As explained last time, a recording was indeed lost between this one and the previous one. Our heroes had ventured deeper into the cavern, fought a giant horde of kobolds, and then ultimately battled Langdedrosa Cyanwrath the half-dragon and his accompanying berserkers in a PHENOMENALLY deadly fight – deadly in that it left both Eben and Krixix dead after they botched their death checks. However, they did defeat the half-dragon and Thalynmar claimed the deathblow with a mighty beheading!

DM: You had cleared out the cave in which you found yourself, after the tragic loss of two of your companions.
Maldrake: NOOOOOOOO! THEY WERE MY CLOSE COMPANIONS!
Thalynmar: “I didnae understand yer powers. They frightened me. But ye didnae deserve this.”
DM: Eben. Eben. You are floating in a dark void. This is not the afterlife you expected.
Eben: Is there a little halo around my head?
DM: NO!
Eben: “Gosh, there’s a long scaley road here!”
DM: It feels painfully cold, and yet from behind you, you feel warmth.
Eben: …what’s behind me?
DM: You turn, and see, as if both right next to you and at the same time a thousand miles away like a sun in the distant sky, a great dragon. Scales of shining platinum.
Eben: Fing Fang Foom.
DM: No. When he speaks, it’s more like the bass rumbles are imprinting themselves in your mind. “Once and once more may I help you. You must stop Her. We will meet once more, when you return to the darkness. Beyond this no aid can be given. She moves, and only in this small way may I interfere. Return! And the dwarf you call Thalynmar… bid him remember.” The dragon opens his jaws, and a great corona of light engulfs you. When you pick up Eben’s body, you feel a twitch!
Maldrake: ‘That shit’s movin’, dude!’
Krixix: ‘Nerves, dude. Dead bodies sometimes do that.’
Thalynmar: “It’s probably rigor mortis.”
DM: Twitch.
Thalynmar: “Ah, that’s.. pretty good rigor mortis.”
DM: A strange semblance… not necessarily of life, but of animation, flows into your limbs once more.
Krixix: KILL IT!
Eben: You open your eyes.
Maldrake: We forcibly close his eyes.
Krixix: You are so lucky I’m not trying to kill you. “IT’S UNDEAD!” Seriously, you guys are okay with the fact that he just came back from the dead? He’s rising as the undead!
Thalynmar: He twitched a little bit, his eyes open, we think it’s rigor mortis.
DM: Your eyes are closed again.
Maldrake: We haven’t seen a dead body before, this could be normal!
Thalynmar: (miming killing Eben)
DM: Welp, dead again. “I said once more can I help you, God damn it!”
Eben: “Put me down, Thalynmar.”
Thalynmar: “All right, that’s not rigor mortis.”
Maldrake: Um... Religion!
Eben: I come back to you now to turn the tide…
DM: Eben the White.
Eben: What did the dragon bid me tell him?
DM: REMEMBER! God damn, it was one word, how did you forget?

Eben’s words awaken something in Thalynmar, and with a great gesture he points at Krixix, Light shoots out from him, and not knowing how, he raises the halfling! The power fades, leaving Thalynmar confused and troubled, yet somehow warm…

Krixix: “Did I miss anything?”
Thalynmar: “No.”

The group reassembles, and with their mission done (they had found and smashed some black dragon eggs), they make haste for Greenest. The trip is uneventful, and they are escorted up to meet Governor Nighthill again.

DM: “You’re all back. This is splendid! I admit I had feared I wouldn’t see any of you again.”
Thalynmar: “It was a close call.”
Raven: “A VERY close call.”
DM: “The monk was wise to put his faith in you. He asked me to let you know that before he left, he acquired for you horses and riding gear so you could speed your journey to Elturel to meet him. Go down to the stables, it’s all taken care of and prepared.”

They return some of the town’s goods that they found, and then the governor introduces them to an old colleague of Leosin’s, and coincidentally, another player character.

Vivianne: “My name is Vivianne Greenberry. It’s an honor to meet you.”
Krixix: Are you female or male?
Vivianne: I’m female.
Krixix: All riiiight.
Vivianne: I’m a halfling.
Krixix:All riiiiiight!
Eben: Thalynmar throws a hammer at you.

They take a much-needed long rest, and in the morning go gather up their new horses and tack. In the saddlebags they find their reward, 300 gold!

Krixix: “I’ll take care of this! Everybody got 10—“
Thalynmar: (slapping him)
DM: ‘I brought ya inta this world, I can take ye out!’
Thalynmar: I was thinking something like that.

The six day trip to Elturel is uneventful, although Krixix is nearly left behind when he tries to buy poisons. On the evening of the fifth day they see a great light emanating from the north, which seems unpleasant to Eben.

Thalynmar: ‘Hey guys, braaaaain—I mean, look!’
Eben: I’m not a zombie.
Maldrake: You see a very small, delicious child. His head succulent…
DM: On the sixth day you ride over a hill and find yourself approaching the city of Elturel. The large orderly city on the river Chianta, usually a trading city is the best way to describe it, for it governs much of the commerce that passes along the river. A great magical light, the very one you have been seeing since the day before, hovers above it. This, then, is your destination.
Thalynmar: “I can’t wait to get into a feather bed tonight.”
DM: Well, you reached it in midday, you’ve got a ways to go to get to that unless you’re lazy.
Thalynmar: “A bit.”
Eben: “Feather bed. Does not a dwarf prefer solid stone?”
Thalynmar: “Aye, we do enjoy our comforts now and then.”
Eben: “Perhaps we can find you a bathtub full of beer.”
Thalynmar: “Oh, don’t play with my emotions like that!”
Eben: “I can’t help it, my perspective is changed.” I can’t quite change this character into Christopher Lee because that voice is taken already, but it’s intriguing.
DM: That’s okay, just get close and we’ll give you a little leeway.
Krixix: No pun intended, I hope.
DM: IT WAS VERY MUCH INTENDED, GOD DAMN YOU!
Thalynmar: It was the DM, of course it was!

At least some of the players have taken to keeping notes whenever this DM runs a game, so they recall who to seek out: Ontharr Frume, a paladin who Leosin knows. They head to the gates, finding some bored-looking guards there, who give them directions to the Pair of Black Antlers Tavern where the Order of the Gauntlet, which Frume leads, is headquartered. The encounter with the guards is phenomenally nonconfrontational. Krixix demands drow poison from Lualyrr.

DM: It’s easy enough to follow the guard’s directions and the sign for the Pair of Black Antlers is not subtle in the slightest. It’s in fact a good three feet wide, extending out into the street and brushing the tavern itself.
Thalynmar: Well, my Wisdom does suck.
DM: If your Wisdom sucks, you have a hard time noticing it. If your INTELLIGENCE sucks—
Thalynmar: Oh, it’s even worse.
Eben: Ah, the good old days. “I don’t know what’s going on, I’m a terrible administrator!”
DM: Thalynmar stares at the sign, brow furrowed. You can only imagine what deep and somber thoughts are going through his mind.
Eben: “Thalynmar. Wake up.”
DM: ‘Remember.’
Eben: “Remember! I mean…”
Thalynmar: Boom! The buck they got this off comes back to life. It’s ANGRY.
DM: You head into the tavern and find it a brightly lit and very well-appointed place. Wide, every last inch of it covered in antlers. Gaston sits – no.
Maldrake: Welcome to the Positive Energy Palace!
DM: Immediately your eyes are drawn to the fireplace, where two men sit in conversation. One is your friend Leosin. The other is a broad and portly man of THIS description!

The DM shows them the picture, though he has to explain Frume is not a dwarf, just an enthusiast. Leosin swiftly greets them, and when they explain a little of their adventures, Frume practically steamrolls them all with personality.

DM: “Why that’s brilliant! Ha! It’s about time we heard some good news on that score. Welcome! Welcome to the Pair of Black Antlers. I’m certain Leosin has told you about me, I’ve certainly heard a great deal about you!” (to Vivianne) “Except for you, I haven’t heard about you, but I’ll fix that. The name’s Ontharr Frume.”
Thalynmar: “A pleasure to meet you.”
DM: Strength check!
Thalynmar: That’s a 22.
DM: Seeing the strength in your grip he meets you with… oddly, equal force, that’s a decent roll. Your muscles strain against each other before he relaxes his grip and with a hearty laugh, slaps you on the back. “I like you!”
Lualyrr: “I’ll kill you last!”
DM: “I’ll heal you first!”

Introductions go around, with Frume giving Eben a careful appraisal before resuming his jaunty mien and stepping over to the bar so the bartender can slide him a beer.

Krixix: 34 on my Sleight of Hand! Yoink! “Barkeep, he’s still waiting on his beer!”
Eben: Roll for initiative!
Thalynmar: “Oh that’s not good, never mess with a man’s beer.”
DM: “You know what this calls for, when there’s a dispute over ownership of beer?”
Eben: Gambling?
Krixix: Who can drink the most?
Lualyrr: DRINKING CONTEST!
DM: (sitting down, then planting his elbow)
Thalynmar: Battleship.

Krixix delivers a bizarrely good Strength check, but Frume beats him by one. While they struggle against each other, Leosin drifts over to the rest of the group.

DM: “I must make it clear that impressing Ontharr is of the highest priority. He is a skilled and powerful man who commands many resources. Though it seems you’re doing quite well, and he finds your strength commendable. Still…”

Frume defeats Krixix at lasts, then they toast each other and drink. Eben drops a telepathic message to Thalynmar.

DM: A black and malefic voice speaks in your head.
Thalynmar: (spittakes)
DM: Leosin’s like, ‘why?!’
Eben: “Master Dwarf, forgive the intrusion. Pardon my forgetfulness, I find myself unduly stressed of late, but for what were we to make contact with this blowhard for?”

The group, despite Leosin’s words of literally a minute ago, takes a moment to try to figure out why they’re talking to Frume. Maldrake, meanwhile, tries to work out the mechanics of what exactly Eben IS now, leading the latter to vow to eldritch blast him for meddling.

DM: Before you all quite realize it, Ontharr has you all seated around a table, and he’s gone off on a long, rambling story he really seems to enjoy telling.
Thalynmar: “How’d I get in a seat?”
DM: About how he and his men went up against a group of bugbears and routed them across the countryside, and ended up chasing them for three days straight, trying to catch them before they went to ground. He manages to make it entertaining despite the fact that it’s not that interesting of a story. Because he’s a paladin and it’s Charisma.
Krixix: 25 on my Stealth to slip away.
DM: You’re out!
Krixix: I want to go play dice with some guys on the other end of the bar.

Frume invites the heroes to come show his men a trick or too, and so out they go to a training yard where several soldiers form up at his command.

DM: “Now then!” He grabs one of the shoulders of one of the young women and pulls her forward. “This here is Maiea, she’s probably my most skilled recruit. So who wants to go two rounds with her?”
Lualyrr: “I will!”
DM: “Step on up, lass!” He tosses you a wooden sword. Roll for initiative!

The recruit acts first, and strikes Lualyrr for trivial damage with these weak weapons, but Lualyrr returns fire with a massive blow to her head.

Eben: How close am I standing to Frume?
DM: He’s right with you all. Why? Picking his pocket?
Eben: NO!
DM: Ontharr steps up and slaps you across the back, hard. “You see? A perfect strike! Not fazed by the attack, even though she took a graze from it, she immediately retaliated with maximum force, taking advantage of the moment her opponent’s guard was down after the strike. Now I don’t recommend getting hit as a way to create openings for yourself, but as you continue on in combat, you WILL get hit, and this is a perfect way to take advantage of that. Remember, composure wins battles.”
Krixix: Constant vigilance!

Frume, while approving of Lualyrr’s skill, sets them to drill rather than fight these maniacs directly. Lualyrr walks among them, offering pointers, and Thalynmar soon joins in. Frume approaches Eben.

Eben: Uh-oh.
DM: With a cheerful smile on his face, he lowers his voice. “The light is not painful to you, so you cannot be truly undead, but still, I wish to know. Why are you here?”
Eben: “I have returned to the land of the living with a mission. One mission only.” And also to make Thalynmar remember.
Maldrake: The fifth of November? I’m sorry, it’s been in my head the entire time…
DM: He reaches out a hand to you, but does not touch you. Sort of gives you a… nonverbally asking. With your begrudging consent, he lays his hand upon your head, and bows his head in prayer. He withdraws it, nods its head, and returns to his men.
Eben: Did he just bless me? Not the spell, but did he just pray for my soul?
DM: He was probably praying for guidance.
Eben: If it makes him feel better.

The training session breaks up, and Frume heads off to take care of other business. The party, delighted, at last gets to spend their money! Thalynmar discovers his AC has been wrong this entire time. Krixix goes to send a message to his contact with the criminal underworld! This is low-level and not in 3rd edition, so shopping time is remarkably brief – as these things go.

Krixix: So, caltrops.
Eben: Ha ha! They still suck! It’s all you need to know!

They return to the tavern in the evening, and one of Frume’s squires escorts them back into a private room. Leosin, Frume, and wine are waiting for them, but Frume looks serious indeed.

DM: “My friends, we have important business to discuss. At this point you know almost as much as we do, and thanks to you we know twice as much as we did a tenday ago. Something rotten is afoot. We have no formal organization to oppose these rascals, not yet – we’re working on that. We need people like you who know how to fight, when to fight, and when to keep their heads down and observe.”
Eben: Know when to hold them, know when to fold them…
DM: “We can’t promise you anything more than long days full of danger and stress… but what could be better than that, huh?”
Eben: Your bargaining posture is highly dubious…

Leosin explains that he’s a member of the famous Forgotten Realms organization called the Harpers. Frume is a member of the Order of the Gauntlet, one which values valor and the struggle against evil in a more lawful capacity. The speech is a bit of a “this is a Forgotten Realms history” thing, as it winds into the Cult of the Dragon.

DM: “Unfortunately, we can’t offer pay—“
Thalynmar: You see Krixix run off. Just a cloud in the shape of Krixix.
DM: ‘So long!’

The two organizations both offer the PCs a chance to join, and ask them to continue their adventure either way – by following the shipment the cultists have launched to Baldur’s Gate. Which everyone knows by name, thanks to the video games. The cultists will make their shipment a part of a caravan on its northern side, giving the PCs an option to infiltrate the caravan and follow it!

DM: “Most likely, skilled adventurers like you will be able to find work as guards. It’s easy enough, I do have a few contacts up there who can put you in position for that and put in a good word for you to those who wish to hire you. The only quirk of this is that we’re going to have to send you ahead rather quickly. We’ll send you by ship.”
Eben: Mm!
DM: No!
Thalynmar: How many adventurers are on the ship…
Maldrake: OH SWEET JESUS!

The players furiously attempt to join the Emerald Enclave, since the DM indicated they weren’t hiring and weren’t even represented. Krixis, Vivianne and Lualyrr join the Harpers.

Maldrake: I put the pin on.
DM: Stop joining the Harpers! Join the Order, he says!
Thalynmar: “I am no paladin, but I do know the law.”
Maldrake: (giggling) The law!
Thalynmar: “I am the law. If the Order of the Gauntlet would have a dwarf…”

Maldrake and Thalynmar sign up for the Order, although Frume has to explain that no, Maldrake doesn’t have to be blatant about his allegiance.

DM: “You don’t have to be obvious, oy!”
Thalynmar: Oy vey.
DM: “You meshuggenahs!”
Maldrake: What? That’s a dead religion!
DM: “And I killed it! You all will be next if you keep giving me mouth!”

Frume and Eben discuss how temporary his joining an order would be, given his condition, though Frume tells him not to give up hope for the future. The discuss gets weird.

DM: Who do you think the Great Old One you worship is? Cruroar, epic level. He’s just sitting out there, he’s accumulated so many titles he knows not his own name, and deep in the voids of madness he sings, desperately trying to remember who he was. “My name is as common as dirt, yet I cannot call it to mind! Kingslayer, Ravager of Souls, Madman…”

The night passes, and the PCs end up on a boat with appropriate music.

DM: I am going to read to you guys the best sentence you will ever hear out of this module.
Eben: Nothing happens on the boat.
DM: “The trip down the river to Baldur’s Gate is uneventful.”

They reach Baldur’s Gate, that renowned trade nexus of the Sword Coast, which the DM describes from the module in glowing terms.

Eben: Is the innkeeper having trouble with rats in the cellar?
DM: That was Candlekeep. You dick.

They enter Baldur’s Gate and go looking for one Acken Selebon, who operates out of the Blackgate District. Finding the warehouse and office that meet his description, they knock and enter as bidden.

DM: “And who might you souls be?” (hearing the feedback) “Boy, this voice doesn’t work so well on the microphone…”
Krixix: “Travelers.”
Thalynmar: “Travelers looking for work.”
DM: “Hmm. If you’re travelers, what kind of work are you looking for?”
Thalynmar: “Guard duty.”
DM: “Guard duty. Mmmmm.” He appraises you all thoughtfully.
Maldrake: (unable to contain his incredulity at the DM’s gestures any more) Is he stretching taffy?!
DM: He’s measuring rope!
Thalynmar: He said this.

The DM explains this makes sense, while Eben howls and slaps the table, unable to control himself. Acken attempts to dismiss them, but then a subtle hint reminds them to mention Ontharr.

DM: “Well why didn’t you say so? Come in, come in!”
Eben: Quit making the Blazing Sword. (giggling) Stop making taffy! Stop pounding in the butt with your own butt. Okay, I got it under control.

He didn’t. Some time passes before control is, in fact, gotten under. Acken tells them he can give them a recommendation to those who do the hiring of guards, which should do well by them. They simply need to find out what caravan the cult is traveling on. Until then, they should enjoy the city!

Eben: “What of the city would you recommend enjoying?”
DM: “I’d advise avoiding the Upper City except for the marketplace. It’s generally not worth the hassle to go there and endure the snootiness.” (pausing) “People constantly asking if you’ve been to the Cloud District, as I understand it.”
Maldrake: Shut up! I was trying to hold back!

Acken suspects they’ll see the cultists within the next couple of days. As Thalynmar asks, he gives them directions to a place to stay.

DM: “They call it the Crimson Sword. There’s a quite a tale behind it, but it’s boring, don’t ask. I know, I’ve heard it. Seven times now, and those are seven hours of my life I will never get back.”

CAROUSING! CAROUSING TO THE POINT OF DEBAUCHERY! Krixix ends up in a whirlwind romance, aka a one night stand that ended amicably – it was the best he could hope for. Lualyrr, as always, scores “legendary gambling success” – as, strangely, do Raven and Thalynmar. Maldrake and Vivianne break even.

Krixix: I got laid, that’s all that matters.
DM: The next morning, Krixix realizes he got nothing he could keep.
Krixix: The next morning, Krixix realizes he’s got this weird itch.
DM: Krixix came back from the dead and was eager to experience living.
Thalynmar: “Why do I have this card with a V on it?”
DM: Krixix wakes up short a kidney.

The DM calls for Perception checks, which naturally Lualyrr renders totally moot.

DM: You all recognize, as you step out onto the street, a familiar face. Someone is passing by on a palanquin, being carried by several people, and though the curtains are drawn, you recognize a familiar half-elf as one of the bearers.
Lualyrr: It’s THAT bastard!
Krixix: As one of the bearers!?
DM: Yes. The last time you saw this guy, he was being pummeled severely senseless to be used as a decoy.

Krixix promptly trips the dude, subtly, and down he goes! The palanquin is jostled, and they spot the familiar black scales of the half-dragon they last saw back at the cultist camp. The half-elf gets a kick to the ass as they move on.

Krixix: This dude is gonna be our bitch the entire game! Every time he turns up I want us to do something to him!
Thalynmar: He’s kind of a danger to us now, he might recognize us.

The palanquin enters Acken’s equipage, and they have the information they need at last! This means the group has to sign onto the caravan, as noted before. Since the caravan is going to Waterdeep, the caravan will be large – so all the PCs need to do is go apply! They contemplate splitting up, while Krixix attempts to use his criminal connections to pave his way for him.

Krixix: “I found a corrupt caravan master!”
DM: Just saying it doesn’t make it true!
Krixix: Well how do I find one?! Do I roll?!
DM: Unfortunately, in this case, although it was a good idea and I give you credit for it, your contact won’t be able to deliver. All right, shut up and listen. Heading over to the caravansary, there are going to be many options for you to choose. Listen up because I’m only saying this—
Thalynmar: Twice.
DM: Fuck you, Thanlymar. Of the wagons, you see: two wagons sit closely together with a faint reek as of uncured hides. A man sitting outside them, whittling away, is large, boorish, oafish, unshaven, generally unclean, and looks like he should be radiating stench lines. Nearby a half-elf is rolling keg after keg of what is undoubtedly ale and beer onto the wagon, whistling as he works.
Eben: “Way to reinforce your stereotype.”
DM: It’s a half-elf!
Eben: I didn’t say I was discouraging…
DM: An oddly ornate caravan sits full of exotic wood. Nearby a dwarf is directing teamsters who are hauling vats of oil, like perfume, onto his wagon. Nearby another wagon sits, shut up, locked tight, with a brooding gargoyle tethered to it with a slim silver chain, glaring at all who pass. The merchant, for his own part, simply sits and stares.
Eben: At least it’s chained up.
DM: Nearby, a pair of elves are rooting through a trunk, making sure all the ornate wooden figurines inside are well-packed for the journey. A cheerful-looking man, whistling in pure delight, rolls another bolt of silk onto his own wagon. Bizarrely, the next wagon you see is full of chirping and tweeting. You see, as you watch, a large bird bursts from the back of it, in colors you can barely imagine, with a beak that stretches out to here. It sits on the ground, looks around rather stupidly—
Thalynmar: And makes a majestic call. “Blawyaywuagha!;
DM: Follow your nose!
Krixix: “It’s getting away!” I throw my dagger at it!
DM: A man bursts out of the wagon, seizes the bird, and hauls it back in.
Thalynmar: Taking a bite out of it as he goes.
Krixix: Have some of the Colonel’s chicken!
DM: Nearby a cheerful-looking fellow smokes a pipe outside of his own wagon, though you don’t know what’s in it, and of course, the cultists are at the end, having just rolled up in their own wagons. You can see them even now, as the weary half-elf explains to yet another traveler that no, they won’t be selling passage on the wagons.
Thalynmar: I am going to walk up to the dwarf with the scented oil. And say, “Hello, kinsman.”
Eben: “Ach.”
Thalynmar: “Ach.”
DM: “Ach. We’re stereotypes, aren’t we, lad.”
Thalynmar: “Aye. Listen. I think you might want some sentinels for your scented oils.”
Eben: Oh. My. God.
DM: Make a Persuasion check.
Thalynmar: What the heck? Oh that’s not good.
DM: “What. I did not put out advertisements for a jokester. I put out advertisements for a guard.”
Thalynmar: “I was tryin’ to make light of it.”
DM: “I’m not lookin’ for a lighthearted man, I’m lookin’ for a man who can protect me investment. This is me money we’re talkin’ about here. I don’t intend to see me money wasted. I don’t intend to see me money squandered. I don’t intend to see me money stolen. I don’t intend to see me money ruined. This is going to be me money. I’m going to have so much…”
Eben: Hee hee hee, this dwarf is McDuck! Scrooge McDwarf, we’re going to guard his money!
Thalynmar: “Excuse the jocularity, but I am the right dwarf for the job.”
DM: “Let’s see what you can do! Let’s see if you’re worth me money!”
Eben: Hee hee hee!
DM: “I didn’t get all me money by givin’ it away to panhandlers, stragglers, people who cannae earn it! I intend ta see ya work for it!”

Thalynmar makes a mighty show of strength, which impressed the dwarf enough so that he hires Thalynmar as a bodyguard. Eben deploys Mage Hand and uses it to make a show of stealing his purse, and makes an excellent Intimidate roll.

DM: “I’ll give ya the same as him if ya give me me money back!”

The dwarf wanders of, muttering about his money nonstop. Maldrake goes off to sign up with the bird wagon, which is impossible to hear because Vivianne refuses to stop babbling directly into the microphone the entire time – although the bird merchant launches into an extremely long tirade about the trade laws of Baldur’s Gate at speed, then finishes up by glaring at him and Lualyrr. Maldrake offers his services as a discount and talks himself up. The DM calls for an Insight check.

DM: You sense he seems faintly disappointed that you didn’t argue with him about the point, but nevertheless he looks you up and down. “Hmm, you see a stalwart soldiering man. References?”
Maldrake: (pausing)
DM: That guy?
Thalynmar: Acken Selebon.
Maldrake: “Acken Selebon.”

Maldrake gets hired as a sergeant to oversee the other bodyguards, and then Krixix and Raven head off to the gargoyle wagon.

Krixix: “Afternoon, Master Driver! We happen to be moving in the same direction as you, and we’re looking for work. I see that you have this powerful gargoyle, but if you have this you have something much worth protecting, and we’d like to offer our services to help with that.”

A long silence.

Krixix: “What say you?”

A very long silence.

Krixix: “Excellent. My friends and I will be happy to join you. What are your terms?”

A profoundly long silence.

Krixix: “Careful, we might be willing to agree to those!”
DM: (somewhat singong) “Brave fellow, what do you think you can provide for meee?”
Krixix: “Protection, safety, and an extra set of eyes to make sure that nothing happens to your wares!”
DM: “Why not give me a sample, or a little example?”
Krixix: “I’d be happy to! In fact… I bet I’d be able to sneak past your gargoyle without him being able to see me.”
DM: “Ha ha ha, we’ll never find out because you’re sure not going in my wagon, let’s try something else, shall we? I’m not interested in a sneak thief, I’m interested in a skilled fighter! Your friend looks like he has thews to spare, but you look like you’ve got nothing to looooose!”

Krixix rolls Persuasion coming up with a 14, and gets an offer for a basic guard at 5 gold a tenday, and the guard challenges Raven to put on a show!

Eben: He’s gonna show off Fable-style. “Ha ha!” “Hey.”
Thalynmar: (dancing and clapping)
DM: Well, now you’re married.

Raven gets hired on to protect the merchant from Krixix (at twice the halfling’s pay) – after which the merchant abruptly goes completely silent again.

Krixix: …19 on my Stealth to slip away from his gaze.

Vivianne tries to turn on the charm for the gargoyle guy, but he only mutters that the wagon is full – which was a sad waste of her natural 20. The bird guy tries to start an argument with Lualyrr about the merits of armor, which she foolishly gets into for a moment.

DM: “Oh, so you’re saying they’re all masochists? Armor is the tool of the masochist?”
Lualyrr: “Sometimes. I’m not a masochist myself but I don’t like wearing bruises.”
DM: “Then you shouldn’t put yourself in a situation where you GET bruises!”
Lualyrr: “Some of us… our talents lie in one area, and we can’t all…”
DM: “All right, what are your talents, let’s see them!”
Lualyrr: (making a very weird noise)
Thalynmar: She makes weird noises.
Lualyrr: No, I pull my sword!
Krixix: That’s what your sword sounds like? That’s like ‘Bowstring’! ‘Sword’!

Lualyrr gets a position on his caravan, but having learned her lesson, grunts noncommittally at the guy until her lack of any counterargument makes him run out of steam, and he wanders away.

Thalynmar: He’s got no one to discuss this with. Because no one cares.

Vivianne… decides to go talk to the cultists! And rolls a natural 20 AGAIN!

Eben: It’s in the blood!
Maldrake: She’s got the Touch!

She gets a generous bodyguard-level offer as some of the others have, if she agrees to use her magic to aid them. Naturally, she agrees. The group now has a journey of 750 miles ahead of them, for a total of two months or so of travel. They will spend most of their nights camping on the road, but occasionally in roadside inns or hostelries. But the most dangerous part will be the first part, traveling through the Fields of the Dead… Next time.