Game #3: The Pitter-Patter of Looting Hands

This adventuring gig came along at the perfect time, as running short cons in a small village is a losing proposition. I joined up with my buddy Ivan the fortune-card reader and Takeshi the soldier. I regret even getting to know their names, as Ivan died horribly after a hell-jackal ripped out his throat on the banks of Big Lake while Takeshi was eviscerated by The Hound that haunts Hirot. The only reason I'm alive is luck and the direct intervention of our  Wolf-Mother cleric, Varg!. Probably I owe him more than just a beer.

After our unexpected success fighting The Hound (Kain is a stone-cold killer, do not mess with Kain) we made it back to Hirot. Quickly spotting my kind of people busy gambling, I joined the game and promptly quadrupled my money. It was a good sign.

After some discussion we decided to visit the supposed Witch who lives near the Jarl's hall. Imagine our surprise when it turned out to be a REAL WITCH, I'm not even joking. She talked to us IN OUR HEADS and her modest hut was enormous on the inside.

The Good: she didn't turn us into scarecrows or set us on fire.

The Bad: although she told us we needed to bind the Beast using a net woven from the hair of dead men, and offered to do that for us...Varg! turned down her marriage proposal.  So if this all goes south, it's kind of on him.

After more discussion we set off for Ulfhenor’s Tomb. Joining us were Varg!'s new converts Llore' the Bard, Broegan the Innkeeper and  his daughter Valatress.  Dag the hunter's son was our guide.

Initially all went well, we found the tomb and suspected it was warded by the creeks, streams, and rivulets that surrounded it. I went to check it out...and soon my mind was far away, mesmerized by the water itself. I might have died like that, staring at the water, but Kain pushed me out of the way and broke the spell.  Unfortunately this put him in danger, as a large serpent made entirely of water rose up and demanded to know what gift we'd brought for him.  When nothing was offered, he engulfed the dwarf with no warning.

Sensing the need for quick action, and showing great mental alacrity, Varg! summoned an animal--a  sheep. Moira flew into action, dwarfhandling the sheep like she owned it and rushing Kain with her shield. Kain was thrown clear with a few bruises and the sheep was left in the Water-Naga to drown. Finally understanding, I yelled out, "Take this gift! Accept this sacrifice!" and IT WORKED.  The sheep was accepted and engulfed, and we were free to pass.

The dwarves moved the massive stone seal out of the opening, and we entered the gloomy tomb. Moving down the hall we stopped upon reaching a depression with slick, angled sides leading into a pool of dark water.  How to get across?  Suddenly we were under attack! The Jarl had sent a squad of archers after us, and they were firing into the hall. They were accurate, and our party began to fall at a rapid pace. Bartimus went down and Varg! went to bind his wounds; Oro fell and I ran up to stop her bleeding and use her body as cover. Broegan died as well as Llore' and Dag! The floor was slick with blood before the dwarves took a huge gamble and hacked at the ceiling to cause a small cave-in, blocking the archers but promising a fun digging  time for us when it was time to leave.

We took a breath of relief...only to have our nostrils filled with the stench of rot and decay!  A hideous undead creature, that I thought lived only in the bedtime stories my gang boss used to tell me, had risen up from the pit and dragged itself to Valatress.  I had a moment of warning from Oro who saw or sensed the  creature, but Valatress did not, and he twisted her head around making an awful, wet cracking noise. Kain, Moira and myself surrounded the creature and attacked, but all might have been lost if Paug had not emerged from the deep shadows to fire a dart from his blowgun.  The dart moved at both impossible speed and slow motion, captivating us all, until it crashed into the skull of the creature, wrecking its skull and blowing out the front of the face in a thick yellow spray.

I was partially in shock, thinking it could not get any worse and wishing I was trying to con Old Man Jenkins for the  fifth time back in Townsville, when A HIDEOUS SERPENT EMERGED FROM THE BODY OF THE UNDEAD CREATURE!   Surely my eyes must have bulged out like the crotch of my padded armor.  Again we surrounded this new foe and laid into it mightily.  Varg! frightened the hell out of us by suddenly booming out "LEAVE!" in a voice normally  reserved for gods. The serpent attempted to leave out the sealed exit, and Oro killed it dead.

THEN, finally, it was time to relax. We broke open some ale, fired up some pipeweed and gathered up the  treasure...which consisted of looting our dead acquaintances as well as the undead/serpent creature. This was most relaxing and enjoyable, and made everything worthwhile.

I was reminded again of some things my old  gang boss used to say:

"Loot 'em if you got 'em."

"A Looted Body in hand is worth 2 in the bush."

"They will be missed.  Now loot them."