A hovel is picked at random and we confidently open the door and stride in to claim it as our own, at least for the night. A couple of robed humans, backed by ghouls, take exception to our entrance. ‘Get out. This is ours.’

‘It’s ours now’, I tell them, ‘you get out’. We are asked to make an intimidation check, for which I enlist the aid of my bardic friend.

‘Grr.’ It is maybe not the best intimidating Lughar has performed, but it may do the trick. Lughar is asked for his will defence score, but sees right through this ploy. ‘I’m not telling you that! You can’t just ask me such things and expect a straight answer.’ But apparently it is the GM who is asking, not the NPCs, so that’s okay.

The robed cultists do not seem terribly swayed and need more convincing that they should leave. I think I can help them out. ‘We specialise in killing undead’, I say, pointing out their undead companions, ‘your ghouls mean nothing to us, which just leaves you to torture slowly before we have a restful sleep.’

We are asked for another intimidate check and Lughar rolls a 40, which should do it. ‘Adoni-zedek makes some ‘turn undead’ motions and convinces the cultists to leave the hut to you’, the GM tells us.

‘Oh right, I forgot that we can actually do that, making it a more effective bluff that I had hoped.’ Better still, we get to rest for the night and regain all our powers. We’ll need them, in order to deal with Kalarel’s lieutenants.

‘That one’s cocked.’

As we approach the guards, Lughar sings himself a little ditty to boost his confidence in his skills, and his charm then easily opens the gate for us. ‘Oh, that went better than I expected’, he says, as we stroll in to the city. But, sadly, we are still within earshot of the guards. As we enter melee combat, the gate itself comes alive, made of hundreds of severed and putrid humanoid arms. Luckily, it counts as undead, and I use my Nightbringer artefact to dominate it, which proves useful for us to retreat from its long reach and use its attack to immoblise one of the guards for a round.

The other ogre guard, finding himself alone, charges in to pound us heavily, knocking Adran prone. But with limited targets ourselves he soon finds himself deeply debuffed. A couple of attacks puts him at -10 to attack, his armour defence reduced, provoking an opportunity attack if he tries to shift, and provoking one anyway with his next attack. When Lughar wants to add to the ogre’s growing list of status effects, the GM despairs at his latest pet being picked on. ‘He’s already got enough problems, you don’t need to add to them.’

‘Yes, but he’s still got hit points.’ But not for long. And the second ogre doesn’t last much longer, quickly defeated when the animated gate doesn’t want to be used for the ogre to hide behind, throwing the ogre back in to our midst to be slaughtered. I unleash a big encounter power, hoping to finish him off, but my weapon just misses the ogre’s trembling body. Lughar takes the chance to slide us all around, with some weird bardic power that makes no sense at all, and provides my agile opportunist self with another attack. My miss becomes a hit, even if it does only a fraction of the damage of my wasted encounter power. It is enough, the ogre drops. Our party dynamics are working well.

Welcome to Hordethrone.

The Keeper, befriended by our good-natured small-talk, offers us his staff to use. He thinks he’ll get my weapon with the Nightbringer relic attached to it in gratitude, but he only asked for my weapon in return so I’ll take Nightbringer off first with a clear conscience. …as clear as my conscience can be whilst wielding the relic, anyway. His staff appears quite useful, having a finger that points the way. We’re not quite sure why it is pointing one straight up, though. ‘We also need to make a blood pact’, The Keeper insists, asking us all to spill blood on a coin to keep with us, ‘or curses will suck your souls’.

Adoni is the first to enter the blood pact, ‘I don’t want our souls being sucked’. Maybe her words have greater effect in the Deva accent, but not having our souls sucked sounds like a good reason for the rest of us to enter the pact as well. So with blood spilt and the ritual complete, we head across the desert.

The heat is overbearing, but Lughar has cast his own ritual, granting us endurance against the elements. Even when insects bite or a Sarlaac appears we keep plodding along. Only Adran looks to be weakening slightly. ‘If he falls, do we just leave him?’

‘Don’t be silly. We’ll take his loot first.’