Slain by Elf

You would think that some of us would realise by now not to try drinking strange liquids, particularly those found around paralysed bodies, or in dungeons of doom. That doesn't stop us from trying, though.

The party found some vials of liquid after exploring one of the many rooms in the dungeon, and the Mage wanted to identify the liquids inside using Spellcraft, which means having a small taste in the process. I suppose we could have stopped him, but we didn't. He has to learn on his own.

He dabbed his little finger in to the vial and took the smallest of tastes of the liquid, at which point the DM asked him to make a saving throw. Let's just say it was lucky we had some Lesser Restoration spells learnt.

The funny bit was that the Mage was boasting only minutes earlier how high his Intelligence was. Sure.

Working our way through the dungeon, the corridor we are in opens out in to a larger area. The DM draws on our gaming mat what we see, telling us that the bit in a middle is a river, and the cavern continues on the other side about as far as it does on the side we are standing.

The Paladin player, who must have sneakily bought some Eyes of the Eagle, says, 'So it's a cavern with a river running through it.'

The DM awarded him an experience point for such amazing powers of observation.

It started out a day like any other, sharing an ale with my Dwarven chum in a local inn. Well, Grimbor was doing all the drinking, as I need a clear head for the type of magic I call upon; after the last time I got drunk and summoned a demon for a lap dance I decided that I wouldn't do that again. I have been tee-total since. I think that is also why Grimbor drinks more these days: he was there that night too.

Whilst we were in the inn, I received a request to undertake an important mission, one that would benefit myself in that I would be able to call upon a greater demon in the fight against the Horde. The drawback was that I would have to make my way through Horde territory to get this ability. It sounded dangerous, and I was about to bid farewell to my friend, when Grimbor picked up his staff and gave me a wink. Maybe this is why I don't mind when he drinks so much.

Our journey was long, and we started by heading through dangerous Alliance territory before we even got to the sea to travel to the western isle. We took the tram to Ironforge and then ran our way through the Wetlands, keeping to the path. Speaking to the gryphon master in Menethil allowed us to get back to Ironforge rather more quickly and safely, although a tipsy Dwarf on a gryphon isn't always safe. We caught a ship to Thermore Isle, a friendly port . But that was the end of the relative saftey. I asked Grimbor if he still wanted to accompany me. 'Aye', he replied. I started the rest of the journey quickly, not waiting to see if he actually was going to say 'I don't, see you back at home', so that he was compelled to assist me.

We ran through Dustwallow Marsh, sticking to the road, but still attracted the attention of some horrible beasts, putting our lives in great peril, but still we bravely pushed forwards. It was not long until we reached the Southern Barrens--Horde Territory! Not only were the creatures larger and more dangerous, but we were potentially surrounded by the enemy. And there was more to come. We had to get further in to the Barrens to find my contact; we had to press on.

Deciding that running on the road may attract unwanted attention, we started out running cross-country. It didn't take us long to find my contact, who gave me the information I needed, but that led me further north, all the way through Horde terriroty to Ashenvale. We decided not to linger and continued our journery cross-country. A few encounters with large 'Thunder Lizards' encouraged us to take the road instead, as even though we could survive the occasionaly lizard, which must be ten times the size of an adult crocolisk, there were probably more dangerous beasts just waiting for us to take a wrong step. We headed to the road, and kept our eyes open.

Unfortunately, we attracted the attention of a troll, who approached us. It seemed that curiosity was great on both sides. We had never seen a troll before, nor, it seemed, had the troll seen a Human or Dwarf. At least, none that strolled through his own land. Nevertheless, there was but one of him and we had the might of two, along with my summoned demon. We felt relatively safe. The troll approached and started 'talking' at us, although we understood nothing. We were both a little repelled and yet intrigued. The troll was somewhat intimidating, being uglier than Grimbor after a night of heavy drinking, and seemed to want a fight, again like Grimbor after a night of heavy drinking. We were not confident to do this though. We had numbers on our side, but only at that time. Who could tell what else would be travelling the road we were on? It could have been a main road, so we could not risk it.

We carried on our way, but the troll followed. We don't know what he was up to, as his guttural language was alien to us. It was not pleasant to be followed by a Horde monster, but we still weren't threatened to a great degree. That is, until we saw two more creatures come running down the road towards us. We stopped in our tracks, not knowing which way to turn. We stepped back a little, so that we could see both the two coming down the road and the troll following us. We were only mildly surprised to see the two new beasts be greeted by the troll; they must have been allies in the way that bonds Grimbor and I.

The three of them began taunting us afresh, and I could see beads of sweat appear on the Dwarf's brow. Sure, it was hot in the Barrens, but I don't think it was the heat that was causing the sweat to appear. I can't blame him. Even with demonic powers under my control, I thought we had bitten off more than we could chew. Even if we could get out of this situation, with three Horde monsters in front of us, how many more were waiting?

The Horde creatures taunted us, clearly wanting a fight. But something held them back? What it was I cannot say, but they clearly wanted us to make the first move. Perhaps it is some strange Horde tradition, or maybe they have orders to bring back intruders alive unless there is no other option to kill them. Either way, Grimbor and I felt the pressure release from our systems. What else could we do, but burst in to dance? Of course, this only angered the Horde monsters; we didn't care. The more they angered and yet did not attack, the more we danced like there was no tomorrow.

However, we knew that we were still not safe, so after a short while we cut our most distracting moves and, while the enemy was confused, we made a break for it, heading up the road as fast as we could run. Grimbor always impresses me with his sprints, although his long-distance running is what you would expect from a Dwarf. Our dancing must have done the trick though, as we escaped the attentions of the three Horde monsters. The road further north seemed safer from other creatures as well, with only critters and relatively friendly beasts around. We made it to Ashenvale. Sure, Ashenvale is hardly safe ground, but we would meet mostly allies within it on the roads.

Thus went our first journey in to Horde grounds. It has bolstered our spirits and we feel more confident should either of us be called to go there again. In the meantime, we will practice our hottest disco moves, just in case.

I picked up a quest in Stormwind City that required me to head back to Northsire, where my adventures as a Warlock began. I made my way back there and felt a touch of nostalgia at seeing my old tutors, as well as pride at seeing the latest batch of recruits ready to dedicate themselves to the fight against the Horde. I felt a little out of place, being far more powerful than anyone else around, so I was on my best behaviour to give a good impression to the new blood.

While I was there, I wanted to see if there was a way to get up the mountainside, as I had seen what looked to be a camp at the top of it when flying over on a gryphon. As I was surveying the side of the mountains, looking for a way up, a young recruit came up to me. She seemed to be intrigued by my well-crafted clothes and perhaps interested by the few battle scars that I have picked up in my adventures. She greeted me and I greeted her back. Then I was taken by surprise: she offered to be my slave, to do whatever I bade, for a small price each week.

This was not what I expected from someone so young; nor indeed from someone with more experience. Nevertheless, however much I tried to turn her down politely this young woman was insistent. I had one last resort: being high-enough level I was able to summon a Succubus as a minion, so I did. The Succubus is a winged, female demon, wearing almost nothing, and carrying a whip. I pointed out that this Succubus was at my beck and call at all times, and so I did not really need a Human slave. The young woman in front of me said that she could not compete with that, and bade me farewell, leaving me alone.

I am not entirely sure what would have happened had I not been studying the dark arts and did not have access to a Succubus.

The party has taken on this quest that is taking us in to the heart of a dungeon; one of legends, apparently. Being a party of some experience we know that there are likely to be more than the normal amount of traps and hazards in a dungeon such as this, and are trying our best to watch our every step.

We see a ladder or rope we have to climb, and we check it for strength before we use it. We check each and every door for traps, as well as any chest we come across. We see a suspicious-looking, short corridor that could ensnare each party member should a trap be triggered, so the Rogue checks every inch for traps. So far, we have not found, nor set off, a single trap, but our precautions do not feel misplaced.

We get to a short set of stairs leading down to another room, and the Rogue points out that we would best check each step for traps. The only problem was that we took a short break at that point, to sort out our backpacks or check our weapons, something like that, and by the time we had returned to the quest in hand the Rogue had forgotten that we were to check the stairs for traps. Of course, that was the surest sign that we were about to find our first trap, by stumbling in to it.

I'm just glad I made the resutling Fortitude Saving Throw.

Having entered the dungeon, we make our way down the claustrophobic tunnels, making decisions on which way to turn and what to investigate. We get to one T-junction of many and the Rogue scouts ahead to see if there are any obvious dangers for each path. As he reports seeing signs of an old battle in a room down one path and that he is going to get a bit closer, I ask, 'Shall I step in to the first few feet of the corridor, just in case the Rogue gets threatened?'

To which the Paladin replies, 'Oh, be my guest!'

Our party is facing a Black Skeleton, a monster about which we have heard rumours and are unsure of its abilities and power. Unfortunately, two members of the party, myself included, get a-feared by the skeleton before we even get a chance to attack. The skeleton then climbs out of its coffin and stands next to the Mage, getting ready to attack.

The Paladin, standing ten feet away, weighs up his options. He calls out to the Mage, 'You can take a hit, can't you?'

Walking through the graveyard marking the beginning of our quest I spy a patch of freshly-filled graves with makeshift headstones bearing the names of other adventurers. I also see that the final grave is empty. I look at the makeshift headstone to see if there is a name, and there is; I read my name, 'Dinendal'.

Wondering if there is magic at work here, trying to unnerve us before we even begin in earnest, I direct the Paladin's attention to what I have seen.

'What name do you read on the headstone of the empty grave?', I ask him, guessing at his answer all ready.

'I read 'Percival'', he replies, slightly taken aback.

'As do I. That is quite an omen.'

I suppose that means I am to blame for his hiding behind the Cleric in the first fight, minutes afterwards and still in sight of that empty grave.

Prior to heading out to the place of great evil, we quite sensibly tried to find out as much as possible about where we were going. We managed to accumulate a fair bit of information, albeit of uncertain reliability, through some good Gather Information checks. We then were able to work see the evil at work in the graveyard we entered, as some magic tried to chill us to our bones before we had barely started our adventure. That was accomplished with a decent Spot check, as was finding the key to the main entrance. We were doing pretty well so far.

Then came our first battle, right on the door step. With confidence flowing through our systems after all of our skill checks, it was almost natural that the Rogue, performing the very first attack of the campain, nearly managed to gouge one of his own eyeballs out, after rolling a natural 1.

Luckily, the battle went a bit better after that, with only the Paladin in danger of losing his life. Phew.

My companions and I headed off on our new adventure, to destroy the evil that has overrun an old and sacred ground. I am particularly looking forward to defeating the monsters where others have failed, to show my prowess at fighting with my chosen weapon. I see nothing to fear.

Our journey to the site is uneventful and we begin to scout out the various buildings. We look at the two overgrown buildings to start with and see no reason to suspect that there are any evil forces at work within them, leaving a well and the main building, which looks to be kept in good shape.

One of the overriding rumous that we heard in the town whence we ventured to get here was that whatever we do we should not go down the well. For some, probably superstitious, reason the others in my party were unsettled by this hearsay, and the sight of the well rattled them a little more. They did not want to investigate it, let alone get close to it.

Cowards! I say we should at least have had a look, but I had to remain with the party for the sake of safety in numbers; after all, we were in a place of evil and we work best as a team. Nevertheless, I wouldn't be surprised if the well actually contains all the magic loot of the adventurers who had falled before us, as well as magical fairies with level-giving abilities. Isn't that worth the risk of falling directly in to a gate to hell?