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Bastard Son of the great-grandchild of the sister's gibbon's friend of the nephew of the Campaign that Would Not Die, now in 3.75e
Møøse Trained By: Hugh Foster
Møøse Trained By: Hugh Foster
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Bastard Son of the great-grandchild of the sister's gibbon's friend of the nephew of the Campaign that Would Not Die, now in 3.75e Møøse Trained By: Hugh Foster |
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Cranston's Farm, Oakhurst, Northern Stryre, 29th September 2156
Reaching the farm, the party set to work fortifying in the same manner as last night. A perimeter was set up with twine tripwires connected to assorted tin cans and similar, selected for their different sounds so as to provide a directional alert. As Calvis laid these, Borax followed on camouflaging them so that they were difficult to spot even in daylight.
By happy chance, the sky was clear and both moons were nearly full, providing good visibility within the central farm area - out to the surrounding trees, anyway. Beyond that the peaceful sound of Cranston's cattle could be heard on the evening air.
The farmer, Tomar Cranston, and his family were instructed to barricade themselves into the windmill, and the Tanks plus the four willing to fight from the farm set up on the gently sloping roof with a rope to hand to reach the ground. A rope straight to the top might have seemed a weakness, but it occurred to Borax that skeletons were woefully equipped to climb ropes.
Holy Water was handed round, with Calvis making some more as twilight approached with his magic's renewal.
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Settled in with nothing to do but wait, the pair slid into the sort of conversation one has at this kind of time.
"Would a kobold fall faster from here than a cow?"
"If the kobold was inside the cow, would it be protected from the fall?"
"Would we hear it scream?"
"Certainly hear the cow scream if you rammed a kobold up it!"
Cranston's Farm, Oakhurst, Northern Stryre, 30th September 2156
Time crawled, and the watchers took turns to be on alert, though no-one really slept. Around 1am, a distinctive clatter from the south-east revealed that the alarm had been triggered, and that something was approaching. Rustles in the trees came from that direction.
Ruby, Borax, Tomar Cranston and his three farm-hands shinned down the rope, and set up position on the road at the base of the windmill to await developments. Borax angled away to the east, circling wide around the theoretical location of ... whatever ... to get in behind it. Calvis cast a Bless from atop the windmill but didn't get it off in time to include Borax.
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Some minutes passed, and then Borax realized he was closing in on something humanoid walking through the trees. Cautiously he moved into visual range. As expected, it was the skeleton of a human being, clad in rags of homespun clothing and clutching a shovel. Glancing sideways, he could see more, spread out into an arc as they moved onto the road and towards the defenders. Stealthily he moved along behind the line to the centre, warhammer ready for as stealthy an attack as he could manage. The expression "Silent Bludgeoning" crossed his mind.
Gripping the Hammer of Vengeance, he took a breath and struck out. The hammer crashed satisfyingly into the bony structure, sending splinters flying - and with a soft whoomph the head of the hammer exploded into flames, crisping the bones some more. Regarding this as a reasonable trade for stealth, the dwarf hefted the weapon to the ready once more, and battered his target to bits.
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Calvis and Meepo opened up with missiles from the roof, aware that crossbows wouldn't achieve much but out of range for anything else. Their bolts slithered through ribcages while knocking off the odd chip. Ruby and the farmers braced for the advance and attacked the oncoming undead, though the locals didn't achieve much. Jem the farmhand took one shot with his cherished bow, to the same result, and gulped as he changed to a stout club as the skeletons closed. The fact that the skeletons wore shreds of sometimes recognizable clothes, carried local impelements and in some cases had remnants of distinctive hair was not lost on the farmers, and they needed all the benefits of Calvis' Bless to keep their nerve. The ten remaining skeletons lunged to the attack; the three nearest Borax turned to attack him while the others converged on the main group. Scythes, spades, forks and hoes struck, and the spearman Civ went down instantly, his throat torn out. On the other side, Devlin struck a skeleton with the back of his axe and was mobbed, sliding to the road dying. Jem the bowman joined him a moment later, leaving just Ruby and Cranston facing the horde. Calvis slid down the rope and jogged over. "Still sure you don't want them turning?" he quipped grimly. "Only if I go down," growled the half-hob.
Borax continued to smash a flaming path through the skeletons, though they were dealing him repeated injuries as he did so. From above, Meepo switched to his standard and began to pepper the skeletons with Magic Missiles. Tomar Cranston, bitterly aware of how futile his martial aid really was, began to drag his downed kinfolk out of the fight as Borax and Ruby took more wounds. Calvis stepped between him and an oncoming skeleton and attacked it as the limp body of Devlin was dropped near him and Tomar headed off to salvage Jem. A Magic Missile blasted bits off the skeleton and Calvis nodded gratefully upwards.
Ruby and Borax were still fighting, but the dwarf was beginning to worry as his blood spread over more and more of his armour. He was isolated from the others, and knew if he tried something like disengaging or using his wand of Entangle, the undead would be all over him. A Magic Missile crashed into one of his foes; it helped, but not a great deal. As Calvis and Ruby fought on, Tomar reached the cleric with Jem's bleeding form.
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Finally, Borax downed the last of his three, and gulped a healing potion with desperate urgency. From behind he could hear more foes approaching,and he wasted no time in getting over to the others and forming a circle. A shrill scream from above announced Meepo hurling a Holy Water; somewhere. Nobody saw where it went, though they heard it shatter. With a groan, Farmer Cranston sank to the ground dying. And at that moment, three of the five original lizardman skeletons emerged from the trees.
"Damn," squeaked Meepo from above, "better way to do that. More Holy Water please?" Skeptically, Ruby and Borax laid some more jars on the ground for him, and watched as a Mage Hand scooped them up and into the air.
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While Ruby and Calvis fought the last remaining human skeletons, Borax wielded the wand and threw an Entangle onto the three herpiform skeletons. The trees and bushes went berserk, twisting and grasping at the tall skeletal forms, slowing them to various extents as they struggled onwards.
Calvis took a moment to stabilize Devlin and Tomar; Jem had already rallied on his own.
Unable to directly engage them, Borax took to picking up dropped clubs and skeleton weapons and hurling them, to some effect. A few seconds later, the Mage Hand was over the nearest and Meepo dropped one of the flasks. A simple vertical drop on a creature effectively tied to the ground was a much easier thing than a long throw from a roof, and the water splattered onto the monster, which thrashed as the stuff burned its' evil and unnatural form. Ruby followed up with a throw, hitting the same one. Borax swigged his last potion, then blinked as Calvis cast a healing on him from behind with his last spell. It seemed to work fairly poorly, but then the cleric of Chance invoked his Lady and reality shifted slightly - and Borax' wounds healed noticably more.
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This combination of thrown objects and dropped Holy Water seemed to work pretty well; until two more herpiforms stepped out of the bushes where they had emulated Borax and flanked around the Entangled area. Ruby intercepted one, realizing as she did so that it had been heading, not for her, but for the inert form of Civ Cranston. On the far side of the fight, the fifth one reached Tomar Cranston, stooped, and ripped his throat out, finishing him off. Borax hurled another club at it, and scored a hit [allegedly because with it bending down, he was higher!]. Meepo dropped his last Holy Water on the last entangled skeleton, destroying it, and let out a whoop of triumph.
Only one remained, standing over the farmer it had just wrenched out of life, and it occurred to Borax that it looked just a little bit ... bigger. Then he looked down at the corpse and swore; Cranston's body was melting horrifically. The truth of the other villagers' fates was writ large. Enraged, he took a run up and leaped over the tragic dissolving form and smote the skeleton beyond with all his might, smashing it to bits. AS he did this, the melting process seemed to stop, leaving Cranston's body static, though still hideous.
The quick and the dead were separated, and the remains of the undead and the dead humans loaded onto one of Cranston's farm carts and smartly trundled off into the woods, where a bonfire was started to reduce the lot to ash before the locals could emerge and object. Some more first aid had brought Devlin and Jem around, and Cranston's widow came up to the Tanks. Some people might have raged at them for not protecting her husband, but Maeve Cranston smiled through her tears and thanked them for saving everyone else. Her son Teran, all of twelve, stepped bravely forward with the mantle of Farmer Cranston settling on him and echoed these thanks in the name of the family in a rather trembly voice.
With watches set and tin-can-ninjas restored, the Tanks retired to bed and slept, fairly confident in their count of herp skeletons and transformed villagers.
Oakhurst, Northern Stryre, 30th September 2156
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The next morning, without doing anything to clean up, the pair set off for the village, a resounding breakfast safely stowed away inside. The walk was uneventful, and they reached the main street as people were cautiously emerging from their places of refuge for the new day.
Vurnor Leng was eating breakfast when they knocked at his door, and his valet, recovering splendidly from the appearance of two battle-stained non-humans on the doorstep, ushered them in. "Would you like tea?" he asked. "Beer," replied Ruby firmly. A tankard was produced on a tray (wood, not silver, Borax noted). He tapped the valet on the shoulder. "Where's mine?" he demanded. Without turning a hair, the man murmured, "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't hear what you said." A couple of minutes later he returned with three tankards, earning a rare Borax smile.
Leng eyed their blood-covered, still-wounded appearance. "So you found them?" he grunted, gesturing to a chair. The pair ran through an account of their night, and noted the genuine pain in Leng's eyes at the news of Tomar Cranston's death; grumpy, but a good man. "Then again," said Borax, "a rich widow!" Leng gave the sort of uncertain laugh Borax was used to by now, not totally sure if this was a joke or a completely tactless sally. With a word, he sent his valet to assemble their reward as agreed.
 DM Note: The initial scan of the books reveals the following. |
"We'll be staying for a while," said Ruby. "You are welcome to stay here as long as you like," said Leng, "and when word gets around I think you'll find this unanimous. I'll ask Corkie to provide whatever healing asssitance you may require." "We won't expect a bill," muttered Borax, still unimpressed with the gnome healer. "I'll ask Corkie to provide whatever healing asssitance you may require," Leng repeated with a small smile.
Back at the Ol' Boar, Caron was already up on events, and furnished hot baths, even changing the water for each of them. Borax was a bit lost in the bath, while Ruby overhung it a bit, but both felt better afterwards. Their thoughts began to turn to their haul of potentially useful books.
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Session Date: 20th April 2026 |
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