Adventurers
- Alfredward (Dwarf 5)
- Koko (Cleric 5)
- Rarder (Fighter 5)
With their healer and front rank dwarf severely weakened, the party beat a quick retreat out of the manor and, after regrouping with their band of hired mercenaries, passed through the mist.
The sight that greeted them as they descended the mountain gave them pause. As they rounded a peak, they could see the normal blacks, browns and greys of the Deadwood flooding the land below them had been replaced with verdant green. The outline seemed off. When they reached the base of the mountain there even seemed to be an unfamiliar (admittedly poorly maintained) path leading in. And a timber fortification of some kind manned with armoured guards.
Fearing that they had somehow travelled through time, either forwards or backwards, the party found themselves a little cave for Koko to launch a major prayer fest. Healed but not rested, they then ascended once more into the mist in hope of finding some clue to their predicament.
Trying the eastern entrance to the manor, Alfredward warily scouted the entrance lobby. His trousers pooled around his ankles and cackles came from behind the array of chaise longues lining the walls. Impish faces poked from their hiding places. The dwarf pulled his trousers back up, put a finger to his lips and crept over to join them, indicating that there were more potential prank targets to come. Giggling, the creatures let him amongst their ranks. Rarder was the next one creeping in and with a cry of alarm, feeling a nasty itching sensation down his back and front, realised that every strand of hair had abandoned him from head to toe. With that Alfredward sliced apart the nearest gremlin and the rest of the party charged in. Several adventurers found their armour’s buckles unravelling and tumbling away, but otherwise they hacked the creatures down without any issue.
With their healer and front rank dwarf severely weakened, the party beat a quick retreat out of the manor and, after regrouping with their band of hired mercenaries, passed through the mist.
The sight that greeted them as they descended the mountain gave them pause. As they rounded a peak, they could see the normal blacks, browns and greys of the Deadwood flooding the land below them had been replaced with verdant green. The outline seemed off. When they reached the base of the mountain there even seemed to be an unfamiliar (admittedly poorly maintained) path leading in. And a timber fortification of some kind manned with armoured guards.
Fearing that they had somehow travelled through time, either forwards or backwards, the party found themselves a little cave for Koko to launch a major prayer fest. Healed but not rested, they then ascended once more into the mist in hope of finding some clue to their predicament.
Trying the eastern entrance to the manor, Alfredward warily scouted the entrance lobby. His trousers pooled around his ankles and cackles came from behind the array of chaise longues lining the walls. Impish faces poked from their hiding places. The dwarf pulled his trousers back up, put a finger to his lips and crept over to join them, indicating that there were more potential prank targets to come. Giggling, the creatures let him amongst their ranks. Rarder was the next one creeping in and with a cry of alarm, feeling a nasty itching sensation down his back and front, realised that every strand of hair had abandoned him from head to toe. With that Alfredward sliced apart the nearest gremlin and the rest of the party charged in. Several adventurers found their armour’s buckles unravelling and tumbling away, but otherwise they hacked the creatures down without any issue.