steve@avsdS.UUCP (Steve Russell) (05/29/85)
******************for the mysterious line eater*************
(whom I have never met but everyone else sacrifices to it)
A while ago someone asked if anyone was interested is posting
a log of one of their games. In response to this the following
dramatization is submitted. This by the way was played over a
period of several weeks by our "two-lunch-a-week" play group
here at work and is based on one of TSR's (c) published modules
(Palace of the Silver Princess). It is long, but then I am verbose
(love to hear myself talk) and our play group tends to hit damn
near every room in the dungeon.
************************************************************
Chapter One
We approached the palace quietly.
As we had seen from afar, the palace was surrounded by
a ruby-colored glow. It extended from the walls of the
palace to a point some thirty oards distant. All plant-life
within that zone had withered and died. I had a feeling
that we would do no better within that crimson vale.
We paused not too near the edge of the glow. The gate
in the palace wall was open--waiting.
"This must be the place," I said, to no one in particu-
lar, and settled down on the withered grounds. I looked up
at my companions.
We were a sorry lot, we five. Two warriors, two sorcer-
ers, and a Holy man. And all of us apprentices.
Among us, Shadowfax was the eldest and most
experienced- most experienced apprentice, that is, and all
of seventeen years old. The rest were all about a year
younger, myself included.
I looked up at Shadowfax. He looked much older than his
years. I knew his companion, Delilah, but not as well. I had
seen her at play with the other girls before the choosing,
but that was at a time before I was interested in such
things. Now she had the same, faraway, look as Shadowfax.
He doesn't remember me, I thought. I didn't worry much
about it. We had all changed so much over the years. Indeed,
the events over the last two days would be enough to blot
out the memory of any sane man.
I considered this. Having a painfully acute memory of
recent events, I concluded we must all be insane. What other
excuse, I thought, would bring us here.
I looked over at Eric, my comrade-in-arms. I KNEW he
was insane. Always has been. Whenever something was amiss,
he was usually involved. That was one of the reasons I was
here; to look after Eric. I thought of the other two rea-
sons.
The master of my house, Donnel the Brave, had been a
guest of the Princess on the night of the great celebration;
as were most all of the leading members of our small princi-
pality. He was in the palace, feasting with the other high
lords and notables when the crisis struck Haven- the same
palace which now lay half ruined before us. He was in there,
somewhere, and Eric and I had come to fetch him safely home.
That was the second reason I was here.
The third was quite simple; we had been summoned.
Something crawled across my fingers.
A curse passed my lips as I jumped up and shook my hand
wildly. The furry devil was flung to the ground at my feet
where it met death beneath the heel of my boot.
To the amusement of my companions I muttered a single
word, ". .spider. .", and stood silently by Eric.
Things had not been going well lately, and with Haven
deteriorating rapidly, it seemed that more and more little
things were plotting to make my life miserable.
I thought of the Protectors and of the dream they had
the previous night woven around me. I had awoken from it,
sweating.
"Help us," they had cried in the dream, "Haven is in
dire trouble". That news was not new. A full day had passed
since the night of disaster. "Come to the palace at noon
and we will open the way for you. You will meet friends
there who will go with you. Find the evil in the palace,
destroy it, and Haven will be saved!" This plan was, to my
thinking, just a little too simplistic to be believed by
even a sixteen-year-old student-of-arms such as me.
I had just managed to return to sleep, convinced that
the dream was accidently misdirected towards me, when I had
heard several of the younger boys shouting. Wonderful, I
had thought. Short rations, little water, nightmares, and
now . . . . Fire!
Since my mother's death, nine years before, I had
developed a rather cynical, if not stoic, outlook upon life.
This, I had been told, would hold me in good stead as long
as I managed to retain some small sense of humor.
"Try to find the humor in life," my Master-at-Arms had
said.
While Eric and I hurriedly packed our meager belongings
that night, I had tried to think of something humorous. I
had finally thought of the black spider's nest beneath the
lower armory floor where I had been assigned to scrub upon
our arrival there, two years ago. That assignment had put
me on the sick list for two weeks due to a single spider
bite.
At that thought, my heel ground a little harder. I
hated spiders.
Stone and masonry do not burn but wood does. Even wood
such as that on the lower armory floor. In the midst of the
conflagration I had managed to find a chuckle that night.
Meric looked not much changed since attainment of Aco-
lyte. He still resembled his brother Eric, but his
Patriarch, Elitho, had not stressed physical training as had
Donnel. Eric, and I too for that matter, had gained weight
and muscle in the house of Donnel.
Eric and I stood together, looking out over the ruby
haze. He noted a lizard scuttle across the ground towards
the glow. It passed within about a foot, seemed to think
better of it, and turned to come out. The glow brightened
about it for a moment and it was suddenly still. Very
still. . . and I did not think it was resting. Eric looked
at me.
"Well, my friends," I began, "it would . . seem . .
that . . ."
My voice trailed away as, from the open gate to the
edge of the dead zone, the ruby glow was slowly wavering . .
. changing. In but a few moments a path more than twenty
feet wide, all the way to that inviting entrance, had
cleared.
"We are expected," Eric said brightly.
I was sure he did not stop to think WHO might possibly
be expecting us.
Evidently he did not as, with a smile to the others, he
strode out for the gate. I stopped him at the edge of the
path. To our left and our right we could see into the sides
of the glow. It was solid. The path before us was clear,
however, and as Shadowfax and the others caught up with us,
Eric again stepped to the fore with Shadowfax a step behind.
With the others coming up behind me I had no other out
but to continue.
"What if . . ," I began, in a whisper to Shadowfax.
"The Protectors are holding it," he said, equally sub-
dued, "but let us not be tardy, lest they weaken . . ."
I had not thought of that. Neither had Eric.
We passed those fiery walls at a trot that was just
short of a run. Blade drawn, Eric reached the gate first
and stepped inside. I followed suit. As I passed the portal
a tingle chilled my spine. For no reason, I looked down and
saw the barest shadow, a thin line, strung only inches above
the ground from one side of the gate to the other. Holding
out my shield arm I gestured to the wire with my sword.
Shadowfax nodded and stepped gingerly over the trip
wire. I turned my back and scanned the interior of the
courtyard. So far, so . . .
A grunt behind me told me it suddenly wasn't so good. A
sharp clang against the gate post to my right told me it
could have been worse.
I turned to see Shadowfax helping Meric back to his
feet. Eric rushed up, concern written on his face. Though
they had not been as close since the choosing, these broth-
ers still shared the love I had missed these past nine
years. Eric stooped to retrieve Meric's Holy Symbol. I won-
dered if the Holy Symbol had protected him from the trap or
if he was just exceedingly lucky. The iron cross-bow bolt
lay bent by the side of the gate.
"Well," said Meric, "at least it didn't close the
gate."
Shadowfax grinned. Delilah merely rolled her eyes and
walked away. I had the distinct impression that she had lit-
tle faith in those who relied on the whim of some god who
may or may not be around when you needed him.
We all turned to investigate the courtyard.
It was bare . . . lifeless . . . altogether a dreary
place. About forty-feet square, the courtyard contained two
doors, one on either side of the gate, and two portcullis'
on either side of the back wall. Eric and I slowly circled
the courtyard while the others gave closer examination to
the four portals. As I passed each portcullis, a dank draft
wisped about me. Glancing first at one set of iron bars,
then the other, it seemed the prudent thing to do would be
to try one of the wooden doors. After a short conference,
Eric opted to try the door to the left.
Eric moved the latch slowly and tugged on the door. It
rattled solidly but didn't budge. I stepped alongside him
and with both our weights we yanked on the lever. For a
moment it held, then suddenly swung fully open to reveal-a
RAT! Not a particularly small one, either.
About four feet long or more and apparently much put
out about having its slumber disturbed, it darted its neck
out and tried to nip me! Not for nothing had I earned the
nick-name, Nimrod-the-Nimble. I danced back quickly and
swung futilely at the repugnant rodent. As my sword failed
to find it's mark, Eric flashed his blade 'twixt the
creature and me and landed a blow. It's attention drawn
elsewhere, I tried another swing but the movement caught the
monster's eye for it darted back into its den. Never one to
be left behind, Eric pursued the matter as a true warrior
and before I could poise to strike, he dispatched the beast
quite nicely.
"Now we are even," he grinned, as he stooped to wipe
his blade on the fur of the dead animal. At my questioning
look he continued innocently, "Now we have BOTH made our
first kill of the day." My face burned lightly. From
another, that slight sting might have welled-up and caused
an outbreak of fury. But it was Eric who had found me that
day in the lower armory . And it was Eric who had stayed by
my side for three days while I thrashed in my fever. He was
the closest thing to family I had left. He was
forgiven...again.
The rest of the party entered the room and surveyed its
contents, or rather, its lack of. Four bare stone walls,
stone ceiling and floor, rat-litter in one corner and noth-
ing else save a lever midway up the north wall. Upon closer
examination a single letter "A" was found engraved in the
stone above the lever.
Discussion raged over whether to raise the lever or
not. On the one hand it could very well be our undoing, on
the other, we wouldn't know what it did if we didn't. See-
ing no other way out, the decision was made. Eric (of
course) volunteered to raise the lever and we all went to
keep watch by the door. As his hand touched the shaft, I
heard an anguished moan behind me and turned to look.
Sometime during the fight, the main gate had silently
lowered and locked us, quite securely, within the courtyard.
The red haze which had been clear of the path now encom-
passed it up to the bars of the gate. It would seem that
either our un-seen helper had finally tired; or our un-seen
host had just invited us to stay. With nothing more to
lose, Eric raised the lever.
Silence.
I looked from the courtyard into the room and back.
Nothing.
Two more times--raised and lowered. Still nothing. An
unkind thought passed my mind towards the builders of the
palace. We all filed out. I propped the door open while we
deliberated on our next step.
"Well," Shadowfax murmured, looking across the court-
yard, "there IS another door over THERE."
"True enough," I said, and added lightly, "And I
haven't killed MY rat for today."
Eric chuckled and graciously offered to open the door
for me, that I would be ready this time. It sounded fair of
him and I told him as much. I also promised that if there
were more than one, I would save it for him; thus we would
go, each of us taking turns so as not to exhaust the other
and thus would our enemies fall before us! I prepared
myself, shield and blade, and as he opened the door I leaped
inside, a figure of fury!
As my eyes scanned the room I found my target, or
rather two targets, in the far corner - and each was holding
steel! What luck! Here I was on solid ground with an enemy I
could relate to! Skinny ones, too! Why, I must have at least
a hundred pounds over the both of them; combined! True to my
word I called out in a merry voice, "Eric, come look.
There's one here for you, too!"
His head in the doorway, he studied the situation. The
enemy approached warily. After a few moments I glanced at
Eric. Instead of entering, he merely nodded towards the pair
and asked, "How do you propose to kill them - again?"
Again?
I took a closer look at our approaching foe. I had
heard of such things before. The tales told in the tavern
where my dear mother had worked had held me rapt, long into
the night. Stories so chilling - yet exciting. One never
knew if they could be believed. I was suddenly a believer.
The emaciated gate-keepers were beyond saving by any
feast on this earth. Their yellow-white starkness became
more apparent as they approached the door. Eye-sockets,
empty (save for a dull-red glow), stared blindly at us as
they neared, weapons at the guard, bone-white fingers
wrapped around their hilts.
"Uh . . .," I still pondered Eric's question, "I'm open
to suggestion," I said, hopefully.
Hearing none, though doubtful of the outcome, I
prepared to strike. Before taking a step, however, I heard
Meric's voice behind me.
"Move over," he said, "and let me try something."
Not having any good ideas of my own, it seemed like a
reasonable request and, if whatever he thought he was going
to do failed, there would then be three of us in the room. I
gave quick thought to the mace that Meric wore at his side.
Yes. That would seem to be the ideal weapon for this sort of
encounter.
Meric sidled past me, chanting quiet passages to his
God, right arm held high before him. Not too bright, I
thought. I should think that even an apprenticed Cleric
would understand that a full-swing would give his weapon
much more . . .
I looked up again at Meric's right arm.
Meric did not have his mace in his right hand. Meric's
mace was in his left hand, said hand still by his side. In
his right he wielded . . . HIS HOLY SYMBOL!!!
WONDERFUL!!, I thought savagely to myself. Meric has
picked this time to go fraggy on us!!! I readied myself as
Meric advanced fearlessly; right arm held high, chanting
constantly.
The skeletons seemed to look at him quizzically, and
then, to my complete amazement, they slowly backed away to
the far corner of the room. This was delightful! Meric had
just jumped up several notches on my scale. I started over
to wreak havoc upon them but Meric bid me stop.
"Leave them," he said, "Search the room. I don't know
how long I can hold them like this."
I considered this quickly. This too, sounded quite rea-
sonable. After a furtive glance at the corner, I continued
my search. Between Eric and I, and then Shadowfax, it was
confirmed. The room was as the other, save for the tenants.
A matching lever on the north wall; nothing more. No, not
quite. This lever had the letter "B" inscribed by it.
Ah! This was more like it, I thought! At this rate,
with a little over two-dozen more rooms and levers, we could
have enough letters to spell nearly any word--in perhaps one
or two weeks. I kept this tid-bit of information to myself.
Shadowfax appeared deep in thought; then he looked at
me. Some thoughts aren't that deep.
"All right," I sighed, "take a look outside and see
what doesn't happen this time." He nodded in reply.
This better do something, I thought as I gripped the
smooth, wooden handle. I glanced at Meric over by the
corner with his new-found friends. With Eric at the ready, I
pulled the lever down and listened intently.
Silence . . .
Twice more I moved it. Nothing.
"Did ANYTHING happen, 'Fax?," I asked, exasperated.
Turning in the doorway, he looked at me, somewhat puz-
zled. He frowned for a moment. Before I could say anything
the frown ceased, replaced by a smile, as he remembered the
skinny youth who was, nine years before, new to the
orphanage.
He started to speak, then his face brightened.
"Eric, to the other room," he said, excitedly, "Lets
try both the levers."
Eric looked at Meric, then at me. I nodded. With his
brother being looked after, he ran to the other room and
grabbed the lever.
"A moment," cried Shadowfax who turned to speak to
Delilah. They both went into the silences; mouthing empty
words, fingers gesturing quickly.
Shadowfax raised and lowered his arm and Eric and I
worked the levers.
This time I could feel the sound coming through the
stone walls. It had worked! I was suddenly very glad that
Shadowfax had responded to the dream. I felt that we had a
more than meager chance for survival now.
Eric rushed out to the courtyard. "The portcullis' are
opening!," he shouted. "Come on, Nimrod!," he continued,
"and don't forget Meric!" This last a gleeful laugh.
I looked to the Holy Man. "Time to go," I said, and
added, "What about them?"
"They'll stay there until I leave the room. Once the
door is closed, they will not follow," he explained. He
began to back away slowly. His play-mates did not budge. I
asked him how he had driven them back from us. Looking to
me, he smiled.
"It is my Divine Grace," he said, smugly. And promptly
tripped on his robe.
Minus points for Meric added up quickly as the un-dead
creatures, no longer under his control, rose to the occa-
sion. I felt my heart race as their permanently-grinning
faces grew closer.
Scrambling wildly to his feet, Meric once again held
out his Holy Symbol but it wasn't working this time! Looking
quickly to his hand he swore, and turned the symbol right
side up.
This time his bony companions respected his wishes and
shuffled back to the corner. I could swear they were trying
to keep from laughing . . .if they had anything to laugh
with. I was trying hard to remember that this was Eric's
beloved brother.
I helped Meric by remaining silent. I also held him by
his belt, until we were clear of the doorway and the door
was closed. Listening at the door I heard no sounds of pur-
suit.
I gave Meric a stony look, and turned.
". . . Divine Grace . . .," I muttered, as I walked
towards the rest of the party.
Chapter Two
The passageway was dark.
Eric, of course, had taken the lead, pausing only long
enough to let Meric set light to a torch.
We had entered the right-hand opening in the courtyard,
which had turned immediately to the right and continued
beyond the range of the torch-light.
Eric was followed closely by Meric, Delilah, Shadowfax,
and then myself. This last was not of cowardice. Donnel had
beaten it into us early that the fighter who fails to be
aware of his rear--often loses it. Donnel also instructed us
never to get separated from the party. I could foresee dif-
ficulty in this with respect to Eric. Eric was, after all,
quite crazy.
We proceeded slowly, very slowly, while Grace and
Insanity inspected carefully every foot of the pathway-
above, below, and to the sides.
Shadowfax dropped back a pace to walk at my left side.
"Come back to haunt me, did you?," he asked with a
smile.
"You taught me to speak," I said simply. As an after
thought I added, "Picked up a problem with spiders, though."
He chuckled.
We walked along together, silently.
I thought of the past, some nine years before, when a
sullen young boy entered the orphanage; a youth angry at the
world. He had lost his only family, his mother, to an
accident and had withdrawn into himself. He would not talk,
but would sit by himself and stare into his memories until
his eyes flooded with tears. Then the fury would come and he
would lash about wildly so that none would come near--none
save for Shadowfax.
For three months, the elder boy had tried to bring out
that quiet youth, in the course of which time he got his
name un-ceremoniously shortened by two syllables. In four
months, the shell was cracking. By five, the younger was
chatting away merrily; where ever Shadowfax tried to hide,
his second shadow was either there before him or right
behind. All was proceeding nicely until, at the end of the
sixth month, the unheard of had happened; Shadowfax had been
apprenticed to Mergannon the Sorcerer--more than six years
early!
After his friend left, the boy had again withdrawn, but
this time the anger was replaced by the cynics cast. It had
stayed.
The party stopped.
We had come about eighty feet along the passageway when
Eric came to a turn. It continued off the the left, still
in darkness.
Peering carefully around the corner, Eric whispered
back, "There's a door up ahead."
I moved up quietly to look around Meric's shoulder and
saw what I had seen before--about thirty feet of torch-lit
space with nothing but blackness beyond. I could see the
burned out sconces along the walls. Someone had failed to
change them during the last two days. I wondered if the
current residents of the palace needed light to see by.
I saw the door up ahead to the left. Looking closely at
Eric's face, I could see the gleam in his eyes.
We moved our small band of adventurers up to the door
with Eric and I on either side of it. We were all quiet.
Eric listened at the wooden portal and heard nothing. I
listened as well and heard nothing.
"Nimrod," he whispered, "it's my turn, isn't it?"
I could see the tremor in his muscular frame; not from
fear (he had none), but from the excitement! Yes, Eric was
quite mad.
I nodded. We don't really have to go in there, I
thought, as I grasped the latch.
Shadowfax and Delilah stood close behind, deep into the
silences again as Eric poised at the ready.
I pressed on the latch, pulled, and was rewarded with a
hollow rattle. The door held fast.
With a disgusted sigh, Eric grabbed hold and added his
weight to the effort. The door swung open stiffly and Eric
entered. Meric followed behind.
From what I could see from the doorway the room was
very large. As Meric positioned himself near the center of
the room I could pick out its contents dimly. Paper littered
the floor in patches and I could see the outlines of toppled
chairs and tables over towards the left wall, some fifteen
feet away.
I entered and moved about slowly. I drew near the
tables, close by the wall, as Meric cast the light of the
torch about. Shadowfax and Delilah stayed near the doorway,
one keeping an eye on the corridor, the other keeping watch
over us.
"It looks clear," I said, turning.
A sharp gasp from Eric spun me around. He had walked
between two of the fallen tables and seen what had been hid-
den from us all; three hairy-bodied, human-like creatures,
evil eyes gleaming from dog-like faces! They had heard my
half-hearted attempt at the door and with swords ready, hid-
den themselves, waiting for us to enter!
"Behind you!," I cried, as I spied two more of the
beasts raising from the table behind him. Eric whirled
swiftly, more so than I had ever seen him do in training,
and narrowly missed the closest of the enemy to his rear.
The two decided to leave Eric to their three companions and
moved away around the back of the table. Eric returned his
attention to the front none too soon as two of the three
were nearly on him. I engaged the third as Eric neatly
lopped off the head of one of his antagonists.
I missed the chance to do the same with mine as it
darted back from my blade. I gave a thought to the two cir-
cling about somewhere. Meric had his mace and the wizards
had their magic. I hoped it would be enough until Eric and I
were through.
I took a blow on my shield as I saw the shadows waver.
The light didn't go out so I knew that Meric was still on
his feet.
I parried a wicked slice from dog-face and heard the
sound of two bodies thudding to the ground behind me. I
couldn't look but Eric was momentarily free and did so. I
saw an amazed look on his face and that manical gleam came
back to his eyes.
With a final "HAH!", he ran his opponent through and
stood there, laughing.
Twice now in the last ten seconds my own partner had
shown me a terribly weak spot in his guard. I corrected his
mistake--permanently.
Free now, I turned to see what had so amused Eric.
There, standing over the bloody bodies of two kobolds,
was Meric--looking for all the world like he was trying hard
to stay awake! All the while he was wiping off the ball of
his mace, his face was distorted by the rictus of the most
outlandish yawns I had ever seen! For all this, he had not a
scratch on him.
I heard a chuckle and looked to see Shadowfax, smiling
as if at some private joke.
I stood confused for several moments, then it finally
occurred to me. Either Shadowfax or Delilah had thrown a
sleep spell at the kobolds and Meric had caught the veriest
edge of it. Meric had merely to bash in the brains of the
sleeping monsters to end their menace.
Circling once again, Eric and I checked out the room--
more carefully this time. We found no more surprises.
Delilah was listening intently at the corridor for
sounds of someone showing interest in joining our party.
Hearing none, she closed the door and, with a nod from Sha-
dowfax, spiked the door against intrusion.
I suddenly felt very tired.
* * *
This was written in a frenzy of ambition before I realized how un-unique
this all was and that there are probably thousands of poor hacks like
myself who would never otherwise get published *but* there is the net...
The event-calendar continues for several game-days (this was the
first D&D adventure for all of us save the DM) and eventually
the puzzle is solved. If anyone out there would like to hear the end
of it, that should be reason enough to finish-up transcribing and
elaborating from the tapes (Tapes--you say? How else to remember the
play-by-play. Of course, video would have been better) and besides, we're
between projects anyway.
An interesting side note, I've just started this same module over again
with a new play-group (totally new people) playing a thief (instead of
a fighter) and despite having pre-knowledge of the senario (mind like
a steel trap--rusted shut) the play is still new, exciting, and entirely
delightful (and I can get my giggles watching these other new players
fumble around the same tricks and traps that fouled up my first party).
Party member: "Oh thief, could you please check out this here chest?"
Me: "Why sure!!!"
DM: roll...roll...roll..."You don't think there are any traps"
Me: "Hey, it looks ok by me!" and step WAAAAAAAYYYYY back....
steve avsdS:steve
AMPEX
"We don't make many of anything around here--that's why we charge so much....."steve@avsdS.UUCP (Steve Russell) (05/31/85)
> Circling once again, Eric and I checked out the room-- > more carefully this time. We found no more surprises. > > Delilah was listening intently at the corridor for > sounds of someone showing interest in joining our party. > Hearing none, she closed the door and, with a nod from Sha- > dowfax, spiked the door against intrusion. > > I suddenly felt very tired. > * * * follow-up to my own message? (what GALL!!!) Actually, just wanted to say that this is what happens when you watch your wife's time-shifted soap opera........ steve avsdS:steve AMPEX "We don't make many of anything around here--that's why we charge so much...."