When last the Adventure Company met, we’d tracked some suspicious Cult of the Dragon cultists to a warehouse in which, returning later, we found absolutely nothing suspicious. While in the warehouse, though, we did manage to sign ourselves up as guards to accompany possibly suspicious cargoes right out of Waterdeep to their final destination.
Nothing was going to stop us from finding out what those cultists were up to… and leaving Faerun struggling to survive with a lot fewer cultists, if we had any say in it. Psycho-Elf Zalandrin just doesn’t feel the day was worth living if nothing died during it.
Nothing was going to stop us, that is, but three weeks where someone was doing something else, or was tired, or… forgot… But we did have a quorum last night.
Zalandrin, elf ranger. Ellryn, gnome monk. Naivara, elf cleric (of “the Mushroom God”). And me, Tinda, gnome bard.
Having spent two months in real AND game time travelling in a caravan from Baldur’s Gate to Waterdeep, we weren’t really looking forward to another wagon ride north. Thankfully, the wagon drovers made us walk, instead. Probably shouldn’t have said anything. My Fythe-Bytte was totes racking up the steps, though.
The Mere of the Dead Men is not my favorite vacation resort destination. The road wound through an endless swamp, and the clinging ground fog made it difficult to spot danger from any distance. A runner had been sent out, and returned with word that our destination, a warehouse with an inn attached, lay not far ahead. And this time, there didn’t seem to be any annoying assassins or mushroom forests in the vicinity.
I walked blithely on (steppeth thee 1,042,915th! steppeth thee 1,042,916th!) as the rest of the party was alerted by subtle sounds and movement that an ambush awaited us ahead. Alerted by sounds, movement, and the DM putting our character icons on a battle map with clear ambush positions.
Since I was ignoring the bandits, the bandits kindly alerted me to their presence by sinking two crossbow bolts into me. “Hey!” exclaimed I, “free crossbow bolts!” “Ow!”
Ellryn split one way, Zalandrin the other. Naivara stayed with the wagons to aid both. And I…
Well, I cast my first effectual spell of the entire campaign thus far. When last we leveled, I shook up my songbook a bit. I’d been going heavy on RP spells that had precious little use in a fight. Most fights I’d just been doing with no song on my lips whatsoever. MAYBE a little vicious mockery.
Ellryn had taken down one of the three bandits on his side of the wagon train. I strummed a powerful chord on my Cittern and Shatter tore one of the bandits apart. The other was left hurt and deafened, an easy target for Ellryn to finish off.
We all joined Zalandrin on the other side of the wagons to finish the wetwork. Ambush done, seven shiny silver to split between us from the emaciated corpses. Banditry really wasn’t paying too well for these guys.
A couple more days uneventful travel (steppeth thee 1,230,748th!) brought us to the inn. The wagons were unloaded into the warehouse, with the boring stuff left in a common area, and the stuff we undoubtedly should be caring about locked securely in a separate room. We were given rooms on the upper floor. It would soon be time to get some answers to questions regarding the cultists and their mysterious cargo…
… in the next session.
Had a really fun time! I’ve gotten out of the habit of writing up our D&D sessions; I was just so pumped that we’re playing again!
