World of Prime: Campaign Journal #36

Against the Giants: prologue

The party is relaxing in Iseiquerr, enjoying being treated like royals, when a panicked rider stumbles into court. Arkoommeamn is under attack by goblins! The queen is sending the party as they are all she has to send. They must delay the monsters until help – in the form of the Queen’s army and the Helm of Fire - can arrive in 12 days.

The party has a brief discussion about whether they should ask for payment for this task, but a consultation with the local legal experts reminds them that the noble right to bear arms is also a duty; the local landlord can deputize any noble to defend the realm when it is attacked. As the acknowledged overlord of Arkoommeamn, Queen Rian can command them to the defense. Also, there is the small matter of morality, as the nation is without noble protection because of the party.

However, the lawyer makes an equally compelling point: it would foolish to leave Iseiquerr equally undefended. He persuades the party to leave two of its members behind, the Druid and the Bard (those players couldn’t make this session).

Facing a journey of 130 miles overland, the party realizes the fastest way they can travel is simply walking. Given their magic rings, they need no food or water and only two hours of sleep a day. Even horses cannot travel so consistently. Just like the scene in Lord of the Rings, when Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli pick up their packs and start running after an entire orc army, the party pulls on their boots and starts walking.

There is nothing in these woods that can challenge the party, so after a long day and a half of walking through forests and plains, they enter civilized lands without incident.

They stop in a tavern in the county of Edalt for refreshments (even if they don’t have to drink, they still like to) and to listen in on the local gossip. They pass unrecognized, but recognize themselves in the talk around the bar as the patrons discuss the terrible news from the west.

“This happened because of those murder hobos,” one asserts. “If the King were still alive, the goblins would never dare raid our borders so brazenly.”

“I heard it be a wee bit more than a raid,” says another. “We might be next.”

“Bah,” answers the bartender. “If the gobbos brought an army, the dragon will eat them soon enough. The only thing we need to worry about is how you’re going to pay your bar tab.”

The party decides not to correct this bit of local lore, and moves on. Next they pass through the tiny county of Eimaeroud, where they are at least identified as adventurers. Lord Oscar offers them horses and supplies if they will ride to the realm’s defense. He, however, prefers to stay at home.

“I have too few troops to make a difference,” he explains, “and should I step over the border, I would have to choose sides between the two contenders for the throne. And I would not willingly do that, as I think both of them are unworthy.”

Refreshed by free wine, cheese, and bread, the party rides across the land to the capital. At last they come to familiar territory, passing over the bridge where they laid ambush to Malgorzata and her escort. As the sun sinks they arrive at the city gates, where they are finally recognized in all their glory. The gate guards take one look at them, shriek in terror, and flee.

The party rides unopposed through the town, only slightly concerned by the signs of disorder. They decide to complete their tavern crawl by checking into Gizela’s famous Golden Wing Inn. She is thrilled to see them. “You’ve come to help! I knew it!” Before they can clarify, she drags them out of the inn and down the road to a most unlikely sight: a keep besieged.

Besieged by the common troops formerly of the king and now serving Gizela. This is the headquarters of the Order of the Lance, a noble guild with as much military power as smaller counties. The commander, Baron Anatol, has holed up with thirty knights and enough supplies to last a season.

Gizela grins in excitement. “This is what you do, right? Clean out castles infested with rotten nobles. Well, hop to it, boys!”

The Ranger tries to talk sense into her. “Aren’t the goblins the real enemy? Shouldn’t we take these soldiers and march west to the border?”

She is unmoved. “A divided realm cannot defend against outside threats. Anatol will kill me the moment he leaves that keep, and lose the commoners in the process. But if you wipe out that traitorous pig, you can enrich yourselves and stabilize the kingdom at the same time. Then we’ll go deal with this goblin raid or whatever.”

The Cleric suggests, “We heard it was a wee bit more than a raid.”

“Pfft,” Gizela responds. “Peasants will say anything to get sympathy. I’m sure it’s nothing out of the ordinary. First problems first – end the threat of these murderous nobles, and then I’ll risk my life against goblins if you like. Wait – I get it – of course.” She considers, eyeing the party appraisingly. “I can do… 4,000? No, wait – 5,000 gold.”

“Gobins,” says the Ranger with annoyance.

“Of course,” she replies. “You drive a hard bargin. 10,000 is my final offer.”

Annoyed, and lacking the persuasive power of their own bard, the party decides to scout out the situation to the west for themselves. They ride halfway to the border, set their borrowed horses free, and begin stalking through the countryside.

Stumbling over a group of refugees yields their first evidence that the situation is truly dire. Despite the reports from the mixed group of peasants and craftsmen, the Ranger feels the party needs a closer look. They continue until they can see the burnt-out husk of the town. Again the Ranger drives them on for a closer look. Just beyond the town they discover a crude dirt fort with goblins patrolling the walls. The Ranger, still gripped by the need to see for himself, sneaks forward to peak over the dirt walls, and finds a treasure trove of goblinoid forces.

Mostly common archers, of course, but the amount of heavy iron in the form of bugbear knights, ogres, and trolls is surprising. Worse is the twelve-foot-tall armor-plated giant in the middle of the camp. Even worse is the bugbear patrol that is issuing out of the gates.

The Ranger proves his worth, though, by sneaking away again undetected. (Apparently he can roll dice for anything but combat.) The party decides to ambush the patrol to soften up the battle to come. The knights go down fairly easily, and the party decides to wait for the second round. After a couple of hours the goblin fort notices their patrol isn’t returning and sends out a stronger force.

This time the squad of knights are accompanied by two ogres. The Wizard decides that giving away their position is a necessary evil and casts a fireball. This has immediate and catastrophic effects, mostly for the Wizard who becomes the principal target of all enemy attention. He starts blinding bugbears, but their horses are almost as dangerous, and at one point the Wizard is engaged in a fist-fight with a goblinoid warhorse, which he only wins due to a well-placed Vampiric Touch. The additional vitality saves his life as the next round finds him on the receiving end of a bugbear mace that would have killed him outright without the boost. As it is, the Wizard is unconscious on the ground while the party finishes off the ogres.

After this the party decides to beat a retreat. They are soon spotted by yet another bugbear patrol, but this one chooses to shadow them rather than attack. After several hours of travel the party realizes the patrol has shrunk by one; individual members are obviously reporting back to the main goblin army on the party’s whereabouts. They decide this needs to stop.

Once again the Ranger proves his mettle, hiding in the grass while the party continues to retreat. The bugbear patrol passes him unnoticed, and now the party can turn and attack from both sides. The bugbears try to flee to either side, but archery and magic cut them down. The party then hastens onward.

When they finally return to Gizeal at the besieged keep they find nothing has changed. Gizela takes them at their word that the neighboring town of Udriem has burned, but she reckons it’s worth her life to release the knights inside.

The Cleric tries reason again. “Suppose we convince Anatole to leave off killing you long enough to fight the goblins. Afterwards we will sort out this line of succession. Let us go in and talk to him.”

Gizella agrees excitedly. “An excellent plan! Once you’re inside, you can murder them all.” She shouts up at the castle. “Hey, you. Tell your arrogant lord that we want to send in a negotiator.”

The knight shouts a string of obscenities back, but eventually the drawbridge is lowered. A knight standing behind the portcullis points at the Barbarian and says, “not him.” The other three advance to the gate, which opens to admit them into the castle.

Baron Anatole is no more amenable than Gizela. When the party implores him to sign a truce and ride out to face the goblins, he readily agrees. “Yes! Let’s put those traitors in the ground, and then we can go west to Udriem and kill the green ones.”

When the party protests, he reacts with shock. “Don’t you know that witch is working for the goblins? She summoned them to crush Udriem because Baron Dobro wouldn’t support her claim to the throne. Fighting her is fighting the goblins.”

The party finds this disconcertingly possible. The Cleric decides that diplomacy is just a fancy word for deceit, and suggests conducting further investigation under a Zone of Truth.

Anatol readily agrees, assuring them that Gizela’s treachery will be easily uncovered. When they return to the drawbridge they are surprised to see Gizela quickly accept, provided she gets to question Anatole in return.

Now both factions stand on either side of the drawbridge, with the party in the middle. The Cleric casts his spell, and Anatol pounces.

“Are you working for the goblins?” he demands.

“What? Of course not.” Gizela seems genuinely surprised by the question.

Anatol is a man of swords and action, not word games. He fumes silently until the party takes over the interrogation.

The Ranger speaks from the interests closest to his heart. “Did you take any money from the goblins?”

“No,” Gizela replies triumphantly, “not so much as a single copper coin.”

The Cleric tries a different tack. “Why do you think Anatole wants to kill you?”

“Isn’t it obvious? He thinks he should take over the realm, and I am the only one who can challenge him.” All of Gizela’s answers have come easily, without hesitation, indicating that she is telling the truth (or has somehow evaded the power of the spell).

“Now it’s my turn,” she says, and addresses her questions to Anatole. “Did you swear to your knights that you would kill me the first chance you got?”

“A thousand times yes, you miserable harlot,” is Anatole’s immediate response.

Gizela smiles sweetly. “Did you also swear to kill the adventurers who slew your lord in his castle?” she asks as she points at the party.

Anatole glowers. “I did so swear,” he admits.

Now the bardess grins with anticipated victory. “Have you taken any money from the goblins?”

Anatole opens his mouth to deny it, but no sound comes out! The spell blocks him from speaking a lie.

“You see!” cries Gizela. “Kill him now! He works against us all!”

The Cleric, however, is not so easily swayed. He orders everyone to stand down until a red-faced Anatole manages an answer. “I take their money and their tael after I kill them,” the Baron finally spits out. “Like I have always done.”

“That’s enough,” says the Ranger. “None of you are going to rule the realm if you don’t do something about those goblins. We’re riding out to battle tomorrow, with one of you on the left side and the other on the right side. Whoever doesn’t come automatically loses their right to the throne. Whoever kills the most goblins wins our support for the throne.”

This edict pleases neither faction. Both Anatole and Gizela appear to be considering their chances of simply destroying the party, since at the moment they are significantly reduced in number and possibly still light on spells after fighting the goblins. Until a pair of horses thunder up to the keep.

The Druid and Bard, having wiggled out of their duties back in Isiequerr, bringing with them the fruits of their labors: a handful of magic wands.

The beginning of the End of Days

The importance of what has just happened in the USA cannot be overstated. The Supreme Court struck down separation of church and state, made gun control impossible, and restored slavery. Over the course of a week.

Historians look back and pick out the inflection points of history. Sometimes this is difficult. Sometimes it is not. Like the Riechstag fire or crossing the Rubicon, this will be identified as the termination point of American democracy.

As I tell Australians, my short lecture on American politics is this: no matter how bad you think it is, it's worse. The idea that the state can seize a woman's body for the use of a random citizen is obviously, blatantly bad; but the truth is worse.

Update: my brother pointed out the case of McFall v. Shimp, where a man sued his cousin for a bone marrow transplant to save his life. Judge Flaherty ruled against the dying man, stating that forcing a person to submit to an intrusion of his body in order to donate bone marrow "would defeat the sanctity of the individual and would impose a rule which would know no limits, and one could not imagine where the line would be drawn."

 Apparently the line is drawn at "woman."

 

World of Prime: Campaign Journal #35

A Noh Play in One Act

The party decides to go with their traveling merchant disguise again, purchasing a thousand gold pieces of silk (the Ranger tries to write it off as an expense but the Queen’s accountants deny him). They sail into Isiequerr and are immediately discomfited… by the orderliness and cleanliness of the realm.

Isiequerr is a place where everyone knows their place. Peasants rush out of the way of lords; civil servants without rank wear placards and wield authority without meeting the gaze of nobles. The absence of hunger and violence makes the party begin to question their allegiance to the wily and wild beauty of Queen Rian.

Checking into an inn, they once again inquire as to how best to approach the royal castle with their rare goods. Market day is only a few days out, so the party prepares to run the same play they had success with in Arkoommeamn. But the locals have a different idea.

After a day of sight-seeing, weapon-shopping, and watching the local theater (and being discreetly tailed by commoners), they retire to the inn for dinner. The waitress brings them a message as she clears the table: they should check on their horses in the stable. This is an intriguing message because they don’t have horses. After a mercifully brief discussion of the possible dangers, the party finally decides to go out to the barn. There they find the waitress waiting for them.

“Not everyone is of the same mind,” she explains. There are those who would like to see a change of rule in the realm. The Bard is of course suspicious but the waitress knows enough catch-phrases to sound convincingly like a member of the shadowy network that the party has encountered in both other kingdoms (the rogue Esyllt in Flef and the bard Gizela in Arko). For 5,000 gp she offers them the same deal Gizela did: to turn aside the low ranked knights and let the party contest against the king’s retinue directly. Again the Ranger tries to haggle, but the waitress just rolls her eyes. The Druid pays her fee in tael; she instructs them to be return to the barn the same time tomorrow night.

The next day they wander the town attempting to purchase healing potions, but the temple is closed for a local holiday. That evening they gather in the barn and ready themselves for battle.

The waitress appears and calmly leads them through the dark, silent streets. She pauses at a street corner and informs them that battle is but a minute away; they should cast whatever long-term spells they desire. The party is only 7^th level; at this stage they only have one or two preparations to make. The waitress then leads them directly to the castle gates.

The guards at the gate stare out into the street, apparently unaware of the party’s existence. When someone inquires, the waitress explains they have been blinded by the oldest spell in the book: gold. The Bard observes that is actually the second oldest spell, but his wit is not appreciated.

The party walks unopposed through the gates and into the courtyard. As they approach the steps up to the central palace a troop of men form a line behind them: knights armed with a long sword, a short sword, and a bow. The waitress calms the party and explains. “They will allow you to leave uncontested if you provide them with proof of the king’s defeat.” Then she pushes open the heavy door and steps inside.

They follow, eager to get to the heart of the matter without having to slaughter dozens or hundreds of men of little account. Inside they are greeted by an unexpected sight: King Tsuneuji and his Minister of Divinity, Vicar Masamori, sit alone at the far end of a long table in a dark hall. The only light in the hall is the lantern on table in front of the two men. The King has obviously been expecting them; he uses the initiative to stand up and monologue.

First, a single candle is lit in the balcony that surrounds the room. A man sits behind the candle and begins to strum a lyre, casting Bardic Inspiration. The observant members of the party realize there are a number of people around him, armed with musical instruments.

Second, the king stands up and places an ivory mask on his face. He declaims a ritual piece of dialogue from a classic play: “A noble ruler contemplates the vicissitudes of fate.”

Third, Vicar Masamori stands up beside the king, also placing an ivory mask over his face, and reciting “The favor of the gods stand with him.” The Cleric identifies this as the Prayer spell, though the party is too far away to suffer the negative effects.

Fourth, stagehands in the balcony then turn spotlights onto six knights kneeling on either side of the table, between the party and the king. These men are in a staggered line, so that there are four in front with dual swords ready and two behind them with bows ready. They recite in unison, “His loyal retainers stand with him,” and stand up. All of them are clearly wearing ivory masks.

Finally, spotlights illuminate each member of the part. The king fires two arrows, one at the Ranger and one at the Barbarian, clearly testing their defenses. And then initiative passes to the party.

This is clearly a set-up; on the other hand, it’s a set-up the party wanted. The party is higher-rank than the defenders, and only out-numbered by the addition of a half-dozen 3^rd rank fighters. This is a fairer fight than they could have hoped for, and they leap into battle.

The Barbarian charges up the left side of the room, engaging the knights. They are hardy enough to slow him down, though clearly outmatched. The Ranger engages shoots an arrow into the bard in the balcony; the entire room hisses in disapproval. Fortunately the arrow is not enough to kill a man of rank; the bard ignores it and continues the show. The rest of the party begins casting their short-term combat spells: mirror images, magic hammers, and the like.

And things immediately go south. A spotlight illuminates an elaborately dressed man on the left side of the room as he recites a terrible joke. "A barbarian walks into a tavern. Ouch! says the tavern; why don't you use the door like normal people?" A drum roll from the orchestra accompanies the punch line. The Barbarian chuckles, then laughs, then collapses to the ground under a gale of guffaws. The king begins shooting spell-casters, and his arrows hit like guided missiles.

The Bard tries to advance on the right side. These knights are only 3^rd rank but they are still dangerous. The Cleric tries to cast a spell, and suddenly spotlights illuminate a woman on the right side of the room. She cries out, “Denied!” punctuated by a crash of cymbals, and the Cleric’s spell is countered.

The next round sees the Ranger targeted with a joke. "Two rangers are walking in the woods when they discover a set of tracks. One says it is bear tracks; the other says it is wolf tracks. They are still arguing when the wagon train runs over them." He also collapses in helpless amusement. This is cruel pay-back for when the party crippled the master spy of Varsoulou with Tasha’s Hideous Laughter.

Faced with a line of advancing knights, the Druid decides its bear time. He easily takes out the remaining knights on the left side, saving the Barbarian from being stabbed to death while helpless, but is in turn devastated by the waitress back-stabbing him with dual daggers. They notice the waitress is now wearing an ivory mask. No one saw her put it on; in fact, no one saw her since the battle started.

Unfortunately Lady Senko, like all rogues, is a one-hit wonder: the ursine druid smashes her into the wall, killing her in a single brutal attack.

Somehow the party remains fighting until the Barbarian’s spell wears off. Each turn Baron Kane the jokester targets another party member, but these jokes all fail and hence are too lame to repeat. (Ironically, the only failed saving throws accompanied the only jokes the table laughed at. Obviously I needed to work on the jokes more.) The king does great work with arrows, but mostly succeeds in stripping the Bard of images and reducing the Cleric to single digits.

Once the Barbarian is back on his feet things start looking up. He charges the joking sorcerer… only to run face-first into both an invisible set of iron bars and a Glyph of Warding. The explosion knocks him down again. The bear charges forward and uses its reach to reach inside the invisible cage, taking Baron Kane out of the battle in an instant. The Ranger stands up, finally recovered, and the Cleric runs up to heal the Barbarian.

Meanwhile the Cleric’s hammer has been beating on Lady Tome, forcing her to leave off counter-spelling to drink a healing potion. More importantly, Vicar Masamori has to run to her side and heal her as well. The Bard is still duelling a line of knights and slowly winning, but not without cost.

The king turns his arrows to the bear. Already wounded from the backstab, the bear falls to negative. The Cleric, having just healed the Barbarian, quickly turns to healing the Druid.

The Barbarian knows it is time to end this. He puts one foot on the table, prepared to charge over it to get to the king, but then his innate sense of decorum convinces him to run around the table instead (ha! What actually happened is the DM told him to make a reflex save, and he changed his mind. The DM wrote this off to the barbarian class’s innate trap sense ability). This results in more sonic glyphs, leaving him on the ground unconscious a second time.

Meanwhile, the Cleric’s Spiritual Hammer does more good than it ever has, knocking Lady Tome out. The Ranger has finished off the last of the knights, and the Bard, seeing that the fight is now moving to the king, decides to evade the Vicar and charge up the table.

He fails his reflex save; the table collapses under his weight, dropping him forty feet into a spiked pit. (No do-overs for the Bard – he should have been paying attention!). Much wailing ensues, but the Ranger has a rope, of course. He wraps it around his leg and tosses one end down, leaving his hands free to continue the archery battle.

Which is good, because the next round sees the king put the Ranger on the floor. Those arrows really hurt!

The Bard climbs out of the pit, anchored by the unconscious Ranger’s body. He uses his magic to heal the Ranger, while the Cleric is healing the Druid. Then the Bard heroically charges Vicar Masomori. The Glyphs of Warding are not enough to stop him (on account of his hardly taking any damage so far, thanks to the Mirror Images). The Druid crawls forward to heal the Barbarian before throwing fire around heedless of the risk of arson, and the Cleric leaps the table to double-team Masomori.

The party is in dire straights. Half of them have been knocked out, one of them twice; they are almost out of spells, and all of them are low on vitality. But the king is only 7^th rank, and his retinue are lower. To the extent they have focused on offense, they have sacrificed defense.

Masomori goes down to the combined assault. The Barbarian lays into the king, reducing him to single hit points. However, the Barbarian is equally low and the king draws his two swords, preparing to deal out a fatal response. The Ranger dramatically ends the encounter with a single arrow, killing the king just in time to save the Barbarian’s life.

The orchestra wails once in deafening grief and then goes silent. The spotlights wink out, replaced by the gentle illumination of house lights. A brief pause while the party deals out mercy to the not yet dead, rather than waiting for them to bleed out (though it must be said the Druid was not inclined to mercy). The party finds a small box with 10,000 tael on the table next to the king;s lantern. A search of the bodies reveals a bunch of minor magic items and the most precious gift of all: a scroll of Raise Dead!

Then servants file into the room with mops and brooms. Two junior clerics offer to heal the party, and a servant shows them to the guest rooms, explaining that the master suites will not be safe for the party until they clear out the many glyphs surrounding every part of the castle that should never be entered by mere visitors.

The party has passed the test. They are both powerful enough to rule (as demonstrated by their destruction of the king’s retinue) and civilized enough to be tolerated (shown by their adherence to the rules of the battle designed to minimize the collateral damage). In the morning they find themselves addressed as Lords. A temporary position, as they make it clear that they intend to turn the realm over to Queen Rian. Yet the staff are eager to change their minds; the barons and counts will soon make their journey to the capital to swear to their new lieges, and the life of the realm can continue much as before but with different rulers. After all, better the devil you have than a mad sorceress who they already know can never be tamed to their idea of civilization. 

 (This was their closest battle yet, despite the clear imbalance of levels, and the players were genuinely concerned at several points. I think their sense of danger was also fueled by the fact that I had a plan for if they lost that would not result in a TPK. Due to that, I probably seemed far more sanguine about their difficulties than they are used to.)

World of Prime: Campaign Journal #33 & #34

(Lazy DM forgot to write up the last two adventures. I can't recall all the details of the battles - rest assured they were glorious - but I do want to record the plot advancement.)

Second Invasion of Drield 

The bard has risen to the ranks of the silver-tongued; he is positively glib these days. He talks Queen Rian into a diversion: an assault on the goblins to demonstrate the power of the helm is Rian's to command. In truth the party is afraid of confronting King Sylwester and seeks more rank before taking on a mission of such magnitude.

Malgorzata objects, but Vicar Neve sides with the bard, perhaps eager for the glory that has so long eluded her as the lesser power of the sister's triumvirate. Half the Royal army marchers out, accompanied only those peers whose stature and prior attendance entitle them to a place in the expedition: Vicar Irwen, Count Gareth, and the Order of the Hound. And, of course, the party's troops of Yeoman and Marksmen. The queen also sends her personal guard of cataphracti to protect Neve. While these men are unranked, they are well-equipped and as fanatically loyal as gold and magic can make them.

The week-long approach (remember that on Prime, a week is ten days) is unmarred by incident or dragon. The assault on the keep of Eichouboomnea is a foregone conclusion, though the surprise deployment of ballistae discomfort the cleric to a considerable degree. More concerning is the liberal use of poison and the horde of bugbear knights. Nonetheless, the battle is won and the ranked nobles force their way into the throne room... only to find it deserted. The Flefliequelpians are well-versed in goblin trickery and sweep the keep for traps before establishing a temporary headquarters for the army.

Over the next few days the army leaves at morning's light to harvest hobgoblins while the noble leaders plot their next move. This is the second goblin keep to fall, and the tally of the dead implies the remaining goblin districts have been seriously bled as well. A final thrust on the capital should break the organized resistance of the nation. However, time is an issue, as the goblin lands are too depleted to provide game for the human army, and absolutely no one is prepared to live off of goblin food. The ten days of supplies the army carries is the limit of their stay. The question is whether that time should be spent profiting off of the hobgoblin hunt or marching on the capital.

Before a decision can be reached, the goblins force the issue. On the second day reports come of significant goblin forces engaging the army in the field. Vicar Neve rushes off to the front, where her magic will render fatal wounds into mere inconveniences for her soldiers. Malgorzata, whose participation so far has been a few fireballs on the battlefield, is not worth risking for a minor engagement. When the party decides to stay at the keep to guard Mal, Vicar Irwen and Count Gareth accompany Neve to battle.

As evening falls, the party sits down to a meal in the heart of the keep. Malgorzata's ceaseless complaints that all of this is a waste of time while her family remains in danger are suddenly cut off when she turns white and falls to the floor, dropping the glass of wine she had just been poured. The servant drops the wine bottle and its disguise at the same time, producing a pair of daggers and stabbing at the nearest party member. Meanwhile, the rest of the goblin assassins break their invisibility spell with a collection of ranged attacks.

The goblin nobles of this nation are high level rogues, and in past encounters they have seriously under-performed. This time, working in a large group inside a building against high-value targets, they finally show their worth. Both the barbarian and the ranger are left bleeding on the floor before the battle finishes. Absent the wizard's spells, this might have gone quite badly; as it is, the druid only barely prevents the last goblin from escaping with the incapacitated Mal. No one is quite certain why the goblins wanted to capture Mal rather than simply murder her, but everyone agrees that outcome would have been disastrous. The cleric's spells manage to keep Mal alive, but absent an antidote the woman will soon perish.

When Neve returns in the morning from the diversionary attack on the army, her magic restores the party and Mal back to health. Now it is agreed that the capital is the next and immediate target, as the rank of the slain goblin assassins indicate there might not be any nobles left at all. However, once again fate intervenes: a message from the Queen arrives.

Rescuing Witches

King Sylwester has descended to the basest level; he has hung a witch from his castle battlement and promised to hang one a week until Malgorzata returns. The rest of her female kin are interred in his dungeon, robbed of their spells and denied the ability to regenerate them. For good measure, Mal's husband - formerly the King's Master of Foot - is in chains with them.

Mal goes ballistic. There is no longer any possibility of delay; the witch will turn the Helm on the party if they so much as suggest it. Reluctantly they saddle up for a solitary journey into danger. None of the other nobility can accompany them without a formal declaration of war, and while Mal is eager to ride to her kin's rescue, the queen's soldiers will not allow the witch to return to her homeland where, after all, she could easily have a change of heart and return to Sylwester's service to save her family.

Nor could any common men keep pace with our heroes, who no longer require sleep or food due to the magic they wield. At least they have brought everyone up to sixth rank. Thanks to their number they are now as pussiant as most royal courts. Which is well, as they are about to single-handedly assault a royal court in its own castle.

They ride directly to Arkoommeamn, as it is closer from their current position than returning to Flef and sailing out. The queen's messenger assures them their boat has already been dispatched with instructions to meet them at the same location as before, ready to transport the rescued women back to the safety of Rian's court.

No one challenges them in the wilderness, the fields, or even the city gates. They stop by Gizela's inn to quench their thirst before the big battle. She is slightly apoplectic to see them so brazenly implicate her in their coup, but now that they are here, she takes advantage of the situation, extracting a very large sack of gold from the party in exchange for a promise to turn the king's lancers.

Only at the castle do they encounter resistance, and it is everything the king has. A square of pikemen guard the gate, backed by companies of crossbowmen on the walls, and troops of lancers waiting to charge the party from either side.

As promised, the lancers suddenly turn and flee. The remaining common soldiers are almost useless; the druid and bard's swarms of toxic vermin drive off the square of pikemen, who are keenly aware that the barbarian would likely slaughter them all if they did try to stand. The crossbowmen are more effective than they should be, raining down hordes of bolts and trusting to luck (i.e. crit-fishing) to score a hit. The ranger and barbarian engage in an archery duel that numbers ensure they cannot win, until the cleric shuts it down with a wall of mist.

This gets them into the gatehouse. In the courtyard beyond they face two squares of pikes and more crossbowmen on the roof of the keep itself. The bard attempts to open the keep door while the barbarian tries to force it; both fail until the druid warps the wood in the door to weaken it. He is, after all, the one with the record of building kills. More swarms dispense with the pikemen, and the party escapes the hail of bolts by entering the keep.

In the great hall on the first floor they are met by fifty first-rank knights. These men would be far more dangerous on horseback, but the battle is here, inside, and they are true to their oaths. The barbarian is humbled by the immense amount of damage these men manage to inflict on him before magic and his whirling greatsword demolishes the knights.

On the second floor they face the officers of the realm. A score of captains and a squad of baronets fight with more dispatch and hardiness than the first-ranks, but the barbarian is slightly more circumspect and the battle eventually concludes without any crippling damage.

On the third floor Slywester and his court await them. This is a true battle, and the party is already seriously depleted from the previous engagements. The king's wizard summons a fire-breathing hound from hell and disappears, his contribution to the battle already concluded in the preparatory spells he as cast on the rest of the retinue. The King is indeed formidable, dealing out terrible damage and surprisingly hard to hurt. Only the Master of Horse and the hell hound are easy prey; the others acquit themselves well. The Minister of Coin/Royal Assassin springs out of hiding from a corner and inflicts terrible damage on the bear (the druid, having run out of spells, resorted to melee combat in the last battle). The king manages to reduce half the party to negative hit-points, while the cleric desperately patches them up and sends them back into battle. Finally he falls, leaving only his paladin standing; she spends her last action trying to heal her liege before the ranger strikes her down.

At this point any more serious resistance would probably be fatal, but there is no one left to resist. The wizard is gone, the soldiers are dead, and the witches are quickly freed. No one opposes their departure from the castle or the city or the realm; they reach their boat without difficulty, and return by sea to the court of Queen Rian once again.

If they thought to find respite from their labors, they are mistaken. The queen can see her new throne as Empress of the Human Realm in the Gold Coast just waiting for her. Only one obstacle stands in her way; the royal court of Iesiequerr. A formal war of succession is not in her interests; she wants to amalgamate three kingdoms into one, not annex a devastated nation into her own war-torn country. The queen asks the party to resolve the issue, though like all royal requests it is not conceivable to refuse. In exchange she pays them 12,000 gp of magic... in advance.

The cleric is dubious about this murder-for-hire arrangement, but the queen's personal guard of cataphracti - all mercenaries from Iesiequerr - testify to the corruption and degradation of their former royal court. In their unbiased opinion their home country would be liberated to serve under the wise and powerful Queen Rian, who, it must be said, is the only force in the domain the party is still afraid of save for the dragon itself.

The iron law of landrule is that the ruler who cannot defend their land is not entitled to it. The party will now put that strength to the test, as it is done again and again across the face of Prime. The blade of the thresher spins, separating the common from the noble.