The
Personal Journal of the Venerable Konrad Spindleshanks
Edition 1
Volume 3: The Intellectual Savior
After a successful quest to destroy Asmodeus' second beacon, we returned
to town to receive instructions for our next assignment. To kill time while
waiting for these instructions, I decided to have a frosty beverage at the pub.
It seems that tales of my valorous deeds are not only far-reaching but travel
quickly as well. Patrons of the pub instantly recognized me (most likely due to
my noble jaw line) and hoisted me upon a high backed chair. Revelers of my fame
soon began to pour into the drinking hall pleading to hear tales of my courage
and benevolent leadership. Never one to be overly grandiose or boastful, I
finally relented to their pleas and humbly retold the account of our adventure.
Overcome with gratitude at remembering my role in our success, our little
explorer placed a crown upon my head as I recounted the tales. As a courtesy, I
bore his crown to placate his obvious admiration for me, but promptly returned
it as I have never been one to laud my own heroics.
After my reception at the pub, the mayor of the city informed me that he
will be holding a celebration in my honor later that evening. The celebration
began with the hanging of a former companion on the basis of treason. The
resistance found out that he was, in fact, an agent of Asmodeus sent to
infiltrate our group, report to the empire, and find an appropriate time in
which to dispose of the resistance's greatest asset...me. Well, I guess I've
been much too trusting of my disciples and will be more cautious in the future.
It is just so easy to overlook such a bungling band of buffoons.
During the celebration, the mayor declared this day to forever be
Spindleshanks Day and proclaimed that there be an annual day of revelry in
honor of my heroics. He also gifted me with a very ornate plaque. Always the
benevolent and, likely, the most humble leader known in recent history, I made
a brief, unassuming acceptance speech. I then asked that my companions receive
some acknowledgment. After all, they attempted to shield me from my assailants
at times.
After the celebration, we received instructions about my next objective.
My companions were to escort me through the dwarven lands to Hammer Hall.
There, we would find a spider troll god whose venom sac holds the key to
obtaining a diamond sword. Evidently, this sword renders Asmodeus vulnerable to
attack other than my own.
After a night's rest, we left the next day for Hammer Hall. Upon
reaching the dwarven lands, we were met with the corpses of many slain dwarves.
Obviously, I was the only one who thought to inspect the carnage. Curiously, I
noticed that their eyes were all burned out and their chests were flayed open.
At this time Griff, our ranger, reported back to me that he had found the
entrance to Hammer Hall guarded by a lone sentry thus proving the phrase “Even
a blind squirrel will find a nut eventually”. Honestly though, how could anyone
miss an enormous entrance to a mountain marked by giant, dwarven statues (I
crack myself up. Giant...dwarven...). My companions then asked me for a plan of
attack. A craftsman is only as good as his tools and so is a leader.
Immediately, our little explorer bungled his attempts at hiding, then fumbled
his way through an attack. As the sentry sounded an alarm, I dispatched him
with a barrage of magic missiles. I guess this was another teachable moment for
our young explorer, but only time will tell if it was effective.
Descending into the cavernous Hammer Hall, we came upon a long hallway
with a door at the end. Once again, our little explorer, fumbled through his
attempts at finding a trap and caused himself and our cleric to fall into a
pit. To teach them yet another lesson, I brought a table from another room to
the pit trap. I cast a most difficult and powerful spell on the table, forcing
it to enlarge and grow over the expanse of the pit trap. Thus sealed in, they
both cried for help and not to leave them.
I now understand why a parent says this is going to hurt me more than it
will you. Ultimately, these dolts must learn to use their meager talents and I
knew they would be free to climb out in about thirty minutes when the spell
faded. Maybe this timeout will serve them well.
I walked across the expanse of the table into the room and discovered a
treasure hoard. Bars of every sort of precious metal were conveniently
organized on display. Truly, this was a recompense worthy of my skill, prowess,
and leadership. I decided to take two bars of platinum and then wait out the
effects of my spell. When the, oafs finally made their way out, we continued
down the passageway. I decided to hold the bars instead of placing them in my
pack as an open display of the reward they could have had. After a few
minutes, I thought this reminder was too hash a punishment and replaced them in
the treasure room. I made note to return to the room on the way out of
Hammer Hall. No need to lug the bars
through the caverns. Perhaps I may share a bar with the group...perhaps.
We quickly came upon the most intriguing feature in the cavern. I
discovered a pit that seemed to have no end. Knowing this pit held the key to
our quest, I wanted to stay and study it some more. However, my disciples
insisted upon continuing on. I relented to their requests knowing that the
result would be yet another teachable moment.
At each twist and turn I would sit and wait out their bungling attempts
at adventure. It seemed as if each door proved to be too much for our little
explorer and his meager talents. All too often, I heard them bursting through
doors like a drunk ogre in a half-ling's house. Speaking of ogres, our little
explorer came upon one and instead of utilizing his insubstantial skills, he
did something that truly surprised me. The little explorer inexplicably rolled
a toy marble at him. Maybe he thought challenging the ogre to a game of marbles
would confuse the brute. It is also entirely possible that the little explorer
thought he could somehow force the ogre to lose his footing on a solitary
marble. In any case, undaunted by the child's toy and the child-like efforts of
the explorer, the ogre began to ravage through my companions.
Sadly, the marble incident was the best attempt at defeating the ogre.
The mediocre party member who shares the title magic-user ( in name only),
thought it wise to summon a stinking cloud inside the ogre's lungs. I can
acknowledge what he was thinking with this attack, but what he failed to
recognize (with his own spell mind you!) is the shear volume of this spell. The
cloud poured out of the ogre and filled the room, enveloping the entire party.
Our monk groggily stumbled out of the room dragging poor Old Humey. I decided
this would be an appropriate time to intervene, and I quickly disposed of the
ogre with another onslaught of magic missiles. Of course the ogre fell to my
assault. I knew, however, that he would quickly rise again because I noticed
his regenerative properties during my attack. I let him rise again to see if the
party had learned from their previous mistakes. I really think I give them too
much credit, because once again it came to me to deal with the ogre and later
cut off his head like they should have done.
Progressing on from this passageway, we arrived at a flooded room with a
raised dais at its center. Upon the dais, sat an ornate golden chalice. I
thought that I had finally found a drinking vessel worthy of my station. The
party seemed hesitant about the chalice, so with a feat of dexterity and skill
I threw a copper piece at the chalice. Flying through the air coursing straight
and true, the chalice fell with a reverberating “ting”. Still not confident
that the chalice was indeed safe, the party did not seem to want to get their
tootsies wet. They contrived a rather unnecessary rope system as a means of
transport across the water to the other side of the room. Knowing the water was
safe, I placated them by being the first to cross the rope. After all, imagine
the painful look on all their faces when, after their efforts, I simply waded
to the other side. Along the way, the little explorer grabbed the chalice and
gifted it to me in recognition of my superior knowledge of dungeoneering.
We immediately left this area and wandered into another intriguing room.
Floating candles illuminated a mural of a dwarven battle scene on the ceiling.
Recognizing the trap that it was I immediately left. After an eternity of
waiting, I sighed and returned to find all the fools staring up at the ceiling.
Shaking my head, I pulled each into the safety of the hallway where we found
the entrance to another room.
There we found Hilde, a dwarven maiden held prisoner. Seeing through her
veils of deception, I played along with her ruse hoping that maybe my
companions might finally learn something about adventuring. My novice
companions asked Hilde where we could find the spider troll god, and, of
course, she said that the beast lies at the bottom of the pit I had already
suspected. Guiding us back to the pit, Hilde stopped and said that I should
drink from my chalice in the flooded room. My inept associates failed to notice
that my legs were not so spindly any more as every muscle in my being grew. Now
for some reason I fail to recognize, instead of heading directly to the spider
troll's lair, my sidekicks thought it best to free some dwarven prisoners.
Against my fervent advice, they proceeded to do so. I decided to wait at the
pit with Hilde. Upon their arrival, the little explorer inexplicably stated
that he wished he could just throw me into the pit! I have no idea why he would
foster such malicious thoughts towards me, but Hilde took umbrage with this
statement and promptly threw him in instead. Being the dullard that he is, Old
Humey attempted to throw Hilde over into the pit. Observing an assault on a
dwarven maiden, the freed dwarven prisoners decided to chuck the very person
who freed them over the side. Distraught and fueled with the loss of his
master's “death”, Humey's pet chicken then slaughtered the entire retinue of
dwarves.
Hilde then informed me that she knows of an easier way to the bottom of
the pit and we ran towards it before any of the others decided that they too
should jump over the side of the pit. When we reached the bottom of the pit we
discovered an enormous underground lake that we crossed to a clearing on the
other side. About this time Old Humey and the little explorer came crashing
through a portal of some sort right into the lake. This is when I sensed
Hilde's ruse come to fruition. She morphed back into her natural state; that of
the spider troll. Obviously no one's attacks proved effective except for mine.
I waylaid it with a cannonade of magic missiles and a fireball summoned from a
scroll. Most likely for the first time in its wretched life, fear crept into
the spider troll's eyes as it staggered back in obvious pain. As it teetered in
its death throws, I heard our monk muttering behind me. Most likely his
mutterings were a prayer of thanks to his god for being in my presence, because
at that moment the beast fell to its death. The party crowded around me as I
took the creature's head and venom sac as trophies and humbly proclaimed my
victory over Asmodeus' spawn.
I proceded to direct the group through a
myriad of spiderwebs to a curious well. Being the dimwitted people that they
are, each party member cast a coin into the well and made a wish. Bemused, I
appeased their superstitions and finally began to lead them out of the well. We
were all surprised to find a dwarf falling down through the portal into the
water. I was not, however, surprised when he fell to his knees at my feet and
kissed my ring, pledging that he will never forget this day; the day he met
Konrad Spi
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