R.I.P. Dimzad the Beardless

Pets

Fire burned through Gildrid's veins. Pain, ...such pain. He dropped his shield and the spider with it. Laramine sprang forward and cleaved the spider in two. He quickly pulled out a vial containing the Tears of Verena to administer to the now collapsed elf. Black and blue veins of poison spread from the bite mark like a web. Laramine pressed the healing potion to Gildrid's lips and forced a drink down. The elf came to consciousness.
The spread of poison stopped, but had not been cured. Gildrid felt terrible. His muscles burned, and his vision blurred. Laramine helped him out into the sunlight and the square beyond. It was then, that Nemon finally won his battle with the temple door. With a great crash, it caved in, Nemon stumbling behind.
The others now swarmed inside. The temple was a round, domed, stone structure, sparse in it's decor. There was a raised dias at the far end with a stone altar, and a statue behind of a stern looking, robed man. The dome above was cracked, and let a few rays of sunshine in. There were long wooden benches, jumbled all around. Several were stacked against the now demolished door. But there was no one inside. No bodies.
Laramine, used to sacking such places in his youth, stomped up to the altar and kicked it over. As he suspected, under the stone was small hole. In it, was small bag of coins, and a large gold key. The key looked like it fit the temple doors, as there were no other portals in the temple.
Gruffydd, had meanwhile, found a loose floor tile. He kicked at it, finally getting the toe of his boot underneath and shoving it off.
There was a rush of cool air, and on it, more of the strange whispers. There was a tunnel. It went through the foundation of the temple and into the earth beyond. The passage went straight down then eased into a ninety degree turn horizontally. Everyone looked at everyone else, waiting for a volunteer.
Gruffydd let out a deep sigh, "all right, I'll go first. Dimzad, you're next."
The dwarves dropped down the tight passage, shoulders scraping at the packed earth. At the bottom, they could see the tunnel was reinforced with roughly cut timbers. It wasn't pretty, but it was well constructed. "I don't like the looks of this." Gruffydd whispered to his fellow dwarf. "Seems familiar some how."
The end of the tunnel held a small, round door. Gruffydd examined it, while the others noisily slid down the hole. Dirt and dust fill the cramped passage.
The door, like the tunnel, was crudely, but well construct. It had simple wooden latch on the outside. Loud breathing, a snuffling, sniffing, noise came from the other side. That was when Dimzad decided to jab his dagger under the door. There was a loud "Squeeeeel" and then scratching at the door. Gruffydd shot Dimzad a dark look. He looked at the others and gave a nod. "Are we ready?"
He yanked the door open and the others flew past into the room with much shouting and war cries. It was enough to startle the two giant weasels beyond. They filled most of the domed, packed earth chamber, two huge versions of an every day weasel. They hissed and showed their teeth, backs arched.
Gildrid, even in his weakened state, managed to sink a few arrows into the closest. It didn't seem to notice.
Dimzad led the charge, axe swinging, bellowing the war cry of his clan. The arrow wearing weasel hissed again, gave a great pounced, and simply bit the top half of Dimzad off.
The dwarf's legs took a few steps, blood spurting from the ruined waist, and toppled.

Side Note: Dimzad, the gods rest his soul, belonged to Lead Addict's middle son, a lad of 10 years. He took the loss of his first PC very well, better than I would have. It helped that the grownups all cheered his death, and called it heroic. 
His secret background was he was the last of his kind, or in this case, clan. So farewell to Dimzad Ab Zogenbreth, known as the "Beardless", last of his clan. He joins his faithful goat Bob, in death and glory.

A Beating, and a Biting

The great wolf snarled and snapped. It paced the campfire, eyes always on Dimzad. Then it leapt and knocked the dwarf to the ground. The wolf tore into Dimzad before the others could react.
With the horses in turmoil, the camp was chaos. It was Grufftdd who noticed the scar on the wolf's left eye. "Don't kill it him, subdue it!"
The order didn't keep Gildrid from drawing a silver tipped arrow."I said subdue!", Gruffydd shouted at the elf.
Gruffydd smacked the wolf in the side of the head with is hammer. It yelped and let go of Dimzad. Laramine slammed the flat of his great sword squarely on the wolf's skull. It dropped instantly.
"Quickly," Gruffydd shouted again," tie it up".
Bound and unconscious, the creature was kept by the fire and under watch all night. Dimzad had to be restrained too, in order to keep him from kicking the captive.
With the sun's rising, the wolf began to change. As Gruffydd expected, it shrunk in mass and hair, till only a filthy, naked Logun remained. He awoke with a start, "ohhhh, my head. Hey!" he looked around, frightened. He just noticed he was bound. "What's goin' on here, fellas? Some kind a joke again?"
"At what point", Nemon asked,"were you going to tell us about your little affliction?"
"Whatcher talkin' about?" Logun sputtered.
"Werewolf!", Gruffydd shouted. "You're a werewolf!"
The old trapper's eyes went from horror, to a look of resignation.
"I always kinda suspected. But I been out here alone fer so long, I also thought I might just be going crazy. You hafta believe me, when I say I didn't means ta hurt nobody."
"Kill 'em," said Dimzad. Gildrid reached for his silver tipped arrow again.
"No", Gruffudd said with a sigh, "let him go." The others began to untie Logun. "But, you're not with us anymore. You helped us find a way across the river. That's the only reason I'm letting you go."
The old man got up, rubbing his wrists. "well, I guess I thank you fer that."
"Next time we see you,...you're dead!" Gruffydd yelled, as the old man headed into the woods. Logun turned and gave the party one last look. Gruffydd could have sworn there was a smirk on the old man's face.
By noon, they reached the ruins of a large village. The size and scope of the ruins were impressive. One could tell this had once been a wealthy town. It sat astride the Old Trade Road itself, which ran directly north. The remains of a large mill were the closest, on the west side of the road. The place was strangely quiet except for the occasional creaking from ruined shutters, or the mill's water wheel, now hanging unused above a dry creek.
"I'm headed for the temple", Nemon said, gesturing at a stone building on the east side of an over grown square.
"I'm going for the mill", Gildrid said stringing his bow. Laramine followed the elf.
Then, the wind blew. Gildrid and Laramine froze, looking at each other. Just above the sound of the wind, came the hint of whispering. "did you...?" Laramine started to ask, when his words were lost under the noise of Nemon battering the temple doors down. He bashed into the sturdy wood of the doors over and over with his armored shoulder. The noise was deafening, compared to the silence of the ruins.
Gildrid approached the ruined doors of the mill. He looked through hole that had been smashed into the wood. Inside, he could see sunlight filtering from the damaged roof. There were sacks of grain and flour, long moldered and plundered by vermin, and the great grinding wheel sat askew on it's base. The most interesting thing though, was the fact boards had been nailed to the outside of the door. Rather than try to keep something out, they were trying to keep something in.
Prying at the rotted wood. Gildrid entered. Laramine followed, along with the sounds of Nemon's ongoing struggle with the temple door. The elf put away his bow and pulled out his sword, the better to poke and prod at the different sacks and boxes laying about.
On the third sack, a shape sprung from the shadows. A huge spider, the size of shield, leapt on him. Gildrid couldn't shake it, or get sword on it. The furry arachnid lunged and bit into his neck.

Another visitor to the campfire

The drone of wings was almost deafening. Logun ran up the river bank, away. Arrows, rocks, throwing daggers, were all being hurled at the strange wasp-like things. Those that hit, bounced off harmlessly.
"We seem to have upset the nest!" Nemon shouted over the noise.
"They're not making moves towards us," Gruffydd yelled," they must be guarding something in that keep."
Without further word, Miss Adventure plopped down on a rock, and started putting on her magic boots. With a whush of air, she was gone.
Inside the broken tower, the halfling discovered interior walls packed with eggs, dripping a golden goo.
"Blech!" she she said with a shiver, and dashed out to the others. "The only thing in there is some gross looking hivey thing," she said to the party.
Gruffydd, looking over his shoulder to where Logun had disappeared, shouted, "Still, it bears investigating later. Let's get out of here." Just then, one of Gildrid's arrows struck home. The wasp-man-thing fell from the sky with a squish.
"Run!" he yelled as the drone grew louder. The party mounted, and raced up the river back, and didn't stop till they reached the road again. Out of breath, they found Logun gathering wood for a fire.
"I though everyone could use a drying off", he said.
Wet clothes were placed by the fire. A quick review of their packs found some of the rations ruined by river crossing.
"Logun," Gruffydd asked, "you're a trapper. Care to find us some meat?"
With a shrug, the old man headed for the woods.
The rest of party prepared for the evening. In the hazy distance, up the road, a ruins of large village stood. It would be another days march to their destination, if in fact, this was the village they were looking for.
By nightfall, Logun had not returned. The watches were set, and one by one the group retired. "Good," Dimzad said with a huff," I hope the ol' geazers dead."
During Miss Adventures watch, a rustling was heard in the nearby woods. She had been happily munching away on what remained of her rations, when she spied a dark shape at the edge of the trees. This shape exploded from the under brush, autumn leaves flying everywhere. With a heavy thump, a mass of teeth, claws and fur dropped into their campsite. The biggest wolf she had ever seen...

The Swarm

Everyone awoke, weapons drawn.
"Easy now, ...easy," the stranger said. "The names Logun. I'm just a simple trapper, alone in these cold woods, attracted by the warmth of your fire."
Gruffydd stepped forward, to eye the shaggy man more carefully. "Well, Logun, is it? What's someone like yourself, doing out here alone, Beyond the Wall?"
"Ask myself that every day," he said with a cackle, showing his crooked yellow teeth. He opened his cloak. Everyone tensed, ready to spring if he drew a weapon. But, instead, the insides of his coat were filled with old pelts, beaver, fox, squirrel, and unknown.
"Ohhhh", Dimzad spoke in awe. "How much for that one?" He pointed to a fine fox tail.
"Looking for a replacement?" Logun held up the pelt to his chin, mimicking a beard. A beard that Dimzad had been missing since his encounter with a oversized crayfish. They all laughed. Everyone but Dimzad.
"Welcome to our fire", Gruffydd said patting Logun on the back. He nodded to those around the fire. It was all right to put away weapons.
The talk quickly turned to the area around them. How much did Logun know about the area? Was there a way to avoid the bridge, and the toll there? What was the toll?
Ol' Nik?" Logun asked. "Biggest, meanest troll I ever did meet. And bat-shit crazy, ta boot. Last time I saw him, cost me every shiny penny I had, and some furs, too. But, I found a few ways around him."
"We'd make it worth your while," the Northman, Laramine put in, "if you could show us those ways."
"Well, I ain't much fer company, but the fur trade ain't what it used to be up here. Fewer and fewer animals these days. So, I guess, so."
The rest of the evening and late into the night, Logun regaled everyone with his adventures Beyond the Wall. There was laughter, and the dark mood of the previous day was lifted, if just for a little while. Slowly, the party drifted off to sleep. Dimzad had been the first to his bedroll, but he did not sleep. He waited.
He waited until everyone was asleep, except for Gruffydd, who was on watch. He snuck quietly out from under his blankets and over to Miss Adventure's pack.
"What are you doing?" Gruffydd asked from across the fire.
"Shhhh!" was the only response. Dimzad furiously dug through the halfling's bag. Finally, he spied what he wanted. The nastiest, stinkiest cheese Miss Adventure carried. On several occasions, it had been debated amongst the party, whether to use it as a weapon against monsters. Now, Dimzad had another use. He carefully placed it in Logun's outstretched hand. Then, with just as much care, he plucked an arrow from Gildrid's quarrel, and began slowly tickling Logun's nose.
The old trapper sniffled and snuffed, almost sneezed, then brought up his cheese filled hand to swat away the imaginary pest.
The cheese exploded in Logun's face. "What in the Seven Bowels of Hell?!" He was angry.
The party, once again awoke with a start, weapons drawn. Dimzad couldn't contain himself. He howled in laughter. It was infectious. Soon everyone, including Logun was laughing. "You got me there, shorty", he said.
The next morning was bright, but still cold and wet. Logun led them cross-country, pointing out this and that. Where he had escape a rampaging Bullette, or dodged a Hobgoblin patrol. Soon, they reached the river. At one time, there had been a ferry. The ruins of a well built imperial mile fort straddled both sides of  the quickly flowing river. All the rain lately had swollen it's banks.
"Gildrid", Gruffydd said to the elf,"you have the best eyes. What's on the other side? I don't want to get halfway across and get ambushed."
"Only a flock of birds, They seem to have roosted in the tower," Gildrid replied.
With that, they secured a rope to each other, and to a sturdy stone post, and crossed the river. To everyone's surprise, they made it across without incident.
But, as they untied and checked equipment, Miss Adventure noticed something strange about the "birds".
She yelled to the others, who followed her pointing finger to a fastly approaching creature. It had the body of an enormous wasp. Four limbs ended in clawed hands, and another two in sharp looking hooks. A nasty stinger protruded from it's abdomen, and strangest of all, it had a humanoid face. But, probably worst of all, it wasn't alone. Hundreds were swarming behind it.

Of Fires and Furs

"Yes," the Dryad said. "That is my name".
"B-but, you look different..." Miss Adventure stumbled.
"Different?" Newly asked."I don't feel different". She approached the group, but stepped back when Gruffydd moved toward her.
"Newly, do you know of village near here? Perhaps up the road?", the dwarf asked pointing up the road, which disappeared in the rain.
She gave the dwarf a questioning look. "Village?"
"Where people live" Gildrid said with a little too much exasperation in his voice.
"Oh!" Newly said excitedly, perhaps understanding now. "I know what those are." But her face grew quickly dark. "They make their places to live from my dead friends...." She began to fade back into her tree.
"Wait!" Gruffydd tried to say as calmly as possible. "We need to know where it is."
"It is, as you said, up the road. Across the river. Be careful. The trees say something up there poisons their roots."
Before she vanished completely, Miss Adventure asked one last question, "Newly, have more people come around here since we visited last?"
"Always. Always someone or something searching... for you...." Then the dryad was gone.
Then, they too, were gone, up the road.
Just before dusk they picked a campsite on one of the rolling hills that covered the landscape. It was decided not to have a fire. First, in this landscape, a fire could be spotted for miles around. It would act like a beacon for any wishing them ill. Second, the rain was still coming down. A lack of any woods nearby, combined with the wet, would have prevented a fire anyway.
So that sat, miserable, eating what cold food they had. It was decided the two Men, Nemon and Laramine, would take the first and last watches, as their lack of night vision could be compensated for by some light at dusk and dawn.
Nemon fell asleep on his first watch. He woke to Miss Aveture beating him over the head with loaf of stale bread.
The rest of the watches came and went without incident until morning. Laramine had taken a moment to simultaneously admire the first dawn in ages without rain, and relieve himself. It was then he noticed something in the mud just outside their camp. Another older campsite they missed in the rain. There were scraps of clothes, bits of crockery, all strew about as if a struggle had happened.
Without waking the others, perhaps foolishly, he followed the trail of refuse to a small ravine. There he found a body.
It was torn and crumpled. It was a Man, at least from the size and shape. The face was gone, and body had been partially eaten by scavengers. The leather armor was ripped in half as if by huge claws. In a bag beside the body Laramine found a few coins and a black hood. He ran back to the others and showed them his discovery.
"Great." was all Gruffydd said.
Another days march, slowed by the mud. The little talk on the road revolved around the body, and the oddities of dryad life cycles. Another camp, but this time the landscape had changed, and there were woods. Which meant a fire.
Nemon fell asleep on watch again.
Miss Adventure woke again with a start. Nightmares again. She saw Nemon asleep and prepared to pummel him once more. Then, she saw a huge pile of fur parked by the fire. Before she could scream, the furs moved, turned to her a said" Hello."

A Long Walk in the Rain

The others at the Hole hadn't been idle while Gruffydd was at the stables. Asking around, they had collectively gathered that the village of Ordilac or Ordilan (no one could decide on the real name) was somewhere along the Great North Road, across a river. This would be further Beyond the Wall than any in the party had ever gone. To complicate things, it seems a toll would be exacted at the bridge. Tancred, the barkeep, was unusually evasive about what the toll was. Was it in gold? In blood? He simply stated to "say hello to Old Nik" and "tell him Tancred gives his regards to his brother, Clem".
So, uncertain of their exact destination, and what they might find when they arrived, the party set out into the cold autumn rains. Weather kept the usual onlookers from watching them go. Only Sergeant Malloy witnessed their departure, and he was silent save the usual chuckle and head shake he gave them.
The Great North Road had been steadily deteriorating from lack of upkeep, and the elements for years. Combine this with steady downpour, it and took longer than usual to reach the deserted logging camp, and Newly the dryad's tree. They rested under it's branches, now covered in the orange and gold leaves of fall. Small saplings had sprouted in the area since their last visit. The little trees were trying to reclaim the area now covered by stumps.
Newly!", Miss adventure called, "Nuuuuu-leeeee!"
"Since when are you pals?", Gildrid said, sullen and wet beneath the tree.
"Shut up." The halfling replied. "I like her."
"First time you met her, you wanted to kill her," he murmured.
A shape emerged from the great oak. It was not the pale little girl they were accustomed to. Before them stood a tall, elegant, dark skinned woman in her middle years. She had fiery red hair, tangled with a few leaves snagged in the curls. Her eyes were a deep brown, like polished wood. She wore but a slip of a dress, that looked like it was made of cobwebs instead of cloth. When she spoke, it was with sound of rustling leaves, "Who calls?"

"Newly?"

Answers and Questions

It was a cold a wet walk to the Royal Stables. There was no use in being quick, the stables were on the other side of town, and Gruffydd would be soaked by the time he got there, no matter what speed.
The Royal Stables was a vast complex, capable of housing hundreds of horses, from a time when mounted patrols still ventured Beyond the Wall. It was now mostly unused except for a dozen horses and countless mice, that now called it home. The ancient stable master Hogarth was shoeing a horse when Gruffydd arrived, soaked and in a bit of a foul mood. Hogarth indicated Gub's location with a wave of his hammer, and mumbled warning, "Be careful with young Gub, mind ya. He's a bit slow. Mule kicked 'im in the head when he was little, and we watch out for 'im. Bit of a mascot around here."
Young Gub, as Hogarth called him, had grown to be a burly teenager. He was twice Gruffydd's size in height and width. He was in deep conversation with a  mouse when Gruffydd approached.

"Err, Gub is it?," The dwarf asked. "My name's Gruffydd. Mind if I ask you some questions?" Gub looked up. His face definitely looked like he had taken a blow to head. He also looked a little embarrassed and quickly grabbed a pitchfork and began moving hay.
"Gub, I need to ask you about the village you came from." The giant turned his back and worked harder. "I know you very young," he dwarf continued, "but anything you can remember about it would be helpful."
"Me Ma's dead", Gub mumbled. "She died when I was little."
"I'm sorry to hear that", Gruffydd said,"but I need to know about your village."
Gub turned, and eyed Gruffydd. "Me Ma told me stories sometimes."
"Go on" said the dwarf.
"She said people kept dis-pearin' from the village at night. Sometimes behind locked doors. Everyone was scared. Then one night, they came." Gub had started to tremble slightly.
"Who came?", Gruffydd asked.
"They was in our house. Lots of 'em. They swarmed all over Da, all claws and teeth." His voice had become a wail. "Red eyes!" Gub screeched and pulled at his hair. He dropped the pitchfork and began curling into a ball. "Red eyes!"
Before Gruffydd could speak, Hogarth burst into the stall. "What's going on in here?" He moved to comfort the boy. He glared at Gruffydd, "Didn't I tell ya to be careful with 'im? There, there Gub. It'll be all right. Shhhhh...."
Gruffydd turned, and trudged out into the rain again. More confused than before.

A New Adventure

Though it was cold and rainy outside, it was hot and smokey inside the Hole. By the fire sat six adventurers, bound by past quests, and spilt blood. Gildrid, newly freed from the Land of the Dead and looking paler than ever, sat closest to the fire. Beside him was the halfling thief known only as Miss Adventure, munching on her cheese, seemingly oblivious to the conversation around her.
The talk centered around their next mission, led by the nominal leader of the group Gruffydd, the old dwarf veteran. They had been languishing inside Wall for months, waiting for a break in the terrible autumn downpours. There seemed no end to the weather in sight, and they were steadily using up their gold.
"Lake Merr,"Dimzad, the other dwarf present shouted,"we should head for Lake Merr. I heard there's something living there. Sea monsters mean gold."
Gruffydd shot him a tired look, "And how, do you suppose, we fight some lake dwelling sea beast? Drag a boat for leagues? Do you have some magical potion for breathing under water I don't know about?"
"There's always the rumors about the village." This comment came from Nemon, the fighter from the Free Cities. He stroked his well-oiled mustache. "I hear of a village where the voices of dead can still be heard. Haunted villages might bring treasure. What say you, Laramine?"
His question was directed at the new man, Laramine, a veteran sea raider of the Kraken's Teeth. They were a cold, hard people, who still made their trade from plundering the coasts.

"I'm new to your party, so I don't think I have equal say."

He was huge hulk of a man, accustom to hardship and blood. Gruffydd eyed him over his pipe. "I lean towards the village, but we can put it to a vote". All voted for the village, save Dimzad, who sullenly turned his attention to his soup.
Gruffydd shuffled over to the bar. The old barkeep Tancred collected rumors, like others collected coins or fine art. Gruffydd slid five gold pieces across the bar. Far too much for a tankard of ale. "What do you know of a village Beyond the Wall? One that was abandoned. One where the dead still whisper."
Tancred eyed him with his remain eye. There was one I heared of. Ordiland? Ordilock? Something like that. Was a nice place. Rich place. Made money off a furs and commerce along the Old Trade Road. That was back when the Dwarves still held the northern passes, and the Empire still had contact with the coastal cities.

Almost over night Ordi-whatever, emptied. People just disappeared. Only one survivor I ever heared of. She showed up in the middle of the night, banging on the gates. Had a small child with her. She was babbling about creatures in the night, attacking her village, getting people even though they were barricaded in their houses. She died soon after. Her boy has been living in the Royal Stables, mostly watched over by the Stable Master. He might have more information."
Gruffydd and walked out into the rain seeking the Stable Master.

Everything turns to dust...

"Oh well," Nemon said. "this ruby ought to pay for a new shield".
The party gathered around the jewel and gazed in wonder.  It was roughly cut and would probably have to be cut down to get a stone worthy of display, but the sheer size would bring some coin.
After putting the jewel safely away, attention turned to the chamber itself. There was a grand hallway to the north, but Gruffydd was staring at the bizarre geometric pattern that ran around the chamber like a belt. After a few minutes study, he noticed the pattern was off in the south east corner.
"Hmmmm," he said. "There's another hidden door here. You can see where the pattern's off."
Indeed, there was a seam. A few of the ceramic tiles were recessed, like a handle. But before Gruffydd tried it, he saw there was a black paste smeared on it. Using Guthix's torch, he burned away the residue, then tried the door. He pulled it open.
There was a blast of fresh air, and a soft ray of daylight shining down from the upwardly sloping passage beyond.
"This looks like a way to the surface." Gruffydd said. "A quick way to bypass the level above. Probably comes out on the back side of one of the hills."
"Let's go," Miss Adventure sighed. "This place is gross, and I'm tired."
"Let's go just a bit further," Nemon suggested. " we still might be able to come up behind a that room with double doors that we passed."
"Yeah." Gildrid said. "That room where you thunked that morlock to the door." He pantomimed shooting an arrow, then crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out like he was dead.
It was decided to head up the northern hallway. It ended quickly at a thick wooden door. It wasn't locked and opened to a small room, richly, but disgustingly decorated. It was personal quarters of the morlock's priest by the look of it. Shabby tapestries hung from the walls. Bones littered the floor, and blood was smeared everywhere. From behind a drawn curtain, snoring could be heard. Mellion yanked it back.
Immediately a bloated female morlock snapped awake. She was obese, filthy, caked in dried blood, and very upset to awoken from her sleep. She hissed while grabbing a bone dagger.
Three arrows sunk into her white, gooey flesh at the same time. A dagger flew passed.
"Damn!" Nemon muttered, "missed again."
The she-morlock gurgled and went limp.
A search of the room revealed various statues, gold necklaces (which straws were drawn to see who would pull them off the corpse), and a potion.
There was also a door to the east. It opened into a long antechamber. Along the south wall were dozens of cubbyholes, filled with various knick-knacks. But, covering the whole shelf was a fine yellow mold.
The air smelled faintly of burnt oranges.
Nemon grab a drape from the priest's room and tried to wipe away the mold. Poof! Spores exploded and filled the room.
"Everybody out!"
The slammed the door shut.
"Now can we leave?" Miss Adventure asked while stifling a yawn.
And so they did. The party decided to climb the long secret passage and out to the surface. The sun was just going down, and no one wants to be caught Beyond the Wall at night. Mellion's horse was rounded up and they began the march back to Wall. Nemon began coughing. He kept hacking up yellow foam.
The pace quickened. The very night seemed to stalk them. They felt pursued by unseen enemies.
Finally, the Wall loomed into sight. And with it, safety, for now.

A cold reception

THWANK! The arrow flew straight and true. With a "Thud" it sank into the morlock priest's back. He howled and stood up. A quick look around and he had spotted his assailants. There was a commotion from the north and two huge guards appeared. These were the biggest morlocks yet. They wore ghastly breastplates and helmets made from bones. A few gutteral orders from the priest and they charged the hidden door.
"Shut it!, Shut it!", Gruffydd yelped.
The door slammed shut just as two crude spears smashed into it.
"What now?" Nemon asked.
"We open the door. Then fight them one on one." Gruffydd said. "I'll go first".

Mellion quickly slid the door open. Gruffydd slammed his warhammer into the skull helmet of the first guard, who fell backwards into the other. Abandoning the plan, the rest of the party poured through the opening and began hacking at the guards. Nemon's thick plate deflected the primitive morlock weapons and he skillfully beheaded one of the guards. The elves, Mellion and Gildrid cornered the other guard and brought him down.
The priest stood near the bloody idol hissing at the slowly approaching Miss Adventure, She had her poisoned dagger behind her back. Gruffydd gave a war cry and charged him. His attention drawn to the approaching dwarf, he didn't see the halfling until it was too late. She sprang, and drove the dagger hilt deep into the shaman. He howled again then fell silent against his bloody god.
"That jewel is mine!" Dimzad stomped up to the idol. He clammered up the pile of bones. He quickly became covered in blood. After a few precarious moments, he balanced himself, drew a dagger and began to pry the great ruby loose.
There was groan from the belly of the beast. "Ah-oh." Dimzad said.
A great blast shot from the central mouth of the statue. It was colder than the winds off the northern wastes. It hit Dimzad square in the face. He fell, covered in ice to floor below. The others came to his aid. Gruffydd cracked the ice from his face. Unfortunately, it took what was left of his beard, too. Dimzad was unconscious. Again.
Nemon sighed, and took the last vial of Verena's tears from his pack. He forced it down the dwarf's throat. Dimzad coughed, sputtered and regained his senses.
Nemon picked up his shield and climbed the idol. Bracing his shield between the mouth and himself, Nemon began to pry at the jewel.
Once again it belched forth cold. His shield whined and cracked under the freezing wind. At last, it popped loose. The cold stopped. Nemon dropped his shield and it shattered into a hundred pieces.

And in the depths, they worshipped a dark god

There was surprisingly little hesitation. Everyone started harvesting mushrooms. Most of the party was knee deep in beetle dung.
"Hey Dimzad," Guthix said, "these mushrooms might be similar to the healing potions. Or they could kill you."
The dwarf started crushing a few mushrooms into a blue glowing paste. He stopped, looked at the others and began to vigorously rub it into his wounds. It tingled, then burned like dragon fire, but it seemed to have staunched the blood flow.
"Try eating one," Miss Adventure said with a smirk on her face. It was no secret that she found the dwarf a loutish, brainless oaf. "Go ahead. I'm sure it will be fine".
Everyone looked away, sure Dimzad was about to breath his last. Gruffydd just shook his head and went back to harvesting.
Miss Adventure had climbed to the top of the dung heap. She spotted a small doorway, mostly covered by the pile.  "Fellas, I found a way out."
They all clamored over the top. All except Dimzad. He still stood in the middle of the room, staring at the blue mushroom. Gruffydd yelled at him. "Well? You gonna eat it or not?"
Dimzad sighed. He popped the glowing fungus in his mouth. It tasted awful. His stomach burned. The room spun. He dropped to his knees and wretched up his lunch. It glowed blue on the cavern floor.
But, amazingly he felt better.
The dwarf caught up to the rest of group huddled at the end of a stone passage. The end of the passage held a door that was made of wood, but disguised as the same stone around it. From the other side came otherworldly chanting.
"Great," Gruffydd whispered. "They probably grow these mushrooms, get high as shit, and do a kinds of crazy stuff I don't want to know behind this door".
He moved the door a crack a looked inside. Unlike the rest of the caverns, this one was lit. Candles and torches burned about the room, illuminating a thing of nightmares.
It was a large statue. It had many arms and mouths, and a great bloated body. It sat atop hundreds of bones, and bones littered the filthy floor. The whole statue was drenched in gore. Blood spattered every surface, but in the center was a large ruby glistening in the fire light. Surely this was god of the morlocks. A cannibal god.

Seated in front of the horrific statue was a large morlock. Unlike the rest, this one wore rudimentary clothes. A dirty scarp of red blanket served as his priestly robes. He seemed lost in his chanting, rocking back and forth.
Gildrid pulled an arrow from his quiver and set it to bow. He drew back and took aim on the priest.
Gruffydd whispered in his ear. "Try not to miss this time".

"Is a blue glow good?"...

"I think I figured out what the big sticks are for!", Miss Adventure yelled.
The beetle was shiny, black and enormous. It's mandibles clacked and sputtered, in anticipation of a meal.
Dimzad and Gildrid charged, despite being already wounded. The beast knocked them aside with ease. Dimzad slumped to the floor unconscious. Miss Adventure grabbed a discarded morlock pole-arm and began to distract the giant insect. Nemon threw a dagger and missed, again. He then grabbed another strange pike and helped the halfling. Gruffydd slammed his great warhammer into the beast's carapace, there was an audible "crack". Mellion went in swinging.
It began a dance of sorts. The beetle would lunge ahead, whack a party member, then be forced back by Miss Adevture and Nemon wielding pikes. Finally, the creature was cornered, it's back to a small passage.
Mellion saw an opening. He dashed under the belly of the beast thrust his sword in deep. He barely managed to dive out of the way as the beetle crashed to the ground.
The party looked around. They were all bruised or damaged in some way. Dimzad was out, almost dead.
Before the group had left Wall, Gruffydd and Nemon had visited the Temple of Verena. A few donations had granted them five vials of "Verena's Tears". These magic potions, from the goddess of healing, were known to heal any wound or sickness. After using all but one, most of the party was invigorated. All except Dimzad. The battered dwarf had simply taken too much damage. He was alive, but barely walking.
"Look down here!" It was the ever inquisitive Mellion. He was peering down a roughly hewn passage to the south. It wasn't big enough for the beetle to have come through and there was a earthy smell to the place. And an unearthly blue glow.
Slowly, the party moved down the passage. It was muddy and slick, with a gentle downward slope. There were also two parallel furrows cut into the floor. After a few twists and turns it opened into a small cavern.
Piled against the wall was a large pile of what could only be beetle dung. And growing in masses from it, were hundreds of blue, glowing mushrooms.

Deeper

The sword bit deep into the wood, missing the eyeslit by inches. There was a hoarse cry from behind the door. The lever would be pulled, the alarm would be raised, filling the tomb with hungry Morlocks!
"Coming through!" Nemor charged from nowhere and put the full weight of himself and his armor into the door. The hinges gave and the whole door smashed inward on the morlock guard within. There was a wheeze and a gurgle from under the door. Gildrid pried his sword free, then plunged into through the eyeslit.
Everyone gave a collective sigh of relief. There were no noises of alarm, no horde crashing in from the dark to eat them.
Guthix walked up to a sheepish looking Gildrid, "Smooth. Real smooth."
"Least I didn't waste my only spell for the day!" Gildrid retorted.
After a quick scan of the room, the party moved to the intersection. Half went north, half went south. The northern passage ended in a carved out section, recently used to house the great ape. All they found was a dirty nest of straw and rags.
The southern passage simply ended. No door or steps. The dwarves poured over the hallway, looking for any secret doors or traps. There was definitely a sliding door at the end of the passage, but no way to trigger it. Nemon walked back to the guard room. Close examination of the lever inside showed that there were three marks on it. It was currently in the top position. They knew the lowest position set off the alarm. So he took a breath, then slid it to the middle position.
CLANK! Shoomp! "Hey! Nemon! It worked", Miss Adventure said.
Indeed. Where the passage had ended before, was now a dark flight of stairs heading down. These steps were different from earlier ones. They were narrower, and construction was newer and less skilled.
They turned back on themselves and ended at a landing.
Unfortunately, the torches alerted the four morlock guards at the bottom.
They were big brutes. Yellow fanged and their nearly white skin filthy. They gave a low growl and charged, brandishing strange long hafted pole-arms. Nemon threw a dagger and missed wildly. The rest leapt forward to meet the guards. There was mad swirling of weapons. Dimzad and Gildrid were heavily wounded. Mellion got a thump on the head, while Gruffydd only suffered  a few scratches. Three morlocks dropped lifeless to the floor. The fourth made a break for a hallway ending in two reinforced doors. It surely led to more morlocks.
Thunk! An arrow pinned him, dead to the doors. Miss Adventure smiled, and put away her bow.
Before anyone could take stock of the situation, the ground vibrated, and all attention moved to the lumbering shape emerging from a huge cavern to the south.
A giant beetle. A giant carnivorous beetle.

Into the Dark, again

Sobbing, Dimzad hacked away the wooden stakes to free the body of his goat. Gruffydd quickly explained to Guthix and Nemon, that the trap hadn't been there the last time they entered. Someone was prepared for visitors. Down the long steps, the pits were still there, along with the iron spikes that were driven in to attach ropes to cross them. But someone had loosed the spikes to give way when weight was applied. Gruffydd pounded them in again, the echoes drifting into the dark below.
The pits were crossed quickly, without mishap, until it was time for Guthix. Whether overconfident, or just lost in thought, the young magician lost footing a plunged into the second pit, But, instead of plummeting to his death, he found himself falling into a crude net, strung not ten feet from the top.
"Hey!" he yelled, "get me outta here!"
It was dwarves that hauled him up. The net was made from white fibers. Hair, maybe?"
"Look in here!", Miss Adventure said. It was the chamber where they had battled the orcs. The torchlight revealed the bodies were gone, but dried trails of black blood lead away into the depths of the tomb.
The bodies must have been dragged away. The trail lead into the burial chamber of the king, then to the former lair of crab spiders. The body that had been there was gone too. The gory trail stopped at the closed door to the hallway where they had fought the giant albino ape.
The door was unlocked. The hallway beyond was quiet. It had a intersection at the end, where the carcass of the ape was gone, too. The hallway also had two doors. They knew the one on the south side was full of refuse and bones. The door on the north side had held a guard station, with a lever inside that had alerted the creatures below.

"We got lucky last time", Gruffydd whispered to the others. "I bet there's a guard this time.
Gildrid was elected to investigate. He slid along the north side of the passage till he was right next to door. His elven ears picked up harsh, rasping breathing on the other side of the door. Someone, or thing, was watching through the eyeslit in the door. Gildrid took a deep breath, readied his blade, and made ready to thrust it through the eye slit.
He lunged,... and missed.

back to the Tomb

The rest of group could see Dimzad's flailing legs and and muffled cries. After a few moments they decided to grab hold of his legs and dragged him out. He was battered and bloody, and missing a large chunk of his beard. He slumped, degraded into the mud. "We can't get at tose critters till we get past that thing," Gildrid observed. Looking down the dark hole, he could still see it, waiting to pounce, but just out range.
"Here!", Nemon trudged up, and unceremoniously dropped a bloated corpse from up the creek in front of the hole. "That outta get him out."
Sure enough, after a few minutes, the giant crayfish emerged to investigate the bounty at its door. Wham! Dimzad slammed his ax into the creatures head, while Gildrid pinned it with an arrow. It squirmed, then went limp.
"Alright," said Mellion, "who's going in?" Everyone tuned to look at Miss Adventure who was absentmindedly eating a pear. She groaned, pulled out her dagger and climbed in.
The tunnel went in about 15 feet, then dropped quickly straight down. She peered down into the hole. She could here screeches and growls, the 3 pairs of eyes appeared below. A shriek. Then a lot of eyes coming up toward her.
Miss Adventure turned and scurried out the hole. Splash! "They're right behind me!"
But, instead of following, the kobolds began collapsing the tunnel. A few arrows and bolts were shot down the tunnel, but whether they hit or missed was unknown.
Muddy and empty handed, the party returned up creek to see what Gruffydd had recovered. It turned out to be little. There were a few coins, some daggers, which Nemon took after he assured them that he was quite the knife thrower, and some leather belts and bags. The corpses, both horse and human, were riddled with black fletched arrows. No one knew quite what to make of it. They began the hike up the hill to the tomb.

The tomb was much as they left it, although someone had cover the entrance up again, hiding it with vines. The door slid much easier this time.
Dimzad looked distressed, not only because he was bleeding and missing half a beard, but because he gained nothing in return. "What am I going to do with Bob while we're inside?"
Everyone looked at each other, then at Dimzad. "Who's Bob?", they said.
"The goat," Dimzad replied. "I can't leave him out here. "I know, I'll take him with us!"
He picked up the goat, who was not happy about being picked up, and pushed him through the entrance.
SHOOMP!  A group of 4 sharpened stakes hammered down from just inside the entrance, impaling the goat, and pinning it to the floor.
"BAAAAWWWWBBBB!!!!"

The Fight at the Creek

Mellion's horse was not a warhorse. And as such, it reared short of the little monsters. He swung wildly with his sword and missed. The creatures leapt at him. One dug a nasty dagger into the elf's thigh. The other slashed at his ankle. The dagger went in deep.

By now the rest of the party was on the way. "Kobolds!" Gruffydd shouted.
There was a rush of wind and a blur as Miss Adventure blew past the rest, off to the southwest to cut off the fleeing creatures. This was followed by a loud "Shaa-kow" as brilliant blue magical bolt leapt from Guthix's hands to slam unerringly into a fleeing kobold. The creature exploded in a dazzling blue flame. Chunks of meat rained down into the creek and further frightened the kobolds already running. "Crap," Guthix said. "I forgot, I can only do that once a day." The young magician cursed under his breath and trudged down the hill.
Mellion had managed to hack one of the kobolds to death, and the other was quickly dispatched by a charging hammer blow from Gruffydd. The rest of the party went after the fleeing kobolds, who were now dropping their loot to run faster. Nemon brought up the rear, clanking behind is his heavy armor.
Thunk! An arrow from Gildrid skewered another kobold, but the creature kept running. The little monsters were so busy looking over their shoulders they nearly ran into Miss Adventure. She drew her dagger that was now tainted with Crab Spider venom, and grinned at them. "Boo!"
The surviving kobolds were terrified now. They were trapped between an obviously fearless halfling, and a crowd of heavily armed strangers splashing down the creek. "Let them go!" Gruffydd bellowed. "We'll follow them to their lair!"
"No! Kill them now!" It was Dimzad, bouncing along on his goat. His blood was up, and he wanted a kill.
Miss adventure stepped aside. The kobolds looked at her nervously and saw the opening to run. They scurried off, carrying their wounded brother. The party followed at a safe distance, except for Nemon, who was winded by all the running in armor, and Gruffydd, who had stopped to examine the loot.
The party followed for a few minutes by lost sight of the kobolds once they reached an area where vegetation had sprouted along the creek. After a few minutes searching they found a hole in the side of an embankment. The sides banked up with mud, and kobold footprints betrayed this as their hide out.
Dimzad, though the hole was just big enough for him, dived in head first. He barely had room to move. The tunnel was pitch black, but his infra-vision showed movement ahead. "Gotcha!", he said.
A mass of claws and legs shot from the black. It was the biggest crayfish Dimzad had ever seen. He had seen big ones too, found in the pools and depths of his mountain home. Before he had time to react, this one clamped a claw around his face, slowly crushing his skull.

Return to the Tomb of King Loras

The day was bright and unseasonably warm for winter. A fair group of Wall's citizens had assembled to watch the adventurers leave on their return to King Loras's tomb. Two weeks had passed since the group had returned, battered and bruised, with tales of bandits, orcs and foul things in the dark. The had gained two new recruits, Nemon, a mercenary from the the Free Cities, and a young magician, Guthix.

Alabazium would not be joining them as he was away at the library, researching tomes to decipher the scrolls he had found. Neither would Gwynfor be along. He had debtors to pay.

So it was that the elves Mellion and Gildrid, the dwarves Gruffydd and Dimzad, the halfling known as Miss Adventure and the two newest members left the safety of the gates and went again, Beyond the Wall.

They were rested and re-equipped. Mellion and splurged and bought himself a riding horse. Dimzad had settled on a goat for his mount, though the ill tempered little creature kept stopping to graze, and had to be led most of the way. About noon the reached the massive tree of the little dryad, Newli.

"Newli!" Miss Adventure shouted. "Newli, it's us. Your friends."

"My friends?' A little pale face had appeared in the branches above. 

"Yes. Us." Miss Adventure gestured to the rest of the group. "Have you any news?"

"News? Newli looked perplexed. 

"Has anything happened since we were here last?', Gruffydd asked

"Oh! Men. Lots of Men on horses came. They looked very cross. They looked like they were looking for something. Is that news?" Newli smiled.

"Yes,"the old dwarf said as he turned to his companions."looks like we should get going." Then to Newli, "Thanks again, we'll be back soon."

The party left the old logging camp behind and headed northwest, where they knew the old tomb stood.

After about an hour they crested a hill. Below them a small creek ran between the hills. At a ford in the water was a scene of carnage. The corpses of three bloated horses and two figures had dammed the creek. A half a dozen small creatures were stripping the bodies.

"Charge!" Mellion shouted. The impetuous elf drew his sword and put spurs to his horse. Gruffydd put his hand over his eyes and sighed. As Mellion flew down the hill, Guthix began a eldritch chant and Gildrid drew his bow. Miss Adventure calmly sat down down and put on her Boots of Speed.

The creatures were small. Smaller than even a halfling. They had scaly rust colored skin and small horns. They were somewhere between a dog and lizard in appearance. They were gleefully stripping the bodies until they spotted the elf charging pellmell straight at them. Six scattered and began splashing south along the creek. Two stood, gave a soft growl, and drew their tiny knives.

Drums in the Deep

The great ape bared its yellowed fangs and swatted Mellion aside. The elf slammed into the far wall and slumped to the ground, bloodied. Its attention shifted to the party. Gildrid readied his bow. Gruffydd and Dimzad charged. Alabazium backed away and Miss Adventure disappeared. Further back in the tomb, standing by the sarcophagus having a smoke, Gwynfor felt a breeze go by.
Miss Adventure found herself by the steps to the tomb, not quite sure how she got there. The experience rattled her.
Meanwhile, the dwarves hacked away at the huge white ape. Gildrid was pelting it with arrows. Most bounced off its thick hide. Gruffydd was struck in the head, but the ape was wearing down under the repeated blows of the party. Finally, Mellion stood, and from behind drove his sword into the creature's hide. It gave one last growl and dropped to the floor.
Afterwards, while Mellion was busy hacking open the corpse of the ape with great delight, Dimzad and Gildrid checked the south door of the earlier passage. It creaked open. Alabazium held up the light. The floor was heaped high with garbage and rats. There were bones and offal, blood and filth.
They shut the door and backed away. The north door was checked. This door had a viewing sit cut into the door at roughly man height. Gildrid attempted a listen at the door. Dimzad banged on it.
"Will you stop?" the elf asked. "All I can hear is your stupid banging."
The door was locked, but a few whacks at the lock with Gruffydd warhammer knocked it open.
It was empty save for a few filthy blankets and a bucket in the corner filled with urine. On the wall near the door was a wooden lever.
"Looks like a trap door", Gruffydd said after eyeing it a few moments. The party decided it was best if they stood in the room when the lever was pulled. A deep breath, then the lever was pulled.
Nothing. Then a sliding, hissing noise. Then a loud crash down below. Then a BOOM! Then drums. Drums in the deep below. Howls and shouts and the sound of many feet.
The party paused and looked at each other, then ran. They went barreling down the passages. "Go. go, go go, go!" Gruffydd shouted at Gwynfor as they passed him. They finally reached the main entrance hall where they battled the orcs. They found a befuddled Miss Adventure.
"We'll form a semi circle here at the hallway, so we can out number whoever it is", Gwynfor instructed.
The party followed and waited.
First, they heard the gutteral shouts in the dark. Then, a few crude spears clattered to the floor in front of the group. The hallway before them filled with a mass of stinking grey shapes. They had long stringy hair, and feral red eyes. The had the appearance of degenerate humans, bent and twisted.
"There's too many", Gruffydd shouted over the monster's cries.
Mellion, Gwynfor and Dimzad threw their flasks of lantern oil at the floor in front of the onrushing creatures. Alabazium tossed his torch.
Whoosh! Flames filled the hallway. The albino creatures fell back, howling. The party turned and made for the entrance. Miss Adventure turned to run, and found herself at the top the stairs, with the party bellow, two pits between them.
With the help of the ropes they had hammered in earlier the crossing up the steps went well, for all except Gildrid. At the first pit, probably distracted by the creatures behind them, Gildrid missed and fell into the pit. He managed to survive the fall, but just barely. Dimzad volunteered to go in after him. He cut the rope from one side and slid down. After securing the rope around Gildrid, they partly climbed and were partly pulled from the depths. No sooner had they escaped the pit then the pursuers were on them.

The chase went all the way up the long stairs. Gwyndor and Mellion had been busy at the top, prying the  entrance open. Just before the creatures were on them, the door opened. The last bit of sunlight of the day filled the stairway. The creatures howled and retreated. Apparently they didn't care for the light.
The party emerged from the tomb, beaten and bruised, squinting against the daylight.
The sun would be down soon, and their pursuers would soon follow.
"Back to the road, and south to the wall," Gruffydd said. "And hope we don't run into our bandit friends."
They didn't. They reached the road as the sun was setting, craning their necks in ever direction, looking for pursuit. Along the way Miss Adventure discovered she could cover great stretches of ground in short bursts. It winded her quickly and the disorientation it caused made her slightly nauseous. She decided her pretty boots would be put away in her knapsack for now.
When the party reached the Wall it was night. They were cold and hungry, and ugly stretch of stone separated them from civilization never looked so beautiful.
A lone figure leaned out from the heights at the top.
"Have a nice walk?"

I Don't like Spiders...

They were part spider, part crab and the diameter of a tavern table. They hissed and spat, venom dripping from their fangs. The party formed a semicircle, trying to keep the circling crab spiders to their front.
"Hah!" Gildrid jumped forward and spitted one on his sword. The other one lunged at him and missed, tearing his cloak. The elf turned and pinned the other one to the ground. "Cool. I'm going to put some that venom on my sword. " Gildrid said happily.
"Me, too!", said Miss Adventure.
"Cut 'em open," Dimzad said. "There might be treasure inside."
Gruffydd, disgusted, turned away to check the rest of the room. There were two wooden doors, iron bound, in the otherwise empty room. After it became evident there was no treasure amidst the black guts of the crab spiders, the party decided on the north east door.
It was unlocked, but it took some work to get the centuries rusted hinges to let go. Inside the chamber was the familiar rectangular shape seen before. This one had been lived in. Ancient tombs of the north were sometimes open to the public, as places of worship of the ancestors. Priest, therefore lived in these tombs to act as custodians. This was obviously one of the priest's private quarters. A bed, table and chairs, and long rotted away under the weight of the ages. Dust covered everything. Along the south east wall, a book shelf still held. Alabazium eyed them, drooling with anticipation.
"Scrolls!" Dimzad yelled, then leaped across the room. His big, calloused hands ground the ancient scrolls to dust. A single tear rolled down Alabazium's cheek.
"Nice one, Hammy-hands'" Gruffydd said. "Sure your name isn't Dim-whit?"
But all was not lost. Amid the ruin of the scrolls, a single lambskin parchment remained. It was wax sealed with a dove symbol. He carefully placed it in his sack.
Dimzad, properly chastised, began to look around. "Hey, there's a place on the floor where the dust has been blown away". Sure enough, where shelves met wall, a faint triangle of dust was missing. After checking for traps, Dimzad and Gruffydd pushed the shelves inward. They swiveled on a central axis to reveal a small closet or pantry. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with all sorts of spoiled food stuffs and bottled curiosities. There was a lot of coughing, because of the dust. Tucked away in cubby holes and jars were gold and gems. A black box was found containing a small vial of black sludge, which Dimzad quickly pocketed. Gildrid grabbed a fancy robe, the only one that didn't fall apart when touched.
Another scroll was found, bearing a picture of a wolf. It was quickly handed over to Alabazium.
"Ooohhh, these are pretty", it was Miss Adventure. She had found some boots tucked away in a dark corner. They were velvet with little wings stitched on them.
Being a halfling, she could never understand the need for shoes. These were so pretty however, she had to try them on. They fit perfectly. Everyone got a good laugh as she tried to walk around in them.
The party left and went to the other door across the entry chamber where the spiders were. This door was locked. Much pounding and pulling finally broke it free. It opened to a hallway with a "T" intersection at the end, and two doors, north and south along its sides.
Mellion, as always, bounding to the end of the hallway. "Hey! The hall goes north and south."
There was rumble. Then a sharp hoot. The ground shook, and giant, fanged, dirty white ape bounded from the darkness of the north passage.
"When is he going to learn?" Gruffydd said as he readied his axe.