My dear, beloved readers.
I prostate myself at your feet for forgiveness.
I have been most thoughtless, lethargic, and negligent.
It has been almost two months since The Quarantine Questers have last played, and I am just *now* transcribing their adventures to paper.
I am a beslumbering, odious, hell-spawned toss-pot!
I shall endeavor to do better. For you, most special readers.
Fiona: Lightfoot Halfling Rogue (Jenny)
Thalia: High Elf Wizard (Kurt)
Gallan (Sidekick): Wood Elf Fighter (Kurt)
Ahfa: Human Paladin (Brent)
Zulu (Sidekick): Dwarf Cleric (Brent)
The party is well on their way to enjoying a pleasantly raucous evening at the Green Dragon Inn. Drinks are flowing, food is sizzling, and everyone is in a capital mood. There has been plenty to see and discuss so far, and the night is young. Shortly after the dinner meal is done, a burly, red-coated, bushy-bearded man greets Ricard jovially before turning his attention to our noble questers. He introduces himself as Captain Gallancz (the gentleman who received a cryptic little message from Tenser the Wizard only minutes ago) and explains that he is a retired military man who now spends his time exploring and adventuring. He takes particular interest in the party’s exploits up to this point in time, and also shares a fun little bit of lore with them in the form of poetry.
Zagig built the three
before he ascended to the skies.
One for magic,
one for battle,
one for his own device.
Great treasure, great secrets
are said to lurk below.
Great danger, great power –
only those who risk the delve will know.
Nine powerful demigods,
trapped by magical design.
All have escaped, save one.
Only the monk is left behind.
Tenser, Riggby, Robilar, Mordenkainen.
All casualties in the chase.
The omens speak of the Tyrant’s return
and the end of the mortal race.
Zulu rolls a Nat 20 on an Insight check on the Captain, which turns up a little apprehension. Without really being able to pinpoint why, the cleric senses something is off with the Captain. Maybe he was overly arrogant, too boisterous, who knows…but Zulu has a bad feeling about the super-friendly military Captain.
The noise inside the Green Dragon Inn is picking up, but not enough yet that Gallan can’t hear some kind of commotion outside the tavern. Moments later, the party’s new friend Claara from Clerkburg College bursts in. Upon seeing our brave champions, she pants out that her comrades are being harassed outside by thugs. Gallan, Ahfa, and Zulu stand at once and stride out of the pub.
And yep, Claara’s right. A group of young college men are in the middle of another group of much taller, bigger men wearing black pants and yellow sashes across their intimidatingly large chests. The thugs wield clubs and the college kids wield nothing, and the paladin is outraged at the injustice of the situation. Because he’s a paladin, he makes a half-hearted attempt to disperse the menacers (”Don’t make me angry, yada yada yada), but eventually, the three questers square off against the three meat-headed thugs.
The skirmish is well on its way to becoming a beatdown when Ahfa Blesses his fighting companions. Then, there is much swinging and wielding and zapping. Within minutes, the thugs back off and flee the fight.
Just as the City Watch officers roll up on the scene. Of course.
With the party’s account of the fight and eyewitness corroboration, the three champions are released and allowed to reenter the GDI. Claara, who’d been sitting with Fiona inside, is relieved to see everyone relatively intact. The three young Clerkburg men, flush with their escape from grievous injury and FRESH OUT OF GRATITUDE, waste no time getting a full stein of ale and seating themselves as close to the performance dais as possible. This prompts Gallan to mutter, “Typical kids.” Claara, however, remains with the party and answers their queries about the ruins of Greyhawk (Captain Gallancz is no longer in the vicinity for such interrogation). She tells them the ruins, especially the Tower of Magic, has been the source of many a fact and rumor amongst Greyhawk’s academia. Zagig’s disappearance created a power vacuum and many adventures, explorers, and wealthy privateers sought the power and secrets said to dwell in the tower’s depths.
The night progresses in the usual fashion. The Clerkburg college kids (minus Claara) have increased their drinking and are now becoming borderline unruly. They’ve began shouting and heckling, drawing many looks of consternation from the other patrons. This impels Ahfa the Paladin to speak with the bartender. No more drinks for the Clerkburg kids. And when one of the young men come for a refill, he is declined. Which, of course, inflames the youngsters. If they can’t drink, then they’ll get rowdier.
Finally, Ahfa joins their table and say, “You whippersnappers. Stay on the straight and narrow or I’ll talk to your principal.”
This seems to have the sobering effect it intended, as the young men soon depart and stumble on back home. Claara shoots the group a apologetically grateful look before heading out as well. Ahfa sends prayers up to the celestials for their safety on the walk home.
But…here’s the thing. Guess who bought the boys their first drink and set them down on that path to overindulgence? AHFA. The paladin. It is entirely speculation on this scribe’s part…but Ahfa may be the first Chaotic Good paladin in the history of Oerth. We will keep an eye on any further developments.
At any rate, the next step seems to be visiting the ruins of Castle Greyhawk. In addition to the promises illustrated in Capt. Gallancz’s lore poem, there’s also the matter of Ricard’s Blade of Chaos. The man did promise free drinks for life if anyone were to recover the beloved weapon for him.
Well, then.
Doubly devoted,
Your Scribe