Gameplay Journal 23: Playing Assassins

Silent as a rogue, I watched my first target. He was loading boxes among other crewman, but the burning hand on his neck left no mistake. He had gotten out of sync with the others, and he paused to inspect a crate. I drew my blade, and struck from the shadows. The steel easily slid between ribs and stilled his heart.

I quickly searched him for anything valuable, then slid his body quietly beneath the waves. A score and four other spies were similarly slain, their corpses stripped of valuables and hidden where none would find them for days. 

On my way back to Chateau De Resistance, I heard a gnomish war cry coming from a half collapsed tavern. Peeking through the window, I saw Hawk and Obez finishing off the last few of what must have been a dozen men. I loosed two arrows hurriedly through the gaps in the rubble, and continued on my way. Everyone returned before the sun rose, more or less safe. We boasted of our kills and plunder, and drank till dawn.

Gameplay Journal 22: Meeting Resistance

An old dwarf sat down at our table, and asked if we were soldiers of Bane. "If only, then I could work my way up the ranks and slay him as his right hand!" I mused aloud. The dwarf found this amusing, and seemed to think we were trustworthy. He offered a 'safer' location where we could hide out. Down in the cellar of the inn, he opened a hatch in the floor. An underground tunnel connected us to a sort of Resistance HQ.

Being a small rundown room, the gnome went to work 'improving the building'. A day later he had finished his construction. A grand mansion stood behind the old inn, that now served as a mere entry way. Furnished with dorms, kitchen and mess hall, infirmary, and forge, Chateau de la Revolution was open for business. Suri and I repaired and modified any damaged weapons and armor we could find. The resistance was in the hands of prodigies as far as quarters and armaments were concerned. 

The next day we spent plotting and scouting. Three assignments were made available to us. Spies of Bane were running the docks, keeping tabs on all cargo. They either needed to be paid off, or slain. I quickly volunteered, eager to wean Bane's forces. Obez and Hawk were given orders to kill mercenaries and soldiers of Zhentarim, and leave the corpses as though they'd fought amongst themselves. Suri and Error-Del (still not sure how to pronounce that cleric elf's name), set off to end a lecherous governor and reclaim his unfair taxes.

Gameplay Journal 21: Hiding Out

Most of the group had cloaks that matched those of the Zhentarim. We also had a diamond of invisibility. The mage (who had been attacked by a doppelganger earlier) and I used a charge from the diamond, and made a beeline for the front gate. The others donned the cloaks and brazenly walked through the building.

I made it out without hassle. I followed my instincts that were telling me my wargs were nearby. I found them in makeshift cages at a slave market, surprisingly well behaved. I hid in an alley, whistled, and they easily broke loose from their bonds and chased after me. A couple turns later, we were at the Spouting Fish Inn (or was it Splashing Fish?). The barmaid was daft enough to tell me they had no fish or sake. With much disappointment, but more hunger, I ordered three steaks (two of them very rare). Rip and Snort deserved a treat for staying alive and near enough to find me.

Gameplay Journal 20: Jailbreak

He swung furiously, I rolled beneath it. I sprung up from behind the brute, wrapped the chain round his throat, and pulled it tight. His roar died with a gurgle as his crushed trachea denied his last breath. The keys now in my possession, I moved to release Hawk and the gnome. Hawk had trained a couple rats, and insisted I leave my chains with them to continue the clanging. The gnome had apparently had his own escape plan, and had tunneled into the walls. He surfaced behind the gong that had a large enough hammer for him to use as a weapon. I grabbed the guard's dagger, Hawk took his bludgeon, and we three went off to save the women.

Rounding the stairs, we heard two clangs, as the cleric slammed her chamber pot over their guards head, and used his bludgeon to fix it in place. Now armed with several weapons, misfitting armor, and two sets of keys, we set off in search of our effects

We were unable to find Panther-Man, but we did find our gear. It was guarded by a fat man. He seemed far more interested tallying the price for our goods, than guarding it. We burst through the door and sprang upon him. I had chains around his neck before he could set down his pen. We found his keys and a map in his desk, grabbed our gear, and planned our escape.

Gameplay Journal 19: ITS A TRAP!

They took the fighters a floor deeper than the magic users, truly the deepest part of the dungeon. We were placed in individual cells, spaced to where we couldn't see one another. In my cell was a cot for sleeping, a pot for pissing, and shackles around my wrists. The chain between was dangerously long; weaponizable, should the lone guard decide to enter my cell. I devised a plot to expedite that exact situation. I dragged my chamber pot near the end of my bed, at the back wall of my cell (don't want him to have time to change his mind if he does enter), and used my chain to gently CLANG the side of the pot.

After ten minutes of steady clanging, the guard walks over and rattles the gate. "Stop with all that banging!" I thought I might try my hand at a gentle approach. "I could bang this, or you could come in and give me something else to bang." With a grunt and a blush, he stomped off. I guess my feminine wiles are out of practice. Brute force mental warfare it is, and the clanging continued.

Ten minutes later, "give it a rrrest, me ears er splittin". I stopped; and one, and two, and three, and four, CLANG! started up again after a whole rest. The sound that was heard next was beyond speech, merely raw emotion. A guttural roar, filled with rage and frustration and murderous intent rose from the guard. Perfect. He rose from his seat, bludgeon in one hand, keys in the other. He unlocked my cell, and stepped forward into my web.

Gameplay Journal 18: "Fair" Trial

I awoke with a splitting headache, 70 meters up in the air, disarmed and bound. I wriggled to get in a more comfortable position, and was swiftly warned to "not try anything funny". I continued to survey the area and loosen the ropes that bound my cuffs to my shackles. Before I could escape seriously, we began our descent into the heavily guarded fortress of Scardale. We landed before a council of magi, obviously followers of Bane and other foul gods.

They escorted us to the commander who first singled out Air-o-dill (magic users and elves have a fancy for unspellable names), and ordered her unbound. He mocked her shouting "her god has no power here". I felt obliged to mock back "I managed to slay seven of your men, perhaps you are in need of a swordsmanship tutor?" "Throw them in the dungeons, make sure the smart-ass is in the deepest cell and left to rot. We can't have them acting up when Bane arrives." A grin spread across my face, trembling with anticipation and glee "Will he visit me? I await his arrival, teeth bared." "Away with them!" he barked, and into darkness we descended.

Gameplay Journal 17: Ambushed

We were gathering our thoughts around the fire that evening, everyone hoping for a little morale boost. The fire may have been a mistake. Three armed riders swooped in on pegasuses(pegasi, I dunno, plural forms of mythical beasts are not my strong suit). They threw a glass vial which burst into a cloud of noxious gas. Most of my allies fell immediately, Suri and the gnome forced them to land, but also fell unconscious. Hawk managed to call in a Sasquatch before he passed out, that thing had a wicked right hook, but he got spooked when more riders circled above. The cleric and I were the only two standing. I drew my swords, and my eyes glazed. If I was going to fulfill my duty as a ranger and protect my travelers, things would have to get messy.

The Cleric did what she could with a sword she picked off the ground, and even got a good strike through some damaged armor. It was evident that she had had some specialized training; however, it had clearly been years since she had practiced with a blade. Rip and Snort kept the third assassin busy while I battled the scythe wielder.

His scythe had been reduced to a staff as I guarded a particularly heavy blow, foreshadowing the owners soon-to come decapitation. He cast down the now ‘useless’ weapon, drew a dagger, and stabbed my leg. I could feel the burning of the poison on the blade, and readied my mind to delay its effects. I noticed the third assassin kick Snort as he attempted to regain his footing. I snapped, and began the “Hāto no joō no odori” (Dance of the Queen of Hearts). A twist of my stance, and a flick of both wrists separated two ugly heads from two ugly bodies. A quick leaping strike left our cleric dancing with a headless horseman.

Four more riders landed, too eager to avenge their fallen comrades. Eredil eventually fell to the sleeping poison that doused their blades. I continued my dance, battling to block out the blows the I could not dodge, and resisting the sweet slumber their poison offered. Four skulls fell into the pile as I relieved the world of their cowardice.

Thirteen more assailants circled overhead, and rained various poisons and nets upon me till I fell. I half-heard the captain, through a fevered dream, mumbling as he wrote his report, "seven highly trained, heavily armed assassins 'lost theirs heads' when combating a single woman."

I've never held hatred for creature before, but whoever sent these assassins has earned my favoritism.