West Marches Adventure Log - Volume 2003

• Game 08 (94) [2003-01-26]
• Game 07 (93) [2003-01-25]
• Game 06 (92) [2003-01-24]
• Game 05 (91) [2003-01-22]
• Game 04 (90) [2003-01-19]
• Game 03 (89) [2003-01-11]
• Game 02 (88) [2003-01-05]
• Game 01 (87) [2003-01-03]

The Short Version:

Therian and Hargen talk with Brag, Corwin, and Marduk
There is evidence of ever-increasing Cult of Fenris activity (see Game 006 (92))
	In particular, there are scary Barbarian-Werewolves!
The Five decide to go to "the source."
They hike far north-northeast, through and past the Moors.
They find a Black Keep, seemingly uninhabited.
We walked up to the front door, felt the ominous chill of dark, undead evil, and opened it anyway.
Almost right away we were set upon by zombies and skeletons. We dispatched those
On the second floor, we got into serious action with:
	Two Ogre Zombies
	A bunch of skeletons
	A bunch of human zombies
	Two half-plate wearing warriors -- who became undead when killed! -- requiring two deaths
	A cleric of Fenris
We eventually destroyed them
We foolhardily ventured on -- but hey, it was light exploring (^_^)
Entering the main building, Brag and Corwin got the magic cigar: a Glyph of Warding -- ouch!
Again, almost right away we tripped alarms, and were set upon -- chased outside -- by:
	Two Barbarian-werewolves (we killed one before he changed, so we're not sure about him)
	One half-plate warrior-then-undead
	A bunch of wolves
Defeating them, we advanced quickly to the rear, and returned to the Stockade in the cover of night
(hoping that scores of wolves, werewolves, and wraiths were not pursuing us)...

[Ketch (Chris Haddad) writes, continuing from Game 002, at 18:47:07 on January 13th:]

The Players:

Ketch - Roofer

Elijesse - Messenger

Walker - Pincushion

Marduk (Duke of Mar) - Hobgoblin Love Slave

Hargen - Long Distance Psycho Killa

Game 1 "Micro-summary:" And there came 5 Horsemen, albeit without horses...

And so: Game 2

We spent about two weeks in the Stockade. I taught Elijesse some more roguish lessons. Hargen got even better at firing that damn bow of his. Walker and Marduk made a quick trip to town and back. Rested and healed, we headed back to Zurak Zill (yes, I know I spell it differently every time.) We didn't get nearly as lost this time, and after a few days stumbled upon the fort. Jess and I did some forward scouting and found both a pile of charred goblin bones and several fresh goblin corpses. Calling the noisier members of our group up, we explored more fully and came upon the corpse of the bugbear king. We didn't have much time to wonder at his death, however, as a flying lion with the face of a man spotted us, took to the air and, using it's barbed tail, stung Jess and I with long and wicked iron spikes. We retreated to the others and took heavy damage as the creature rained death down upon us. Walker clutched his sword and gnashed his teeth, eager to get into the fight, but unable to contribute much as long as the creature was 50 feet above us. Hargen, Jess, Marduk and myself spread out and plunked arrows up toward it, eventually causing it to come down to the ground for melee combat. I'm sure it would have done horrible things to all of us, but Walker planted his sword directly between its eyes, and Marduk got the killing blow, smiting the evil thing to the grave.

Exploring the place more fully, we found what we were looking for -- the entrance to the caves below. We rested the night, tending our wounds, and then lit our torches and headed down a long and thin stairwell. At the bottom of the stair, we saw what we weren't expecting: Architecture. We took a left, entering through a large stone mouth and found a stone pillar, carved with high draconic runes and covered, sloppily, with others, perhaps written with blood. Heading the other way, again through a stone mouth, we traveled down a long hallway and came upon a few goblins at a small campfire. We killed most of them, and headed down another hallway, this one "guarded" by perhaps two dozen large stone statues and, more importantly, a floating and tentacled brain.

The brain -- a grell -- caught Walker napping and stung him with its 10 tentacles. He shook off the effects and cursed at yet another air borne opponent. Jess and I fired arrows at the creature, but Hargen was stunned and paralyzed by a tentacle. Walker and Marduk dove below the beast, trying to keep it too distracted to eat Hargen while Jess and I put our bows to work. Eventually the damned thing fell in a squishy pile.

We found a big stone box with an even bigger stone hammer trap attached to it. Walker, Marduk and I took the full brunt of the thing, getting knocked silly. We tried to formulate an elaborate plan to break the trap, but it turns out we didn't have to. Jess -- so clever -- found a hidden switch in the other room, disabling the trap. Inside the box was, of course, treasure.

Wounded, we traveled back up the stairs and slept at the entrance to the caves. The next day, somewhat better, we continued our explorations. After some time -- and marveling at several strange rooms, all of them defiled and grafittied in red -- came to a strange room with a dead goblin. The room had large square stones as its floor and two doors in each of its walls. Stepping on a rigged square caused a spear to rocket across the room towards you. Jess and I spent a good deal of time determining which stones were trapped and which weren't. We eventually found our way to a door. Examining it, I found that the handle on the door, if pulled, would slide out -- it was in fact a switch. Tying a rope to the ring and retreating to the door we entered -- after many tries -- I triggered the switch. This didn't have a positive effect, however, as it caused the squares directly in front of us to be trapped.

Jess and I stayed at this room, trying to find a way to get by the puzzle while Marduk, Hargen and Walker went back to see if there was another way into the room. Jess and I spent about a minute where we were before hearing the familiar sounds of battle.

Double timing our way toward the combat, we ran full on into another goblin war. Hargen looked hard pressed by several goblins, Marduk was at the far end of the room, beleaguered by hobgoblins and Walker, as is the custom, looked about to drop. I drew my sword and dove toward my companions, hoping to help them make a retreat, but things quickly got worse as someone cast a fear spell on us, causing Hargen and Walker to run. I tried to aid Marduk, but couldn't seem to land a blow on one hobgoblin in particular who wielded a nasty scimitar. Jess, wisely, retreated from the room and drew her bow, taking out several goblins, while Marduk and I took hit after hit from the hobgoblins. Marduk managed to put down two of the creatures, but the third -- with the scimitar -- wounded us both. I headed back toward the door, encouraging Marduk to do the same, but couldn't fight my way past two tenacious goblins. Marduk gave up on attacking all together, and was battered toward the door by the hobgoblin leader. Just when it all seemed lost, Hargen and Walker ran back into the fray. Seeing that, the goblin wizard called the hobgoblin warrior back and cast a web spell on us. Marduk was left alone in the room, facing down the bloodthirsty hobgoblin. Walker called upon his god and made it to the front to stand by Marduk. A tense moment passed and both sides retreated.

We headed up the stairs to tend our wounded (read, all of us). We were hoping to heal for a few days and make another press into the caves, but it didn't work out that way. We had one day to recover, healing as best we could. On watch, Jess heard a horrible thing -- the distinctive sound of Manticore wings heading our way. She screamed us awake and headed for the hole, hoping like all of us, to hide from the creature. The sound was a clever ruse, however, as the hobgoblin leader, a few goblins and a goblin wizard poured out of the hole. The hobgoblin, ensorcelled against good and blinking in and out of space, cut Jess badly, forcing her to retreat. Hargen fired at the wizard, but his arrows dissolved against some barrier. I shot the hobgoblin, but it ignored me and dove on Marduk whoUd only just gotten his shield and sword ready.

[Ed. note: Da DM sez]
(The hobgoblin actually had a spell on him to make him look all blurry (aka Blur) and was not blinking in and out (a la Blink). I think there was confusion about that during the fight (at um, 4 am?). Dramatically very different of course...)

Walker waded through the remaining goblins and rushed toward the wizard, taking a few magic missiles to the chest as he did. Marduk held the Hobgoblin back, fighting defensively as Hargen, Jess and I fired arrows at it. It looked grim (Marduk had 1 HP) but one of Hargen's (or was it Jess'?) arrows knocked the hobgoblin to disabled. With its last breath the goblin leapt upon Marduk, driving its sword into his stomach and falling, quite dead, on top of him. They both looked so still.

Walker backed off from the wizard to tend to Marduk The wizard, alone now, beat feet out into the dark night. Hargen and Jess tried a shot, but couldn't see him well enough to hit. I ran for the door, called upon my amulet and chased the goblin down, ending his life right in the middle of his casting a spell.

Weary and wounded, but luckily not dead, we gathered our treasures and went back to keeptown.

[Ketch (Chris Haddad) writes, at 3:45AM January 6th:]
19 Goblins
13 Wolves
3 Bugbears
2 Worgs
1 Shaman
1 Dire Wolf
1 Ogre
...and a sack full of weasels

Not the mention the ones that got away.

That's how I like to spend a Sunday night.

Quotes (both from the DM):
"That's like having sex not with a condom but with the whole sheep."
"If he was still alive he'd probably be fired."

I need sleep now.

[Ketch (Chris Haddad) writes, again, at 18:47:07 on January 13th:]

The Players:

Ketch - Roofer

Elijesse - Messenger

Walker - Pincushion

Marduk (Duke of Mar) - Hobgoblin Love Slave

Hargen - Long Distance Psycho Killa

Game 1: And there came 5 Horsemen, albeit without horses

Ok, I'm really going to try and keep this to a reasonable length, so forgive me for the terse sentences. And yes, I am leaving some details out, but that's just the way of things.

Eventually we all gathered at the new Stockade. Marduk said something about being on a quest, having to go to someplace called Zirak Zill and other stuff along those lines. Sounded like a good reason to get out of town, so we all volunteered to help him on his holy endeavor, bought a few weeks food and headed off into the wilderness.

Walker is a hell of a combatant and a damned good priest, but his skills as a Ranger leave something to be desired. We got really, really lost, heading further north than we'd intended, killing an errant Ogre (3 arrows, two from me and one from my amazing apprentice) and playing games around the campfire with a mess of wolves and one huge dire wolf.

I tried to interrogate the goblin but . . well. . Walker doesn't let me talk to strangers for a reason. Eventually Marduk stepped in, doing his best to put the goblin at ease while I translated back and forth. At some point Marduk stepped out of the conversation and I negotiated with the Goblin ("Yes, well, of course I wish I were as clever and strong as the great dead squirrel. If you tell us how to get to Zirak Zill, we'll give ourselves over to your master.") Once I had the information we needed, I knocked poor Dead Squirrel out with a wicked sneak attack punch, tied him up and we went on our way.

Following Squirrel's instructions, we came upon a low and elderly fort, constructed of stacked logs that have been out in the rain too long. We could have done a little scouting, found out the breadth and width of the force, planned our assault or done other reasonable things but . . well. . where's the fun in that? No, instead we just walked in the front door, unsheathed our weapons and began a rain of carnage which will be spoken of to Goblin babies for generations to come.

Things started well. Just a few Goblin guards who fell easily enough. One got away, though, and ran into another room to rouse the troops. We followed close behind, trying to kill him off before he could cause too much trouble and walked right into a room full of Goblins and Wolves.

The fight was the thing of legends. Goblins fell by the score. Wolves choked on our arrows. Two worgs and three bugbears entered the fray, doing a good job of turning the tide against us. Walker was surrounded by bugbears, and seemingly doomed. Calling upon the power of Fahrlangan, he swung his greatsword with amazing skill and strength, cutting down two bugbears with one blow. Elijesse dodged and danced, keeping several goblins and wolves at bay. Hargen let fly arrow after arrow. Marduk rushed to the front. I tumbled madly about the room, putting my longsword to use wherever a flank was available. We thought we'd won the day until an older bugbear in finely wrought armor and wielding a huge warhammer, entered the fray. His worgs were killed and he was badly wounded -- but not before laying Walker low. We cut our losses, obviously not in shape to finish the old man off. We thought our troubles had only begun, but when we exited the fort we saw goblins fleeing before us, screaming about the "White Faces," tripping over their own feet.

Vowing that we'd return, we headed back to the stockade.

[Please see Game 003]

[Dan writes:]
[Ed. - Spring Week 12: Day 5]
When last we left Corwin, it was late in the evening of Day 5...

On Day 6, Elijesse and Ozric headed back to town. Traevin and Siobhan also went,
as did Celkirk, sent by Corwin to update the Prelate Billorkin on events at the
Stockade.

..

Sometime in the past, specifically, sometime during the five weeks after the return
of the large group that slew the Hydra, we find Brag knocking on the gates of
[pending permission]

Time passes...

[Ed. - Spring Week 12: Day 7]
The last day of the penultimate week of Spring finds our Half-Orc Barbarian-Monk
friend, Brag, running lightly north, to the Stockade. Out stretching his legs, he
arrives there in the late afternoon, not even winded.

He spots a shining figure in the distance, across the construction site -- it's
Corwin. The two adventuring companions greet one another, and stay up late, catching
up on their lives.

Brag notices there seem to be three groups of people at the Stockade:
Workers/Laborers - mostly Keeptown folk trying to make a wage
Guards - Stockade guards -- yes, under Prespa's command
Hunters - a ranger, Norwood, and a troupe of hunters, who sally forth vs. goblins

[Ed. - Spring Week 13: Day 1]
Corwin and Brag seek Norwood out. They find a lean fighter type, armed, "lightly"
with the trademark longsword and shortsword combo of rangers. He's young -- but old in
spirit -- grizzled, a veteran -- and relatively new to the West Marches (6-9 months (?)).

Introductions are exchanged, and Corwin explains frankly he's in search of some activity.
Norwood asks about the alleged witch, but Corwin and Brag say they're surveying their
options. When asked if he might pursue her, he explains it's not really in his
jurisdiction, as it were.

Norwood is tasked with monitoring the encroaching goblin presence. At this, he and
Brag exchange tales. Since Corwin was involved in the near-fatal escape from the Goblin
Army [Ed. - See Game #59],
he joins in the discussion, although both he and Brag omit any explicit reference to the
Hall of Kings.

Norwood explains how goblin forces frequently have bugbears and hobgoblins -- but not
both in the same group. They just don't get along. However, there is reportedly a
large goblin force massed at the old "Rotting Fort" (Goblin name: "Zirik-Zill").
Supposedly there's a "wise, old goblin," there, possibly a "wizard" or powerful shaman,
who is not only in charge, but enforcing such organization that bugbears _and_ hobgoblins
are there, together.

Norwood sketches in the dirt with his short sword, a map of the Moors:

                          g



         x                                 y

                                                   3

                       2
                    p

     1




               s

[Ed. - I'm using letters for simplicity:
x    Barrack's Wall
g    old goblin fort "Rotting Fort"
y    ancient battlefield where ducal forces destroyed goblin forces
p    Plinth (site of former ducal statue)
s    current stockade construction site
#'s  Locations of current and/or desired Ranger bonfire sites]

Norwood explains he has groups of his men at Sites 1 and 2. They take as much wood
with them as they can carry, and set bonfires alight each night. Then they move
a bit aways, and light fires there -- the idea being that having fires at these three
sites -- which move -- will look like a much larger force is camped on the Moors.

His situation: he has men at 1 and 2, but none at 3, which is about 3-4 days march.

[Ed. - At this juncture, Ping stops by, delivering Cafe Ladro beans...and she
is "arm-twisted" into staying! Woohoo!]

    ****** Time passes in the Real World before this recounting is continued... *****

[Corwin says] While we were talking with Norwood, Brag and I looked up at one point
to find Elijesse standing right there! We sure hadn't heard her approach. Well, we
introduced her to Norwood, and well, to make the story shorter, we three agreed to lead
a group of Norwood's men to Site 3. (Ha! Well, you see, that is, _Brag_ volunteered to
lead the group, but I felt I should tag along, you know, as a symbol of authority, you
know, in case these men realized they were following a Half-Orc Barbarian! (^_^)   )

Then Brag asked Norwood a question about Orcs, and I kind of tuned out. I just remember
hearing the strange word: "Tulkuswine"

[Ed. - Spring Week 13: Day 2]
After saying my morning prayers to St. Cuthbert, Brag and Elijesse and I met Norwood
and the five men just before Dawn:
		Cargan, the de facto leader -- he took lieutenant to Brag's captain -- had a longsword
		Jalspert, had sling and dagger
		Foxus was an archer
		Brinnan also had a bow
		"Northerner" - a big guy who hardly spoke at all; he had a club and axe

They had the unfortunate duty of each carrying a huge, 100 pound bundle of firewood. As
their leaders -- and not part of Norwood's command -- we didn't have to...

We set out, with the goal of reaching the Plinth by nightfall.

The men were really quite disreputable: the bottom of Norwood's barrel, I could tell. I
doubt the Prelate would have been able to bear the sight of them. But we marched for a
cause worthy of the Saint's blessing.

Brag and I had to talk with Elijesse a bit about how you lead men of this type.

By late afternoon, all eyes were glad to spot the Plinth in the distance. Not too much
later we reached it. Nothing stands upon it now, but on its north face there is a plaque,
green with age. On it is written the following, in High Draconic (good thing I, Corwin was
along to read it):
			Kenobin Astelarte Demarch
				Duke of the Red
		Here he had victory over the Goblin Host
		Long shall his hand remain over them

Brag had to argue a bit with Cargan about camping there -- wolves had been by too recently.
So we set off in a more northeasterly direction, and camped not too much later. The night
passed uneventfully.

[Ed. - Spring Week 13: Day 3]
The next morning, the men complained greatly of soreness. I don't blame them, but it is
their lot -- the lot they signed up for with Norwood. The likes of them would scarcely be
welcome in Keeptown, I'm afraid, so I think they're fortunate to have such good employment.
That said, it's sure a risky life...

Brag showed off his great strength by helping each lift their packs -- but they weren't
very appreciative. They grumbled quite a bit more today, and walked more slowly. It wasn't
the greater haziness or the slight incline, I'm sure. Just their natures...

Around noon, we spotted the Cradle Woods in the far distance...they seemed to grow closer
for a while, then eventually receded as we continued on. How far is the ancient battlefield?

We camped, and I approached each man that night, and offered some of the Saint's solace
[Ed. - One Cure Minor Wounds and a Healing Check on each] 

When night fell, we heard the howl of a wolf in the distance, but nothing more. Since we
weren't at our designated campsite, but I felt we should make an effort, I borrowed an
axe from Brag, and St. Cuthbert granted me the Light of Day to confer upon it [Ed. - 
Daylight Spell] I left it a ways north of us. Nothing bothered us that night.

[Ed. - Spring Week 13: Day 4]
In the morning, the first thing Brag did was go get his axe.

Then we made a mistake: we decided to be "nice" to the men. Brag took a turn at carrying
the bundle of one of the men. Even though Cargan warned us, well, it led to some
bickering and then a fight between the men! Cargan had to knock Brinnan out.

Eventually, though, we started making some progress, and by the late afternoon, got much
closer. 

The men built a huge pyre a ways off; meanwhile, Brag and Elijesse went off on some
scouting. I used the "sight" of the Saint to look for traces of magic. I also laid on
hands upon Brinnan [Cure Light Wounds], and all the others [Cure Minor Wounds].

Again the night passed quietly, most likely due to the huge fire burning nearby.

[Ed. - Spring Week 13: Day 5]
Under Brag's guidance, we decided to head more south and east. We managed to get a move on
even though I could see the men getting increasingly dissatisfied and edgy.

In the afternoon, after much trudging, suddenly we realized we must be in the battlefields.

It just had this extra desolate look to it, and there were scars in the
ground, and low "hillocks" that if you stared at long enough, would form into defensive
walls, etc. It was eery. It made you forget all the grumbling and complaining the men
had bothered us all with that day...

Then we noticed weapon fragments and shards here and there, bones, various remnants.

Again we had the men build a pyre nearby, and Brag and Elijesse went scouting.

When they came back, they reported finding a recent campfire, a big one. With that, we
decided to move our campsite a bit, so we did.

While we were setting up camp, Brag went back to actually light the pyre.

He was gone longer than we thought, and Foxus claimed he heard a horse neigh back out
there amidst the fields of battle -- horses?!?

When Brag got back, he related a very creepy thing:
	--as he was trying to light the fire, it wouldn't, and wouldn't
	--then he thought he heard a flag snapping in the wind, then nothing, then again
	--still the fire wouldn't light
	--then he thought he saw a booted foot standing just at the edge of his vision
	--but when he stood, drawing Wolfslayer ("schwing!") he saw nothing
	--he resumed trying to light the fire...thought he heard a war bugle
	--and then he saw an arm slowly reach up from behind a divot...blood dripping down
	--again Brag drew his sword, and watched as the arm fell slowly back down
	--at this he decided to return to camp for fuel, passing the divot -- there was nothing!

Upon hearing this, I told the group about Undead, about what might lie out there, in the
dark. And told them not to fear, for the Saint has granted me the power to challenge
the foul creatures, and perhaps even to destroy them!

Brag took some oil and lantern back with him, and got the fire burning. (Or so he said;
it turns out in our unease and fear, he may have decided to to light it, but said so, 
and we were all too distracted to care.)

[Ed. note - no one can remember! Gavin says/jokes:

I believe the conversation was something like:

		"Did you light the fire"
		"Yes"
		"I don't see it"
		"It's foggy"
		"...oh"
		"Right, PC huddle"

end note]

While the night passed uneventfully, I'm sure we all shivered through the night, worrying
about the horrors, imagined and not, that lay too near us.

[Ed. - Spring Week 13: Day 6]
This morning the men were packed almost before we arose! And their spirits were
surprisingly lighter than we'd expect. But at least they were grumbling less.

We convinced them to build another pyre near that campground, and then the three of us
headed away, telling the men we were scouting some more -- but really it was to discuss
our situation and goals, outside of their earshot.

Suddenly, in the distance, Elijesse noticed that there was a fight going on back at the
campground. Brag took off running, while she and I walked back (I don't move very fast...)

When we got there, Brag had gotten them all to throw down their weapons. Foxus and Brinnan
were dead. Cargan and Jalspert stood together, and a ways off the Northerner stood alone.

I checked everyone's wounds -- including those of the dead, and then really lit into those
who remained. I think I gave 'em a great lecture -- but then I noticed no one was paying
any attention!

Elijesse, not surprisingly, saw them first, then everyone else, and finally Corwin: a 
group of 10-15 men (humans), marching by, from the north towards the Stockade and Keeptown.

We could see they were leading a prisoner, of smallish stature.

We ran to meet them: it was one of Norwood's other groups, and they had captured a goblin.
A goblin shaman or something, apparently. The leader, Wingar, is quite proud to have 
taken him alive. The poor goblin has its face painted white, which is odd. Wingar says
they found him north of the battlefield area, alone. He feels we should all return to
the Stockade.

Our group joins theirs -- but only after we dump all the wood, and set it alight. It's so
big it should stay alight into the night...

As our now much larger group prepared to camp, we learned it was their "wizard," Erlick,
who found the goblin. Apparently that group of men hadn't given him much respect, bookish
that he is, but now they do. Ah, such camaraderie...

Wingar gave Brag permission to question the prisoner. Later, Brag reported to us what
he learned; the goblin said things like:
	"They are not of my Clan" (looking disgusted)
	"Others will come" (looking at the sky)
	"I have the Mark of Bone -- the Mark of the Chosen" (seemed afraid)

That night, though, we lost the poor goblin, the damned, cursed goblin. We pieced it all
together the next morning:

Elijesse heard it first: deep into the night she woke up. Listening to the guard, listening
to the wind -- she heard the goblin catch its breath, and then scream, wail, horribly!

Chaos ensued. Soon we realized that something had attacked the goblin. A darkness embraced
the goblin, translucent, with tendrils reaching out to touch it. Dark, red eyes stared down
upon the goblin, which was clearly rigid with fear and pain. It soon fell to the ground,
clearly dead. I attempted to repulse the Undead creature, but nothing happened [Turn 
attempt #1 of 3]

Each of us woke, stood, gathered weapons, and charged in, Wingar rallying everyone to
fight. Soon, though, we realized we faced a Wraith! I felt naked without my armor, indeed,
though in truth, such things pay armor no heed. Yet I held forth my Holy Symbol, and called
upon the Saint to blast this creature -- to no avail. [Turn attempt #2 of 3 - uh oh]

Erlick brought forth those same magical lights that Tyrvail used to do, and Brag dealt the
creature a tremendous blow -- only to feel his axe harm nothing.

The tide of the battle was at the change, as the men realized they could not touch it. And
then the worst occurred: the goblin, dead as bone, began to sit up, and smote Wingar
a terrible blow -- I could just imagine what this leader of men was feeling, as his life-
force was drawn away. The goblin was now a wight!

I called one last time upon the Saint, praying for guidance, and this time felt his power
surge through me, the Holy Symbol flaring bright with the Light of the Saint. The two
creatures fled into the night. [Whew! Wow! Turn Attempt #3 of 3...]

I rallied everyone to me, and checked wounds.

As you can imagine, the night's long darkness seemed to stretch ahead infinitely, as we
huddled together. Several times Brag spotted the undead goblin approach, from different
directions, but it fled.

Later, suddenly, it charged in. The men scattered in terror. Courageously, Brag and Wingar
drew their weapons, and charged towards it. I invoked the Club of Cuthbert, and tried to
smite it.

The wight went after Wingar, while I and Brag showered it with blows. The undead creature
turned on Brag, and struck him most terribly, consuming some of his lifeforce.

Wingar and some of the men kept trying to hit it -- Erlick stepped forward, and cast a
spell -- only to lose his nerve at the last moment. Things looked dire.

I decided, unarmored as I was, that I must step forward, and fight its undead, draining
evil with the Power of the Saint -- surely the force that heals shall harm it. Yet, I, too
could not keep my mind on Cuthbert, and I failed. The club smote it though.

Finally, Brag went into Rage, and finally we laid enough steel upon it to destroy it.

Now completely unnerved and afeared of the Wraith, we sat a terrible vigil until dawn's 
light came.

[Ed. - Spring Week 13: Day 7]
We marched all day, hurrying, and reached the stockade as night fell. I put the blessings
of the Saint upon Brag, and counseled Wingar, and we hoped for the best.

At least we made it back.

[Ed. - Da DM writes:]
After game #87 (bonfires on the moors, summer 1/1) Corwin returned to keep-town
with the warrior Wingar [NPC] to speak to the Prelate and beseech healing on
his behalf.  Feeling that urge once again to be rid of the company of men, Brag
stalked off into the wilds to release his wild side [and level]		

[Please see Game 002]