The Lays of the Thirteen Claws League - Session 85
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 2021/01/28.
The Lays of the Thirteen Claws League
Canto 4:
So, then, this is how this canto begins,
we’d overlooked a number of our foes,
who cowardly snuck up on poor Jenkins:
another dozen ghouls, well, so it goes.
In launches our Hemmu who fiercely mows
one down, Adam Aesalor dropped his stick,
Yvor felled the last: he’s a man who knows
how to fight. Then begins our next panic:
it turns out that ghoul spit is highly acidic.
Davin magicked up gallons of water
to wash it off: Miao rushed to find the stair-
way down, leaving that dread scene of slaughter;
but she really should have taken more care:
delvers should know that they ought to beware
of setting off hidden pit traps sometimes
– but Miao has her own elan, she will dare
do what others won’t do, even in rhymes,
in this case she dared to stand in some toxic slimes.
So, while poisoned Miao was feeling groggy
Hemmu took charge of dealing with the traps
– we had to hurry the air was cloggy –
so the great she-orc used what was perhaps
an unusual tactic of risking leg snaps
and poison by just setting the traps off
and being tough enough to take the taps:
it worked, she found the stair, and Bert would doff
his cap at her for freeing him from his damn cough.
So, we rested at the foot of the stair:
Warian blessed us and applied first aid
and other sorts of after battle care.
Oriallo* seized upon Bert and made
him play his tin whistle, while we delayed
setting off again. We took precautions,
Hemmu listened out while Childerbert played:
and from the dark came sounds and sensations
of the approach of a vast troop of skeletons.
Yvor charged in, swinging his family sword
slipped, and hewed his own leg down to the bone
but he fought bravely on, and we were awed:
but he did not have to fight on alone.
We used the team fighting tactics we hone
together, when at rest or when we’re bored.
The knight fought as if he had to atone
his slip-up of making himself self gored,
when came a spectre with the face of missing Claude!
The wraith made straight for one of our wizards.
This fierce shade – stolen from Anubictus † –
can’t be harmed like mammals, birds or lizards
so our Dawn ‡ Monk put a divine focus
on Emberwood’s stick of hocus pocus
to enable the magician to brave
the wrath of this spirit attacking us,
– ghost of a man we were too late to save
and which, sadly, was now the foul lich-wizard’s slave.
*In his aspect of Oriallo the mad: god of raw creativity in music.
†God of protection of the dead.
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