BARLOX BLUES Report
General Summary
"Just be careful...OK" , Freya urged Django.
"No worries, I turn into a bird do a little reconassaince. Easy peasy."
And with that Django used his newly acquired shapechanging ability to turn into the bird and flew out the open window.
The group had questioned the wisodm of the young halfling druid flying off all by himself.
Pejab who retired himself to the corner of the Grapeshots largest guest room sat in consternation as he oiled his axe. His concern about someone going solo being waved away by Django (not the first time the two were in disagreement over matters which might effect the group).
Then all of a sudden a sand filled leather ball bounce off his head. One of Bruce's stunner bullets for his sling. Freya began to smirk.
The newest addition to the Helix Heroes, had an obsession with playing a game called "hackey sack". Apperently popular in Elmshire, the name coming from some far off place (some say world).
He had introduced it to Den Withertongue who prided himself as being the most dexterious of the group, but this little halfling sure was giving him a run for his money.
Freyas smirk became a giggle, effecting her meditation slightly. Unlike, Django or Yvaine (who recieceved their power from other wordly beings) her magic was the result of great practice and focus. Daily meditation helped her hone her spells.
"Hold still ya big oaf" Yvaine blurted out. She was tending to Mukuns wounds sustained from the battle with the Auhitzol the night before. The muscular orc could barely perch his massive frame upon the tiny stool provided by the inn.
"Sorry."
"So, we take out the undead. Go to the Muslich boys funeral. Then lunch?"
"How did Django say? Easy.....Sleazy."
"Ha...ha...hahahahaa" Despite her best effort to maintain focus and knowing she would have to start over, Frey couldn't help herself. She was not alone; in fact starting cacophonous chain reaction of laughter throughout the room (enough to wake other guests of the inn).
Mukun was from the Pomarj where common tongue well wasn't that common. He quite often picked the wrong words (like now) to comedic effect.
"Oh, what are we going to do with you Mukun." Yvain sighed.
"Well, I don't know about you lot but I'm gonna try and squeeze in a little more sleep before I try meditating again." Freya chimed.
As her eyes closed, all went black and peaceful. After an indeterminite time she was shakened by the sound of pure panic.
"No.no..no...noooo" Yvains voice surrounding the still closed eyed Freya.
The sorcerous shook her head and opened her eyes. As they adjusted to the dimly lit basement of the Smeddling Winery, she knew this was no dream. She must have suffered from shock. Her mother Irja once described how trauma could make one hallucinate or zone out.
Still struggling to regain her senses, she finally snapped to clarity by the scream of Den. "Go let Django know. He should be back at the inn by now! Go!!!!"
Freya without question bolted up the stairs and into the stained glassed ground floor of the winery. Not taking a second to glance back. She knew time was of the essence.
Meanwhile, standing back-to-back Den and Pejab scanned the basement. If there were more incorporeal undead down here they could appear through anything. Bruce being directed to take Freya's place in applying pressure to one of Mukuns many wounds.
The scared halfling looked up and queeried "What do we do now?"
Den Withertongue replied "We regroup and recalibrate. Right Pejab?"
Nothing but silence from his comrade who litterally had his back. The elvish rogue didn't need to face his comrade to know why Pejab didn't reply.
Uncharacteristically, Pejab had lowered his weapon his face tilted towards his fallen comrade. In his short life Pejab had seen his fair share of death. He knew a fatal wound when he saw one. Neither Yvaines or Djangos magic could save the orc now.
As a single tear fell from the Dwarfs eye, he replied "Yes. We regroup. Recalibrate. And we coma back and make sure that son of bitch never rises from his grave again."
"No worries, I turn into a bird do a little reconassaince. Easy peasy."
And with that Django used his newly acquired shapechanging ability to turn into the bird and flew out the open window.
The group had questioned the wisodm of the young halfling druid flying off all by himself.
Pejab who retired himself to the corner of the Grapeshots largest guest room sat in consternation as he oiled his axe. His concern about someone going solo being waved away by Django (not the first time the two were in disagreement over matters which might effect the group).
Then all of a sudden a sand filled leather ball bounce off his head. One of Bruce's stunner bullets for his sling. Freya began to smirk.
The newest addition to the Helix Heroes, had an obsession with playing a game called "hackey sack". Apperently popular in Elmshire, the name coming from some far off place (some say world).
He had introduced it to Den Withertongue who prided himself as being the most dexterious of the group, but this little halfling sure was giving him a run for his money.
Freyas smirk became a giggle, effecting her meditation slightly. Unlike, Django or Yvaine (who recieceved their power from other wordly beings) her magic was the result of great practice and focus. Daily meditation helped her hone her spells.
"Hold still ya big oaf" Yvaine blurted out. She was tending to Mukuns wounds sustained from the battle with the Auhitzol the night before. The muscular orc could barely perch his massive frame upon the tiny stool provided by the inn.
"Sorry."
"So, we take out the undead. Go to the Muslich boys funeral. Then lunch?"
"How did Django say? Easy.....Sleazy."
"Ha...ha...hahahahaa" Despite her best effort to maintain focus and knowing she would have to start over, Frey couldn't help herself. She was not alone; in fact starting cacophonous chain reaction of laughter throughout the room (enough to wake other guests of the inn).
Mukun was from the Pomarj where common tongue well wasn't that common. He quite often picked the wrong words (like now) to comedic effect.
"Oh, what are we going to do with you Mukun." Yvain sighed.
"Well, I don't know about you lot but I'm gonna try and squeeze in a little more sleep before I try meditating again." Freya chimed.
As her eyes closed, all went black and peaceful. After an indeterminite time she was shakened by the sound of pure panic.
"No.no..no...noooo" Yvains voice surrounding the still closed eyed Freya.
The sorcerous shook her head and opened her eyes. As they adjusted to the dimly lit basement of the Smeddling Winery, she knew this was no dream. She must have suffered from shock. Her mother Irja once described how trauma could make one hallucinate or zone out.
Still struggling to regain her senses, she finally snapped to clarity by the scream of Den. "Go let Django know. He should be back at the inn by now! Go!!!!"
Freya without question bolted up the stairs and into the stained glassed ground floor of the winery. Not taking a second to glance back. She knew time was of the essence.
Meanwhile, standing back-to-back Den and Pejab scanned the basement. If there were more incorporeal undead down here they could appear through anything. Bruce being directed to take Freya's place in applying pressure to one of Mukuns many wounds.
The scared halfling looked up and queeried "What do we do now?"
Den Withertongue replied "We regroup and recalibrate. Right Pejab?"
Nothing but silence from his comrade who litterally had his back. The elvish rogue didn't need to face his comrade to know why Pejab didn't reply.
Uncharacteristically, Pejab had lowered his weapon his face tilted towards his fallen comrade. In his short life Pejab had seen his fair share of death. He knew a fatal wound when he saw one. Neither Yvaines or Djangos magic could save the orc now.
As a single tear fell from the Dwarfs eye, he replied "Yes. We regroup. Recalibrate. And we coma back and make sure that son of bitch never rises from his grave again."
Rewards Granted
Undead Mob Welcoming Committee
- action points already rewarded
- damaged rug of smothering (sell for 2250 or repair for 9000)
- +1 Cruel Short Sword
- +1 Huntsman Dagger
- +3 Studded Leather
- Journal of Muler (partially translated who knows what secrets lay within)
- Shadow Hand Glove (a symbol of the Shadow Hand assassin gold worth 1500 influence capital)
- free repair of the "Thrasher"
- gold handed out (see end)
- monster components Auhizotl components (800 worth per player - items key words "grapple", "amphibious", "strength" and "natural armor")
- reward for returning Patrika see end
- Necklace of Fire Balls Type IV
Character(s) interacted with
Link is for a Whiteboard of NPC, secrets and rumors (select one of the grey sticky notes - then klick where it say 100% - then click on to selection - zoom out till the whitboard fits witdth of web page for better reading).
Barlox White Board
Report Date
25 Oct 2023
Primary Location
Secondary Location
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