#he’d totally try to keep the tieflings safe though

[teecupangel]

I keep thinking about Desmond, our fave isekai protag, getting dropped into baldur’s gate 3. Only, per one of my favorite isekai tropes, as a no-name NPC. As one of the Sharess’s Caress escorts? As one of Astarion’s spawn?? Basically him just being Tired Of This Shit and trying to avoid the plot but of course that’s not going to work lol. I haven’t even decided if he would be a romantic interest for the MC or a companion or anyone, or what his class would be. But ugh his isekai potential too strong.

His isekai potential is too strong.

If we want Desmond tired of everything and just want to avoid the plot, I personally would put him somewhere safe-ish? Desmond is the type of person who wouldn’t turn a blind eye to atrocities if it smacked him on the forehead so the best way to ensure that he stays away from whatever plot is happening is by making him an NPC in a more or less stable area where he would feel like other more knowledgeable and experienced with all these ‘dungeons and dragons’ (they have magic, holy shit) got this. That would point us to someone in Baldur’s Gate before Act 3. This way, Desmond would have his peace and quiet until the party starts doing their thing and Desmond stop being able to turn a blind eye on everything and he’s ‘forced’ to assist this party of… well… interesting people

As for his class, well, you can go for the class I’m going for with my playthrough of BG3 as Desmond. I made him multiclass Rogue (Thief) and Ranger (Gloomstalker), with a little bit of Bard (College of Swords), specifically:

Rogue Lv 4 – Thief (because Thief’s skills are more all rounders than Assassin’s)

Ranger Lv 5 – Gloomstalker (more stealth options, Dread Ambusher is our Assassin skill lite and lv5 has extra attack XD)

Bard Lv 3 – College of Sword, more on the side of Desmond being good in being seen as ‘non threatening’ but his spell list is more on the side of support than actual damage.

If you want to keep him in one class only, making him a Thief (Assassin) would make the most sense with the hidden blade being more or less his one shot kill weapon, although in terms of gameplay that’s kinda like making him a “best in first round only” kind of deal. The multiclass above is the ‘compromise’ I made to have Desmond be more or less in line with his setup in Assassin’s Creed.

Of course, if you want to have fun and make Desmond suffer (affectionately), you can make him a Warlock with a pact with an unknown Great Old One. This would add a layer of mystery to who had ‘helped’ Desmond be pushed into Faerun and we can hint that the Great Old One is:

Isn’t actually a Great Old One but one of the gods but Desmond’s otherworldly-ness and his lack of ‘worshipping’ stopped him from being a Paladin or a Cleric and pushed him into Warlock territory

Is one of the Isus from his world that had escaped into Faerun (or somewhere close by) but, since that Isu is a deity from their world, the Isu is counted as one of the Great Old Ones (which sounds a lot like “Those Who Came Before”)

Desmond’s patron isn’t one entity but a legion, using some kind of system to support or affectionately bully him at times if and only if the legion reaches a majority vote. Desmond technically has multiple access to ‘Wish’ but it’s more of him asking help from the legion and hoping many of them would give him what he wants. … and, yes, I am basing the legion on the whole “Desmond’s patron is us” idea I have XD

Even if Desmond isn’t a magic class, I think he’d have a few scrolls with him, mostly support spells like Invisibility, Fly and even Enhance Leap (also Speak with Dead and Speak with Animal) with a few attack spells that he uses as distraction most of the time

Sidebar: I’m not sure if you mean Astarion’s spawn as in we’re setting this after BG3 with Astarion having ascended and making Desmond his spawn or if you meant Desmond is a fellow Cazador spawn, either way, we’ll have to find a way for Desmond to escape his sire’s thrall if that’s the case. The easiest would be Desmond getting a tadpole in his brain like Astarion but that does mean that… well… if his sire was Astarion, this will lead to Desmond wanting to kill Astarion because he sees being put in his thrall as something horrible as it makes him lose control over himself even if Astarion was to be… ‘kind’ to him. If it was Cazador though, then that means Desmond will want to kill Cazador (and maybe Astarion and the party helped him during the whole… Cazador ‘sidequest’) and that would be his reason for being unable to keep himself from the plot.

[pinkevilbobdoesthings]

So I was talking to folks on the widojest love discord and we were all hashing out a Tangled AU and I was all welp, I'm not going to write anything for that. And here I am with a one shot. Here you go guys. I’m calling this one ‘Entangled’.

____________________________________

It was supposed to be simple: go back to Rexxentrum, break into Trent Ikithon's tower, steal back Calebs old spellbooks, escape. Simple. Well, maybe not simple, but straight forward. Caleb specifically chose that day since he knew that Ikithon would not be there that month, and he expressly forbade anyone to enter the tower without him. So, to put it mildly, Caleb was surprised to come face to face with a pretty girl there.

She was a tiefling, shorter and pudgier than him, with impossibly long blue hair. If Caleb had to guess, he'd estimate it to be 72 feet long, but that was not remotely possible. "What are you doing here?" she asked leaning in close to him. "Father didn't say anything about someone coming here today."

"I was sent here," Caleb lied his mind racing. Master Ikithon never mentioned anything about having a daughter, but Caleb couldn't imagine that she was referring to anyone else. Ikithon was the only one living in the tower. Well, except for this girl apparently. "I needed to gather some things for Master Ikithon."

"Ah, okay," the girl said sounding a little disappointed. "What's the secret password?"

Caleb gave it some though. What kind of password would Trent Ikithon use with his daughter? He rubbed his arms and then an idea hit him. "Master Ikithon told me it was the greatest of gems - diamond."

Ikithon's daughter frowned for a moment, but it left quickly. "We don't have a password." Caleb swore mentally; it was a trap. "That means you're breaking in here." She seemed oddly excited to have discovered an intruder.

"It's nothing like that," Caleb said. "I'm a student of his, and there's something I need to get back."

"A student?" She pouted. "That's boring. Are you sure you're not some renowned cat burglar or reformed thief forced to commit one last heist against their will or something?"

Caleb shook his head and tried to hide his confusion(where was she getting these ideas?). "No, just a student."

Ikithon's daughter frowned a little more(Caleb had to admit that she was cute with that little scowl). "Oh!" She brightened up once more. "Are you here on a dare? Or maybe a prank?"

"No, I just need to get my books back. Master Ikithon was keeping them safe for me, but I need to get them back before I can go."

"Go? You're running away?"

Caleb swore under his breath. The last thing he needed was this girl to report him to Ikithon. He was almost tempted to leave without his spell books, but they were too precious to abandon. "It's more complicated than that."

She paced the floor careful not to get tangled up in her hair. "No, you're a young student once full of promise and gifts, but you couldn't make it in the cruel world of academia, and rather than get chewed up and spat out, you're taking fate into your own hands." She smiled at him like she solved a complicated puzzle. "Take me with you!"

"What?" Caleb asked flatly. He could barely keep up with her.

"Right, so every year, there's a bunch of floating lights and they dance out there." She pointed out the window towards the sea. "And it's always on my birthday, so I should totally get to see them in person, but my father says it's too dangerous for me to leave the tower. But I've had over twenty birthdays already and my birthday's next week, so I need you to take me with you to see them."

Caleb stared at her trying to figure out what she was talking about. "Do you mean that sky lanterns of Nicodranas? I can't take you there. I don't even know your name and you certainly don't know mine."

"I'm Jester," she said sweetly holding out her hand to him. "What's your name?"

He hesitated for a moment before saying, "Caleb Widogast."

"Well, Caleb Widogast, you're going to take me to see the lights and then home. If you don't, then I call my father right now and you'll get in trouble," Jester said.

The blood drained from Caleb's face. He'd be lucky if he was only in trouble. "Please don't. I can't take you. Master Ikithon would be sure to notice your absence."

Jester froze and for a moment she looked scared, but it passed quickly. "He's off on official business and won't be here for at least a month." That was why Caleb chose now to get his books back, but that did not make him want to go through with this madness. "So nothing to worry about."

"There's always something to worry about," Caleb said. "Does your father take good care for you?" He asked the question before really think about it.

"Well, yeah," she said, but there was that frown again for just a second. "I mean it's super lonely here and I'm not allowed any friends or visitors or a puppy. Oh! But I do have the Traveler!" Jester ran off, and before Caleb had time to to decide on whether he should just sneak out then, she returned holding a strange lizard. "The Traveler!" she whispered in a voice full of worship and awe.

Caleb fought the urge to frown. "Hello?" He held out his finger and the lizard shook it. "But your father spends time with you right? I mean he'd read to you stories and such, right?"

"Not really. See, he's always been super busy and important and stuff, but it's okay cause when he's not around I get to play with the Traveler." Jester held the lizard up to her ear. "He says he likes you, so you should definitely take us to the lights."

Caleb's arguments dried up. As awful as it was to be Ikithon's student, being his child was probably far worse. "Fine, I will take you to the lights," he said, "but first I'm getting my books."

"Okay, but I'm keeping them until our deal is done," Jester said.

"That's fine with me," Caleb said. "I'll get my books after I take you to the lights."

Jester beamed at him. "Thank you!" She wrapped him in a big hug and lifted him off the floor. It took him by surprise, but he found himself smiling anyways.

That settled it. He would find her a safe place in Nicodranas and it really wasn't tricking her if he didn't agree to take her home. Part of him felt guilty for lying to her, but it was for her own good. Jester would probably forgive Caleb eventually, and if she didn't, it didn't really matter anyways. It wasn't like she was important to him.

[dancer4813]

Courtesy of @notalwayweak and @arkhamarchitecture, this oneshot was born from me rolling on a table, the challenge being to write a fic exploring the relationship between two PCs for the new campaign.

I rolled Travis and Marisha, and while I love Fjord and Beau as Gays I think they have their eyes on other people ;) Thus, this little pseudo-sibling relationship fic was born, also featuring Jester because how could I not?

got my eye on you

“That was a fucking trip, man,” Beau said, falling back onto her bed once they were safely in their room at the inn. “I never thought we’d have such an exciting day when I woke up this morning!”

“Do you think Molly and Yasha are going to be okay?” Jester asked, curling into herself beside the door, her tail drooping low instead of perked up as it usually was. “I do not like the thought of us leaving him there in the prison all night, or of her out on her own.”

“If anyone can take care of herself, it would be Yasha-” Fjord started, Beauregard interrupting him with a “Hell yeah!”

“Did you see the arms on her?” she continued, sitting back up, eyes alight. “Gods above, I’d pay five gold for each if I had the money, but you know, even being in them for a couple minutes? Mmmm, totally worth it.”

“I am sure that she can take care of herself, but I still don’t like either of them being alone for tonight,” Jester said, shrugging. “You know? No one should be alone.”

“I understand,” Fjord cut in, before Beau could ramble more about Yasha’s arms. “But there’s really nothing we can do tonight. We don’t have enough to bail him out, and we don’t want to deal with the Crown Guards, trust me. We’ll see what we can do tomorrow, after they’ve finished their investigation. If he’s got nothing to hide, we don’t need to worry about him.”

“I suppose you are right,” Jester said reluctantly, unfolding her arms and scratching one of her horns. “I will wait until tomorrow. Do either of you want a drink?”

“Are you buying?” Beau asked, coming out of whatever daydream about Yasha’s arms she had been lost in.

“That was the plan, yes.”

“Fantastic!” She turned to Fjord, who only had a split second to compose himself for her unexpected change of focus. “What sort of drink would Yasha have?”

He laughed, unable to help himself. “You want to get a feel for who she is?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

Fjord laughed again, this time at the distant look on her face. For someone who could punch his lights out, Beau was a hopeless romantic at heart.

“Can’t say I’m too solid on that,” he said, shaking his head with a smirk. “Didn’t she order something when they stopped by earlier?”

“She didn’t get the Bombauk – I remember that!” Jester said. “They’re such assholes. I don’t see why they have to keep messing with stuff.”

“Ale then, usual fare,” Fjord said with a nod to Beau. “Does that ring a bell?”

Beau shook her head, licking her lips as she gazed off into space. “I was too busy looking at her shoulders to catch what came out of her mouth. Won’t make that mistake again, though.”

“I’ll see what they have for ale then,” Jester said with a grin. “Maybe I can surprise you!”

Beau just hummed, and Fjord shook his head, rolling his eyes.

“Anything you want, Fjord?”

“Some sort of red wine – anything’ll do.”

“Excellent,” Jester said, looking much happier with something to do. “Any sort of wine and some ale, coming right up!”

She headed out, and Fjord was left alone with his hopelessly enraptured friend still staring at the ceiling.

“Do you need to blow off some steam?” he asked. Beau just shook her head.

“I just want to stare at her forever. You’re no good at drawing, are you?”

“Can’t say I am,” Fjord said, shaking his head. He moved to sit down on one of the chairs in the room, taking out his falchion and sharpening stone. “But you could try your hand at it, certainly.”

“I’d ruin it. Strong, silent… I’ll just have to remember her until I see her again.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Fjord murmured, drawing the whetstone down his blade once, twice, checking its edge against his thumb, then following the curve again.

“And don’t think I didn’t see how you were looking at those guys we met,” Beau said, turning to him. She waggled her eyebrows. “I might’ve been busy with a certain woman, but no one could miss the way your eyes followed them.”

“Followed who now?” Fjord asked, genuinely confused.

Beau’s lips, which had been drawn into a smirk, wilted a bit as she murmured something under her breath. It sounded like “Except you”, but that only made him more confused.

“The guys we met today,” she continued, gesturing out the window. “You know, we went to a carnival with them and everything?”

Fjord scoffed. “You mean the one who never spoke and the one who never stopped?” he asked blandly.

Beau snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”

“It’s hard not to watch them – Caleb looks shifty, and he and that goblin were eying our coin earlier. Molly’s just… a lot. Again, hard not to watch.”

He thought of the purple tiefling’s too-wide grin, and the other man’s tattered coat, nearly rags.

“You’re picturing them in your mind’s eye, aren’t you?”

“Lay off, Beau,” he scoffed, reaching over to his bed and throwing a pillow at her.

She laughed, delighted, and caught it, throwing it back at him.

He grabbed Jester’s pillow and threw both of them at her, only to be hit with the pillow from Beau’s own bed a second later.

“Hey guys! I have your- whoa!”

Jester had opened the door to the room, only to step back out as one of Fjord’s thrown pillows hit the door. Beau burst into laughter, and Fjord joined her, both of them cackling too hard to keep up their “fight”.

“Are you guys finished?” Jester asked, warily peeking back in the room, and Fjord nodded, calming down a bit. These kids would be the death of him, he was sure, but he’d be damned if he left them to their own devices. “Good! I have your drinks – Beau, I got you a Husseldorf – the bartender remembered what she got the “big grey lady” earlier, and here’s your red wine, Fjord-“

She passed out the drinks and, before Beau could down her whole cup, Jester raised hers in a toast.

“To new friends! And not being killed by the zombies!”

“To not dyin!” Fjord echoed with a chuckle.

“To ladies who can pick you up with one arm!” Beau exclaimed, and took a deep swig from her ale. “Gods, that hits the spot.”

Fjord grinned as he took a sip, watching as Jester moved to Beau’s side, pointing out that she, too, was quite strong, as if Beau hadn’t noticed.

They’d get the tiefling out of prison the next day, and hopefully find some clues about what exactly that monster had been. In the meantime, though, he’d drink his wine and watch the two of them bicker playfully.

It was certainly better than being alone.

[draegonkin]

Beneath Shadowed Wings: Chapter 7 – The 2.4.1 Deal

(Alternate Title: A Jewel in the Desert)

The group had a few minor details to clear up before leaving the city.  First, they stopped by their tavern and left one of the Rocky Talkies with Selkie, who they gave the radio handle “Seal”. Next Olek and Bitsy stopped by their favorite armorer: Killa.  Olek gave him the vivisector pieces to include in a piece of armor from the smith, while Bitsy asked for a unique set of gauntlets that could be worn when she was in beast form.  Killa was a little bit taken back the request, but he agreed to try.

Finally, they went to Khaless’ representative to the Consortium and signed up as a group, while Bitsy agreed to remain on as an independent contractor.  After a little bit of discussion, inspiration from Olek’s coupon idea to sell two for one drinks at their new bar, and an interesting in advertising their business, they agreed on the name “2.4.1. Drinks”.  The representative thought they might be joking, but when assured they weren’t, he signed them on as the Consortium’s newest protector group.

The next morning, they met with Korvis Blazebeard, journeyman of the Consortium and his caravan members, Nell Brant the driver, Alistar and Riva Keen the animal handlers, and Ipsen Rillis their quartermaster.  Korvis explained to them that they would need to stay with the caravan at all times. He was glad to have a cleric of Ariss with them and made an arrangement with Kizzy to fill up their water each day in exchange for a bonus at the end of their trip.  Soon they set out, Bitsy taking the form of a Coyote as long as she could before resting, ranging out ahead of them to scout.

Eventually they came to some ruins that the vague road they were on passed through.  Curious, Thyme moved on slightly ahead to check them out, Bitsy coming with to keep watch on him.  The ruins appeared to be little more than eroded old buildings and some four armed, insectoid humanoids disguised as stones among the ruins.

Underestimating their prey the creatures, known as Thri-kreen, attempted to take the two by surprise.  Unfortunately, both proved much heartier than they expected and they fought back. Thyme sent up a series of sparks into the sky to signal the others, drawing them into the battle.  The others arrived, moving in to help.  As Bitsy killed the first of the two attackers, and one leapt to the walls of the ruins to flee, three more jumped from the stones and immediately moved to attack the caravan.  Olek, using the powers of his new axe for the first time imbued his strike with the power of a lion and leapt at his foe, his axe felling the creature.

The remaining Thri-kreen stuck at Nell and the water within the cart.  The third attempted to kill Absinthe, but an arrow from Thorn killed it, pinning it to the wagon.  The bard used magic to be sure that Nell did not die from her wounds.  Desperate now, one grabbed a barrel of water, and one dragged of the form of Nell, paralyzed by the venom of the creature.  Fortunately, Bitsy was quicker, killing one, while Kizzy used a blast of divine power to kill the other.  Safe, Nell thanked them profusely, and soon they headed off again.

After a total of six days they arrived at the intimidating Gabran stronghold.  A massive manmade pit surround the entire fortress, a bridge spanning the gap across.  The fort was made of red stone and iron, and a decrepit shanty town was built in the surrounding pit.  An arena was there, as well as a market for the servants and prisoners.  Outside the pit was a small organized town belonging to the Consortium, known by the inhabitants as Gateway Outpost.

The group stopped in at the Gateway Outpost, an extension of the Consortium here in the wasteland. Once there Korvis pulled them aside and gave them a few words of advice.  He warned them that crime here was punished by stints as indentured servants in the mines or arena run by the Gabran clan and that they would need to be careful to stay on the good side of the Legions.  Indicating that he knew they had some business beyond their Consortium contract, he said he’d been informed by Khaless to wait for them before heading back to Jarmaulk.

Knowing they had a contact to meet here they headed to the local tavern: The Last Oasis.  There were a few people there, a human and a few assorted members of the Consortium, a few workers from the Gateway outpost.  Beyond that were two individuals that stood out: A half-orc wearing a finely crafted breastplate of mithril and a giant falchion, and a kobold wearing a fine hat on his head with a whip at his side.  After a brief awkward conversation, they determined this was indeed Rastin’s contact at the stronghold.  Olek sat beside the other half orc.  The large armored man looked at him and said, “Thog think needs drink.” Olek wholeheartedly agreed. Smiling, Thog asked, “You speak orc?” Olek replied in orc, with a smile. Thog let out a sigh of relief and said, “Thank goodness. Common is such a barbaric language, don’t you agree?  So few words for such important things!  It is so refreshing to speak a civilized tongue again!”

They became fast friends.

Meanwhile Rufus the kobold was telling the party that with their information about the general location of Gbranth’s tomb, he was able to focus his information gathering.  He knew that there was a monolith in a city called Cliffkeep, at the edge of the desert, that spoke of the entrance to the tomb. The Ember Chief of the Gabran had found it, but Rufus did not know what it said.  He also gave them more information about the situation with the clan’s laws. Everything in this desert was theirs, in their own eyes.  Everything in, above and under belonged to the Gabran clan.  The group deduced that telling them about the amulet was likely a bad idea, to which Rufus agreed enthusiastically. He told them that to enter the desert without permission of the clan was a crime that would land them in the mines for decades.  They would need to get permission of the Ember Chief or one of his War Masters, and would need a good reason to be entering the desert.

Thog also indicated that because he was one of the Champions of the arena he could get an audience with the Ember Chief, though he would only be able to bring two of them with him. This gave them some things to think about.

As evening settled, Thyme pondered their problem.  He thought about what he knew of men in power and thought that appealing to man’s baser nature might get them somewhere, so he thought about finding out what kind of partners the Chief preferred.  The obvious conclusion was checking in at a local brothel might shed light on the information he sought.  And despite Kizzy begging the young man not to go – and telling him he couldn’t because he was too young; it was past his bed thyme – he went anyways, as a rebellious teen does.  Olek and Thorn went to watch and see what would unfold.  Bitsy went to keep an eye on things, disguised as a mouse.

Eventually they entered the Common grounds, even worse up close than it looked from the rim of the pit. It was a rundown district where workers in the mines, mostly slaves and indentured servants, lived.  Those that lived there were weary and a bit on the hungry side.  In a district like that the brothel they were able to find was equally terrible.  Thyme went in undeterred.

What followed was perhaps one of the most awkward exchange in the history of the world of Alia.

Thyme entered and saw at once that the woman running this establishment was part of the Wildfire legion that ran this part of the town.  She could tell immediately that he was out of his depth.  As he awkwardly pressed for information she demanded that he pay for a girl, or get out.  He was hesitant to choose a girl, so the Mistress of the house chose one that would suit a “first thymer”.  A middle-aged gnome known as Jewel came forward and after Thyme paid the Mistress 50 gold pieces led him to a room in the back.  Mouse-Bitsy followed.

For the next few minutes Thyme avoided the suggestive advances of Jewel, even going so far as to offer her some dried trail rations if she was hungry.  He learned that few from the stronghold came here, and that they had their own places for that kind of entertainment there.  They were more likely to come to the arena than here, though a few might visit and spend their winnings.

Once he’d learned that he left her room.  The house Mistress gave him a pitying look.  Olek patted him on the back consolingly letting him know that it happened to everyone.  Thorn pointed out it was his first time.  Later Mouse-Bitsy was sympathetic, telling the young man that she wouldn’t tell anyone what really happened if he wanted.

The four of them made a quick stop by the arena, watching an orc fight a dire wolf.  Thorn lost five silver on a bet when the orc knocked the wolf out cold.  Curious they asked a few denizens of the city about the arena and found out that anyone could join if they proved themselves against some weaker beasts.  A member of the legion offered to show them some of the beasts they had, rather proudly.  Bothered, Bitsy, no longer a mouse, went with the others to see them.  She found them in small cages, scarred, feral, and mad. It ate at the deepest part of her nature.  She clenched her jaw and left with the others, for now.

Back at The Last Oasis, Kizzy waited for Thyme with a look of disapproval.  Absinthe watched the frustrated Tiefling, keeping her company. When Thyme returned, he was very quiet about what had happened which only seemed to confirm their beliefs.

Eventually Kizzy told them that the temple to Ariss here could put them all up for the night. Absinthe and Thyme took her up on the offer.  Olek wanted to spend some more time drinking with Thog, and Thorn was more comfortable at the inn.  Bitsy, to Kizzy’s surprise stayed at the inn as well.  She told Kizzy it was because she preferred it, but in all honesty, she didn’t feel comfortable around gods after being raised to believe in the Old Way her whole life.

They rested for the night and agreed to meet in the morning to determine a course of action.

After a restless night, Thyme woke early and was met outside the temple by a hulking goliath name Bron. The man, a carpenter in the city, handed Thyme a crate containing a new lute, and instructions for his next one. The young Tiefling went back into the temple and played a few notes on the beautiful crystalline lute, the color of it shifting with the notes he played.

Thyme was not looking forward to how jealous Absinthe was going to be…

[dungeons-and-dickheads-blog]

The Jailbreak

Orisk Ironfist wakes to the smell of decay and unwashed bodies.  His head is throbbing; his face is pressed into the rough hewn wooden floor. He sat up and surveyed the room around him. The cell is small, with wooden bars, but no windows; only a murder hole in the ceiling.  There’s a cot in one corner, and bucket in the other, along with several sharp shards of stone.  He needs the attention of the guards, so he uses the sharpest looking shard to saw into his leg. The wound is deep enough to bleed, but not deep enough to cause any real damage.

He calls out to one of the guards for help, but the single man that comes to his aid scoffs at his superficial and obviously self-inflicted injury.  As the guard turns to head back down the latter into the lower levels of the Blackpool Prison, Orsik (who is a small man – even for a dwarf) slides through the bars of his cell, and is free.  He sneaks carefully up behind the guard, on the second or third rung of the ladder leading downwards, and kicks him forcefully.  The guard falls, and Orsik doesn’t move again until he hears an echoing thud and a splash.

Out of the corner of his eye, Orisk notices an elderly man even smaller than he is slip nimbly through the rather widely space bars of his own cell.  Whoever had designed the prison had not had gnomes in mind.  He approaches the large hole in the center of the room, looking back and forth between it and Orsik’s face.

“I suppose I should thank you,” he says, “for taking out the guard.  I was just waiting for him to leave so that I could get out.”

Orsik grunts in return.  

The gnome sticks out his arm to shake the dwarf’s hand.  “Eldon. Eldon Ningle, though I go by Tock.” Tock had a slight tremble in his hand, shifting eyes, and his head twitched to the side like he had a subtle form of turrets.  Orsik’s overall impression of the gnome was that he wasn’t quite totally present, ‘upstairs’.

Orsik shook his hand and gave him his own name.   As they looked back down to the ladder to inspect it, they heard a crunch like that of breaking wood.  They turn and see a tall human man, who then turned and crashed through the bars of the only remaining occupied cell.  From the last cell emerged a strikingly handsome young tiefling man.  

The four gather around the large hole in the center of the room, looking back and forth between each other before the human finally spoke up.  “Well, what are we going to do?”

Orsik picks up a still mostly intact bar from Marben’s cell, slapping it twice against his own hand to test that it wouldn’t break under pressure.  “Well, I’d suggest we arm ourselves, and start to look for a way out.”

Tock, the human, and the tiefling all found cell bars they would use as primitive clubs and then the party descended into the lower levels of the prison.

At the bottom of the ladder they found a large iron door, which was unfortunately locked.  They also found a stagnant pool of sewage next to a grate that seemed to lead into the city sewer system.  Lying in the pool was the guard, who was fortunately dead.  Orisk searched the body of the guard, retrieving from it a small purse of gold and a short-sword.  Eldon searched the corpse as well, taking particular interest in the pockets of the dead guard’s coat, and finding a small pocket watch.

The old gnome grinned widely, and then set to dismantling the watch into parts that could be used to pick the lock of the large iron door.  Orsik watched him carefully; skeptical about whether or not Tock could actually use the antique to help them escape.  

The human man suddenly again spoke up, “I think we should split up, two and two.  Gives us a better chance of us finding a safe way out of this place.”

Orsik nodded.  “That sounds like a fine idea,” trailing off, imploring the young man for his name.

“Marben,” the human said.  “My name is Marben.”

“Well, Marben,” Orsik said, “You and I will take the sewer path.  Tock and the tiefling will stay here and try to unlock that door.”

The tiefling scoffed.  Orsik narrowed his eyes at him.  “Do you have a problem, tiefling?”

“No, sir, I would just be eternally grateful if you referred to me by my name and not as ‘the tiefling’ as if it leaves a bad taste in your mouth,” he said, the phrase dripping with sarcasm and content. “It is Scamos.”

“Well, fine, Scamos,” Orsik answered, turning back to Marben.  “Tock and Scamos will stay here and try to unlock the door.”

Scamos hmphed and crossed his arms, still dissatisfied.  Tock set to work with his macgyvered lock picks, and Marben and Orsik slid through the bars of the grate leading to the sewers, down a sharp incline.  Orsik shortly thereafter lost his footing, sliding down the slippery slope into the basin below with a loud splash.  He kicks at something biting him on the leg as Marben pulls him out of the rank water, and the two look around until they find a grate that they suspect leads to the tributary of the Avonmore River that runs through the center of Blackpool, and the outside world.

Meanwhile, Tock is able to open the door with surprising ease, and he and Scamos, as stealthily as they can, make their way through the door into the room beyond.  There are four armed guards who the pair cannot escape without notice. Scamos rushes in to fight, but Tock recedes into the shadows.  

Scamos manages to gore two of the four to death with his makeshift club before Orsik and Marben, returning to inform their companions of a possible escape round, come through the door, weapons drawn, and finish of the remaining guards.  Orsik with a smooth decapitation, and Marben with a stab through the back of the neck (and the aid of a small gnome gnawing on his ankles). 

They find a large chest in the center of the room, which they presume holds their belongings. They are correct in assuming so, however, there is a fifth set of armor within as well.  Tock beings to speak up and ask who it might belong to when they hear another crash upstairs among the cells.  They return the room with the ladder that leads back upstairs.  Scamos looks up the ladder, and sees the face of a devilishly handsome young man.  He says: “Hello, all.  My name is Vlad, and your entire party will earn my unending loyalty if you are willing to aide in my escape.”  They party agrees to accept Vlad, as if they have much choice, and they all don their gear and head for the escape grate. 

Orsik runs headfirst down the slope, sliding on his stomach down into the basin he’d been in before.  The rest follow him carefully down the incline, careful not to slip and fall into the pungent water below.  Tock looks through the grate and says, “Why, that’s the spillway.  That leads directly to the center of Blackpool.”

Marben pulls Orsik from the water once again, and the group continue carefully along the stone walkway leading around the edges of the room.  Orsik again goes spilling into the water when he steps on a loose piece of stone and the floor beneath him crumbles from under his feet.  Vlad pulls him from the water this time,  seeming already to be fed up with the dwarf’s antics and attitude.

Luckily for the group, Tock has several climbing pegs that they can use to cross the gap without issue.  Before they can cross their makeshift bridge however, they are attacked by the cryptworms which had been biting Orsik under the water.  The group battles the pests with ease, Orsik flamboyantly jumping onto the back of one and cutting a gash behind it’s head with one of his axes.

When they make it to the grate, Tock attempts to swim under it, into the spillway, but the current and the cryptworms still in the water are too much for the small, elderly man.  Vlad, preferring to use his brawn over his brains, simply beats a larger hole in the grate with his war-hammer and the party waltzes out of the prison easily.

Tock snipes worms for samples while the others wash the repulsive sewage from their clothes and gear.  They mutually decide to head up to the town, where the group discovers and Inn and Tavern aptly named Spillside.  Scamos makes himself comfortable upon entry, strumming his lute, and earning a few coins along with the favor of the Innkeeper, a dwarven woman named Gerda.

Tock retires for the night under a bed in an already occupied room, while Orsik makes several attempts to woo the lovely Gerda.  The tactless dwarf makes many graphic comments about the size of his member, to which Gerda responds: “Those who claim to carry a great sword most often only posses a dagger.”  In an effort to prove her wrong, he drapes his sizable package over the bar, receiving a fork straight through as punishment.  Marben and Vlad watch the scene unfold with amusement, throwing back ale after ale in fierce competition to see who could drink the other under the table first. 

The group rents rooms from the night, Scamos receiving his for free for his musical delight.  In the morning, Orsik wakes to a sealed letter on his bedside table, signed by the leader of a local thieves guild.

Meanwhile, Tock displays great aptitude for acrobatics for such and elderly gnome, deftly stealing a very valuable gem from a local magic shop and a clock from the room he’d stayed in the night before. 

The party sets out to find the leader of the local guild, headed towards a specific location mentioned in the letter Orsik received.  When they arrive, there is only a petite woman, her face covered with a black veil.  She gives them simple instructions: go to this place, retrieve this golden tablet engraved with the image of an ancient Dwarf Lord.  She offers them gold to keep themselves, and with which to bribe the guards of Blackpool to forget their crimes.

The party agrees to the woman’s terms, a great love for both gold and adventure burning in their chests as they set off south from Blackpool on what will surely be the greatest adventure of their lives.