good gnomes of the Kron Hills to the south, banding together to battle off threats from the north and east. Verbobonc, then, was a military town, aligned with the gray elves of Enstad, though a political entity unto itself. Her elven patrols ranged into the deep Gnarley Forest to the east, the Kron Hills to the south, and through the Iron Wood to the west. The surrounding hillocks still hold relics of those ancient days, slowly crumbling towers of unsurpassed beauty, troves of buried arrowheads and still-useful armor. It is even said there remain elven Old Places, sacred refuges hidden in the magical folds of wood and hill."
"As civilized humans entered the Flanaess and most elves receded into the woodlands, Verbobonc gained more importance as a trade port on the Velverdyva River. At this time, many elves quit Verbobonc, leaving the town to the gnomes and the new arrivals. Humans soon took over the great elven fortress for which the ground dwelling gnomes had little interest. What few elves remained were content with their ipp houses. Thus began a new period in the history of the region, in which the two majority races worked together to improve and grow Verbobonc into a state of its own, not beholden to any greater power."
"At the dawn of the first century CY, the two primary races of Verbobonc encircled their growing town with walls. They constructed hundreds of new buildings, mixing a distinctly gnome architecture with the existing elven structures, and more human styles. In this spirit was the slogan "Earth and Stone, Man and Gnome" carved above the city’s east gate, a motto and approach to life that endures to this day."
"The viscounty was formally incorporated into Veluna and the Viceroyalty of Ferrond in 119 CY. Verbobonc became the primary river port for Veluna, a fact that made it a primary target of Keoish aggression in the 350s CY. By 355 CY the Second Keoland Expeditionary Force had taken Devarnish and fanned out into the lands south all the way to the Lortmils and east passed the Iron Wood and into the Kron Hills. Only Canon Turgen IV of Mitrik’s negotiation of the Treaty of Devarnish saved the remainder of Verbobonc territory from annexation. However, much of the western lands of the viscounty were occupied. The looming Castle Estival, just east of the Iron Wood housed the furthest eastward Keoish garrison. From there the forces of Keoland controlled all trade traveling on the Great Western Road and controlled the western and southern approaches to Verbobonc Town itself. In 415 CY, however, a new governor for the northern Keoland provinces arrived, Commander Berlikyn of Gran March. He initiated a program of grim oppression in the occupied lands, and by 436 CY publicly threatened to violate the Treaty of Devarnish and annex the whole of Veluna, including Verbobonc, in the name of the Keoish crown."
"Whether the king of Furyondy decided to act due to the agents dispatched by the Velunese canon in that year, or because the looming threat of Keoland had simply become too large to ignore, act he did. The armies of Furyondy surged into Veluna, battling south of the Velverdyva in a ferocious series of actions soon known as the Short War. Several volunteer companies from Verbobonc assisted a small Furyondian force in isolating the Keoland garrison in Castle Estival, rendering them helpless. The bulk of the Furyondy armies battled to the west through Veluna, the Fals Gap, and capturing all of Bissel in the process by 438 CY.
Following the Short War, Verbobonc grew distant from Mitrik. Its viscount still sent a delegate to sit on the Celestial Order of the Moons, but never again would the people of the Viscounty be considered completely willing vassals. The Velunese College of Bishops, rallied by a contingent of orthodox Cuthbertine Overseers, voted overwhelmingly to break from Furyondy in 446 CY signing an agreement known as the Concordat of Eademer. In these years, the church of Saint Cuthbert came into great prominence in Verbobonc, inspired in no small part by the actions of the Cuthbertine Overseers in the College of Bishops. To many in the Viscounty it was taken as a sign of autonomy. Gradually, over time, clerics of Saint Cuthbert displaced Raoan clerics in important government roles throughout Verbobonc."
"In the early 500s CY Verbobonc forces assisted their gnome-friends in the Kron Hills. Gnome volunteers from the Kron in turn assisted their relatives in the Lortmils during the Hateful Wars, when the dwarves and gnomes of the mountains forced out nearly all the major humanoid tribes. Verbobonc forces helped patrol those areas of the Kron left unprotected by the gnomes fighting away from home and protecting their southern frontiers from humanoid incursions."
"The trading town might have fallen from the gaze of history if not for the development, in the late 550s of a nexus of evil southeast of the town, I the Kron Hills. This outpost, the infamous Temple of Elemental Evil, soon became a beacon for vile men and humanoids from across the Flanaess. These evil forces began raiding the overland caravan routes which pass through or near Hommlet, thus threatening this avenue of trade between Dyvers and Verbobonc as well as the local hill folk and gnomes. The raids did not appear alarming at first, but gradually increased over time. Efforts by the Gnarley Rangers, mounted patrols from Verbobonc, local woodsmen, and gnomes from Ostverk apparently checked, but did not stop, the spread of outlawry and evil. In the year 560 CY various troubles began to crop up between the Viscounty and the Kron Hill gnomes. Trade goods disappeared on their trek from the Kron Hills to Verbobonc City, gnome merchants reported being harassed by Verbobonc patrols, Verbobonc patrols reported defeating humanoid raiding parties paid by gnomish coin, and gnome claims of human raids on their caravans. Worst of all was an attempted assassination of Prince Jimm of the gnomes of the Kron Hills, a resident of Verbobonc City. All of these troubles proved to be the doings of an agent from the Temple of Elemental Evil. He was revealed and chased out of the city."
"By 568 CY, it became clear that the Temple villains had established an army, and the following year saw a banding together of the forces of good to clear the Verbobonc lands of its evil scourge. Contingents of men-at-arms and cavalry from Verbobonc, Furyondy, and Veluna, together with a force of dwarves from the Lortmils, gnomes from the Kron Hills, and an army of elven archers and spearmen gathered together against the vast horde of evil men and humanoids based at the Temple of Elemental Evil. The opposing forces initially met on the grassy fields south of the Velverdyva River and several leagues to the east of Verbobonc Town. The allied forces of good maneuvered against the evil forces, closing upon the stronghold of the evil creatures, the walled Temple near Nulb, not far from Hommlet. Elven scouts reported that a huge evil army was approaching from the south. The Marshall of Furyondy, leader of the combined forces, ordered a withdrawal northward to a position scouted earlier. This new position would afford more open ground for the heavy cavalry and pikemen to effectively operate. Light cavalry skirmishers were sent out to screen the withdrawal, and no real fighting took place that day."
"The horde of evil creatures and men marched forth the next morning into the Emridy Meadows northwest of Nulb. These meadows were so named from the Emridy Run, a small tributary of the Imeryds Run, which enters the larger river from the west. The allied army waited with formed ranks, pike-men from Furyondy, Veluna and Verbobonc were arrayed so that their right flank was secured by the Emridy Run; in the center were the banners of horse, and on the allied left were deployed bands of dwarves and gnomes, with a few units of elven archers place in the intervals between. The flank of the demihumans protected by the Imeryds Run. The humanoids fell immediately upon the allied left, while the men in the evil ranks rode to engage the allied center and right. The hordes of orcs, gnolls, and ogres thrust aside their hated foes and rushed to encircle the balance of the allied army. But, this fell into the Marshall of Furyondy’s planned trap. The whole human portion of the allied army pivoted backward to the left as the demi-humans pivoted backward and right, and a large contingent of previously screened heavy cavalry charged into the right flank of the humanoids. Meanwhile, squares of elves emerged from the Imeryds Run where they had remained hidden until this moment. Trapped in this pocket with the pike-men now advancing into their left flank, the cavalry in their front, the demi-humans on their right and the elven squares at their rear, the packed mass of evil humans and humanoids fought hopelessly. When the great slaughter was finished, the allies went on to besiege the Temple of Elemental Evil itself. It fell after a fortnight. Powerful mages and clerics sealed the temple ruins with arcane bindings, claiming to have trapped a powerful demon within its golden doors."
"The peace was short lived. The so-called "Second Rising" of the Horde of Elemental Evil surprised no one. Viscount Wilfrick, alerted to the growing evil by agents in the south, ordered the construction of a castle at the sleepy village of Hommlet. In the late 570s, dozens of parties of adventurers sallied forth against the temple."

Source: canonfire.com - Greywiki, Viscounty of Verbobonc

Sessions 16 - 25, Aelfric's Journal: A Welcome Respite

20th of Patchwall (Autumn) 579 CY

Ostler Gundigoot was a rotund man of great empathy and intelligence. I was able to speak to him while we waited for the elf to return. We talked of the weather and the hazards of travelling in these parts. I inquired of the location of the church of St. Cuthbert and spoke of our intent to plumb the depths of the infamous edifice near the town of Nulb. He seemed a bit disturbed that we were planning to take on the temple, being so obviously new to the adventuring game. His suggestion to me was to seek counsel with the blacksmith here in Hommlet. I asked, "What would a blacksmith have to do with such matters?" Gundigoot chuckled and shook his head saying, "He's just down the street from here. Likely, ye passed 'is cottage on the way to me Inn - tell 'im I sent ye." I smiled at his pleasant demeanor and tossed him a noble for his advice and service.
I informed my companions about the kindly advice of the inn-keep and sat waiting for our roguish partner to arrive. It was then that Sir Branden noticed the two surly fellows sitting at a corner table. The tall one was oily and wiry. The short one was a rotund scowling fellow. I noticed that they were throwing seedy glances in our direction. My information about Hommlet was that it was a quiet, safe little village. These fellows were not the sorts to be found in such a quaint place. I turned from the sour faces of the rogues and to the face of... Elledan. He was a sneaky fellow! While I had been contemplating the situation in which we'd found ourselves, the slippery elf had found his way in and sat his arse at our table. The elf was locked in a glare with the lanky fellow and it seemed for a moment that a brawl was soon to be had.

Elledan signaled for the serving wench who soon arrived at our table. I noticed the Suel readying some arcane component, presumably preparing for a confrontation. The elf tossed the girl a gold orb and gestured toward the slimy tavern-goers, "Two ales, for those gentlemen across the room." She scurried off and returned shortly to our neighbors' table with two large flagons of good ale. I saw her gesture toward our little group and the men raised their mugs heartily and swigged the frothy brew.
Elledan took to a tavern like a stirge to a naked longshoreman. It was his element. He danced and preened, gambled and cajoled. The Suel sat brooding over some tome he pulled from his pack. The Pelorian began to entertain the group with cat tricks. The cat, known now as "Kitty" jumped and swayed, chased mice and entertained nearly as much as the rogue. It was all very much uncommon and likely something that my old canon would dismiss as overly peculiar. I drank a little more and found myself singing an old bawdy hymn from my days on the streets of Hardby, quite enjoying this "peculiar" situation.

Sessions 11 - 15, Aelfric's Journal: The Town of Hommlet

15th of Patchwall (Autumn) 579 CY

As the landscape began to give way to open terrain and ancient hedgerows, I realized that we were coming upon the village of Hommlet. It was just a few days journey from the encounter with the goblins. There was a distinct chill in the air marking the advent of Ready'reat. To the west, the distant Lortmils were peaked with the white of first snow.
The holy day of Iuz the Old was upon us and I felt it necessary to seek sanctuary in a house of St. Cuthbert. It was of great comfort that the village we were entering was home to just such a shrine. The place was a gift to Hommlet for the townsfolk's help in routing the forces of evil at the Battle of Emridy Meadows and in memory to the great Serten of St. Cuthbert. It may have been disappointing to my friend Sorin that the nearest temple to Pelor was located in Sobanwych, a full twenty leagues distant. However, I invited the entire group to seek shelter with me in the home of the Cudgeled One. The fellows of the moat seemed much more interested in seeking out the establishment known as the Inn of the Welcome Wench - especially the elf. I could not fault them as the place had a reputation for fine fare throughout the central Flanaess.
We came into town early on the fourth day of our trek. We had recovered fully from our encounter with the bloody goblins. Various townsfolk were up early going about their trades, such is the lot of their lives. We found ourselves approaching the hanging sign of a young buxom woman brandishing full flagons of ale. It was a warm and open barroom with a smiling and jovial bartender named Ostler Gundigoot. The season was late, so there were plenty of other patrons enjoying a drink and a bit of food. We each ordered a small breakfast and something to wash the dust of the trail from our throats. It was then that I noticed the elf eyeballing the other denizens of the tavern. I considered the dancer for a moment. On our journey I saw that Elledan had a certain begrimed demeanor. While the good Knight of St. Cuthbert and the Pelorian were somewhat meticulous about their own personal hygiene, the fay rogue kept very little faith in that regimen. I thought that this was quite anomalous for one of his kind.
I asked, "Where do you hail from?" with a tacit nod to the elf. His wandering gaze focused on me and for just a moment I felt I saw a hint of discomfort instead of the expected twinkle in his eyes. "Fax" he said, referring to one of the cities of the Wild Coast. I nodded and felt it best to let any further questions slip to the wayside. Sorin indicated that he also was from Fax and that his cat was from Elredd. Sir Branden was reared in Courwood and had met these fellows on this very trip, shortly before I had. The nameless mage, appearing to avoid the question, got up to warm his hands at the blazing fireplace. The Pelorian raised an eyebrow asking "And where do you call home, good Aelfric?" I told him of my background on the streets of Hardby and how I've known no parent but Cuthbert, my patron. This brought about a discussion on theology and we spoke at some length on the various minutiae of each another's doctrine. The whole time, Sorin's feline lay curled around his nape, snoring gently.
As I rose for another fine sample of Gundigoot's ales, I realized that one of our number was missing. I found myself unsurprised by the fact that the culprit was the shifty elf. "Where's Elledan?" I asked Sorin. "He does this from time to time," he answered with a shrug. "He just... takes off." I didn't feel that this was the proper way to get to know one another, but again, to each their own.

Sessions 1 - 10, Aelfric's Journal: A Chance Meeting

10th of Patchwall (Autumn) 579 CY

I stood, looked briefly at the rough group and yelled "goblins!" I turned, cudgel in hand, hoping that the silent band would understand and keep my back. As the first member of the little group of vermin crested the embankment I could see in my peripheral an arrow fly through the air and plunge into the chest of an unfortunate goblin. It looked as though the entire group of monsters with the exception of the leader and the strange hoofed creature, were coming over the rise. They all appeared to be quite surprised by the impromptu group I had stumbled upon. They foolishly attacked anyway.
A pale mage spewed forth bluish missiles at one of the creatures - killing it. The rest of the travelers drew weapons as the goblins advanced. A knight held his ground and dutifully beheaded another goblin while a white arrayed Pelorian was able to dispatch another with his mace. Plying feathered death at his rank targets, a sure footed elf flitted from one vantage point to another. I, for my part, charged with my holy club and writ destruction upon the fiends. It seemed that more goblins than I had known originally began to pour over the embankment. Nevertheless, my new associates and I were sending enough of the vermin to their abyssal home that those still alive began to hesitate. Others began to turn tail and run. Many more died. Eventually, a majority of the creatures lie expired around us while the three or four who escaped were fortunate to get away with some life left.
As we stood there viewing the slaughter, we looked at one another with some small amount of suspicion. I introduced myself: "Hail and well met," I said, "I am Aelfric of Hardby and I thank you." I proclaimed that I would be willing to provide my healing powers to them for their aid. It was obvious, however, that the Pelorian was quite able to deal with the wounds of his comrades as he was already performing these duties admirably with the power his lord of light granted.
I asked the Pelorian of the group's destination as I also was bound north. He informed me that the evil temple near Nulb, sacked many years ago, was what they sought and the village of Hommlet was a way-station on their expedition. I was delighted to learn of this as my objective was also Hommlet and the church of St. Cuthbert therein. They invited my to join them in their endeavor and I gladly
accepted as the Evil One was said to still have a hand in the current activities of the vile edifice.
So we were on our way. This gave me the opportunity to size up my newly found companions. The Pelorian was a gentle appearing man as is the proclivity of the clergy of Pelor. He seemed a proud fellow as he took a great deal of time to preen his raiment after the recent battle. He said his name was Sorin. The priest seemed unusually attached to a cat, a common house cat. During our trip to Hommlet he spent much time training the little feline. It seemed to me a great deal of time was wasted on this endeavor, yet the animal appeared amenable to the regimen. "To each man his own," goes the saying...
The mage appeared to prefer to keep to himself as he made no answer when I asked his name. Some might find this reaction rude, however; the teachings of St. Cuthbert tell us that those with closed lips hold the law dear. He appeared to be talented dweomercrafter, so I felt it best to hold my tongue at any rate. It is not uncommon to see those of Suloise descent evince of curmudgeonly disposition.
The elf seemed a pleasant enough sort. Unlike the Pelorian and most elves, for that matter, he seemed much less interested in his own personal appearance. Peculiarly, he approached me with hat doffed and a jig in his step, introducing himself as Elledan. He seemed to be free of the Olven accent. I deduced that he must have been brought up by human parents. I would place his common speak accent as being from one of the great cities of the Central Flanaess.
The Knight was named Branden and was part of the military arm of St. Cuthbert. His demeanor was easy-going and affable. I was certain that his charisma and presence formed the nucleus of the party.
So it was that I met some of the future members of the Moat House Men. We made our way north through the golden autumn twilight toward a land beset by an ineffable evil.

Aelfric's Journal: Beguilement and Breakout

When I opened my eyes I could see only gauzy red. My head felt as though it had been staved in two, the pain was so great. As I shook off the blurry haze and surveyed the scene before me a squat voice declared "prisste, use powers to giblini." The wavering, cloudy figure before me glared directly into my face. I began to make out the pock marked face and his bulging blood-shot eyes, smell the pungent breath. I had been tied securely to a stalagmite and my wrists and feet were bound as well. I was able to see a number of other goblins watching our interaction. A campfire burned in their midst and I could discern a small figure cowering underneath rotten deerskin.
It occurred to me, despite my rough treatment, that the wretched denizens wished for me to heal their companion's wounds! After a moment's pause I nodded, "Yes, yes of course," as it seemed an ideal opportunity to make my getaway. "I will need my gear - including my cudgel," I said. "It is my holy symbol and I'll need it to help your friend," hoping that the half-ruse would be enough to fool the little cretin. Pugnut (as I internally began to call him ) appeared to be going through pains to wrinkle his pimply forehead as the act of thinking brought great consternation to his puny mind. After a full minute of this he shouted something to his companions and they lowered their cow-pokers in my direction. A smaller sort of fellow approached and began to loosen my bindings. Pugnut watched anxiously as I stretched and rubbed my wrists. The little one brought me my gear and cudgel while some of the motley band prodded me toward the huddled figure.
As I approached the rasping form I began preparing the compounds to make my cudgel something more dangerous than just a humble club. My plans were to bash in the heads of these unbelievers, these adherents of chaos, these ravaging brigands! these... And then I saw it; a tail, wagging, from underneath the dirty skins. The figure looked up at me with the eyes of something akin to pure innocence. "Must heeeel!" Said Pugnut. I was torn between breaking and running or kneeling to give comfort to the fallen creature. In short order my mind was made up by a strange sight: a cloven hoof. A portion of the skins had fallen away to reveal what was unmistakably the be-furred leg of a goat.

I turned on Pugnut and shouted with the power of the Cudgel - "Die!" I leaped over the now limp form of the goblin chief, getting nicked by one of the pot-stickers along the way. I rushed in the direction of what I hoped was the opening of the cave with as much speed as St. Cuthbert could bestow upon a humble servant. My feet were luckily unhindered by the rocks and hidden obstacles which frequent such lairs. I could see the light of grey morning and the autumnal leaves of  bronzewoods draped over the cave's toothy maw. My longer legs were outrunning the short strides of the humanoids, but I could hear them just within earshot. As I rushed out of the unholy grotto I could feel the whiff of a spear just over my left ear. The bandits were following with gusto.
The chase continued for a good deal of time. I ran like my brothers taught me in the streets of the Old Town. I thought of those days. "Grab the uskfruit and run zigzaggy-like," Fanny said. "Take the side streets," he said in my mindseye, as I jumped into a small gully. I could see that the forest was beginning to thin as I approached an embankment. The fiends were following closely. I gave it all I had and scrambled over the embankment with a last gasp. I came tumbling down the other side and into the presence of what might well have been more trouble.

Aelfric's Journal: Deep Guano

I am Aelfric of Hardby, Acolyte in the Order of the Holy Chapeaux of the Church of St. Cuthbert. I shall testify of the travels of the group who have come to be known as the Moat House Men. Whether this moniker was bestowed by the good folk of the central Flanaess or by the adventurers themselves is a subject best left for scholarly speculation. Some have named them heroes, while others would tempt the gods with a villainous accusation. It is nevertheless a tale of weal and woe, as is the tendency of all good stories
It all started with a lowly fruit bat, a creature of dark tidings. One day in the late autumn light I was chasing down a much needed ingredient to a number of my orisons. Guano, as any good Chapeaux or naturalist knows, is found on the dank floor of a cave. I had been tracking (as such) one of the winged rodents through the early evening in a particularly unpleasant region of the Gnarley Forest when I happened upon it's batty lair. My obsession was such that the bones and bits of hair outside the maw and throughout the cavern failed to grasp my notice. Only the sharp point of a goblin pike roused me from my odorous ministrations.
"Wuntle prissste, turdish!" the imp at the other end of the poker squealed. I looked up from my feculent studies to find a band of eight or ten of the little buggers. It seemed that my harvest had come to an end and, indeed, my life in service to the god of the cudgel. A sharp sudden pain at the back of my head and darkness were the only things I recall from that moment.