Session Notes
I am afraid, loyal reader, that my circumstance has changed, and not for the better. Not only is the claret exhausted, but the quality of lodging has taken a drastic turn for the worst. One of Darkmoor’s benighted noble class, in the spirit of arts benefaction, had opened their home… or at least their cellars to yours truly, but given the troubles has reluctantly withdrawn support. What times are these, friends?
It is I, Buck Headstrong, your fearless chronicler and the greatest Sage Darkmoor has ever known! I know you are eager to learn details about my unfortunate experience vis-a-vis accommodations. More of that anon, firstly I must turn things over to my correspondent Fluffy. I have heard from many of you concerns that all of this activity in the marsh might have resulted in injury to our black squirrel friend. Relax dear reader: 1) Fluffy is fine; 2) Fluffy is not a squirrel and, as I remind you time and time again, 3) Fluffy is anything but friendly. Without further ado:
The Circle encountered, on the Old Port Road, that former Dark Cloak Lucretia, hiding in the growth. She had, she reported, after hearing the death throes of the ancient Shambler, returned to the fens and recovered the mounts the Circle had left while invading the Moat House. The bandit gang had, for reasons unknown, burnt the Carriage House to the ground and, based on the plume of smoke emerging from the swamps, apparently performed the same act at the Hay Barn. Now convinced that the heroes might have a legitimate chance at defeating the Gauntlet, Larrson, the sorceress she knows as Vindurain and their murderous crew, Lucretia offered her support in making another assault on the Moat House.
The Circle, now mounted, their numbers swollen, made for the Moat House via the trail through the swamps, only to be immediately stopped by a gang of bullywug ambushers. The lizardmen in their dapper attire once again made the Circle appreciate the ferocity of the swamp-dwellers. Led by a Bully Bog Sage, the natty mudmen killed three of the horses, felled two of the Circle and very nearly closed the book on Baron Darkmoor’s attempts to reclaim the Moat House. The Bog Sage immediately unleashed his famous, feared sphere of vitriol to set the right tone. In the end, the Bog Sage had to flee (hop) for his web-toed life while the bodies of his allies were plundered. The Circle, likewise, were forced backwards, to lick their wounds north of the Old Port Road.
After recovering, they decided to release the two remaining horses to fend for themselves before re-entering the marsh. They navigated the old trail, wary of another ambush. The Circle arrived, once again, at the hidden entrance to the tunnel that connects the old Hay Barn to the Moat House. It was locked from the inside. Sir Kog hefted his trusty axe to pry the hatch open… and promptly activated the fire trap on the door. It was more than just his eyebrows that were singed, from my vantage.
The Circle entered the long tunnel and proceeded with as much stealth as they could muster. They encountered, there in the dark, beneath the marsh what appeared to be another trap: a wooden platform, bending under some apparent weight, braced by two poles. After some investigation, they discovered that a great iron sphere was perched, waiting to crush anyone who attempted to remove the poles and clear the path.
After a bit too much deliberation, the Circle settled on the simplest of plans; Sir Kog attached a rope to one of the posts and while the others cowered behind him, he flexed his mighty thews and pulled the pole free. With a great shudder and crash, the massive sphere was released, tumbling forward, the Circle in an almost perfect line in its path… then ground to a halt after rolling a meager ten feet. A marvel of impressive engineering this “trap” was not.
The Circle progressed. At length they arrived at the few steps leading up to the door which, as they had previously learned, led to a hallway inside the Moat House. Dixit examined the door and uncovered an as-yet-unseen variety of trap on the door. Using unearthly skill, she managed to disarm it. Then, using the key ring they had captured from one of the bandits in their last visit, she unlocked the door, which opened to a wooden platform blocking their progress, and from behind holes cut in the planks for this specific purpose, the bandit crossbowmen unleashed their prepared volleys.
Thus endeth the report from Fluffy. Perhaps it is merely my reading of it, here, huddled in the dark and deprived of even the middling spirits native to this backwater, friends, but do you find that Fluffy has added some rouge to his prose? Certainly he would not be so bold as to believe he might supplant myself as correspondent of choice?
In any case, we will continue to follow events at the Moat House and keep you abreast. And whatever wretch sold you this foolscap, please remind them there is only one source for your Circle updates: Buck Headstrong, chronicler extraordinaire. Accept no substitutes.