The Lays of the Thirteen Claws League - Session 83
This is another sort-of-IC retrospective by Bert, the party's thief locksmith-turned-bard. I give +1 character point (XP) for those players who submit a summary for me to post here on the blog. This session was played on 2021/01/14.
The Lays of the Thirteen Claws League
Canto 2:
To resume my verse, as my old tutor
taught me I will set the scene: at the inn,
my friends came and met Sergeant Manuta
--she’d lost some men to the forces of sin –
she could give us a good place to begin
searching for the watchmen-snatching monsters
--we were looking for our first easy win
in ridding Marsh Hall of its undead curse:
you know, the Lich which is the subject of my verse.
So, Yvor, our brave knight, began to give
orders for lights, and Manuta obeyed:
we thought the snatched watchman, Claude, might yet live,
our urge to rescue him could not be stayed:
we prepared ourselves for battle (I prayed
to The Lady) and took a warlike form
to go rescue the sergeant’s lost comrade.
In preparation for the coming storm
Yvor handed out to each our new uniform.
These were robes we had previously won
--a great reminder of a past victory -
they would give us some added protection.
Manuta and Yvor had a history
but what it was was somewhat a mystery
to me. She was not a sword for hire
-would she soon be one of our company?
Well, as we all set off to face our dire
foes I thought I heard some mention of a squire.
We soon reached the entrance to the sewer
and began to form our plan of attack:
the Lich would soon be many ghouls fewer.
Miao, who was now enrobed in red and black,
unusually, stayed right at the back
as we plunged down to begin our slaughter.
In umbral tunnels I’ve picked up the knack
of keen listening, I think I caught her
muttering to herself about filthy water.
Davin gave, to those who wished, glowing stones
asking Warian :“Are ghouls made or born?”
As we lit through those under city zones
the monk passed on the wisdom of the Dawn
Goddess: “There are types of ghouls sadly torn
from life to undeath, and some clades are bred,
the mere existence of both sorts we mourn.
We met the living before.” He said.
I shuddered at the thought of meeting the undead.
Waist deep in water we crossed a channel
and heard a frightful sound out of the night
like blood dripping on water, a charnel
noise, the patter of the approaching fight.
Well, young Bert only caught a fleeting sight
of the battle, busy guarding the flank:
Yvor and Hemmu met claws, spit and bite
with axe and sword that they skilfully sank
into their foes, slashing them down in the dark dank.
Miao disarmed one, literally, with one blow,
and she intended not to give neither
mercy nor quarter to our last ghoul-foe
as he fled along the man made river,
but she was unable to deliver
the terminal coup de grâce in that dim
tunnel. We searched: and found one survivor.
His chances of recovery were slim:
we healed that ghoul so we could interrogate him.
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