The End of Chapter 2, Recap

 

Ed. 1 Vol 2: Learning to Fly

Bravery, resourcefulness, cunning, an humility....but enough about me.

Today began much like my last entry ended with me saving a couple of poor wretches. Obviously over estimating their capabilities, two gold-thirsty adventurers were found captive in a secret cell. Because of my keen senses I, as usual, was the one t perceive their muted cries for help. It seems our "intrepid" crew has a short term memory problem because the cries for help emanated from the very dungeon that the black death almost got them yesterday. Taking up a strategic position on the stairs landing, I guard the stairs as the rest of the party descended down to inspect. For some reason, Thorindor began slamming his mailed fist on every wall when any dolt (even out explorer) could easily realize the cries were coming from the floor.

   After finally releasing the captives from their imprisonment, anybody with an "once" of grey matter between their ears could have foretold another encounter with the dark shade. As if on cue, the dark foe charged the party. For some reason our brave paladin cowered behind his shield whilst the other buffoons couldn't climb over one another fast enough to get behind my protective presence. Honestly, I think I would have done them a favor if, upon reaching the top of the stairs, I closed the door before them. Alas, every mentor must show patience. How else will these pupils of mine learn? I mean even pixies had to learn to fly at some point. So I exercised great wisdom and constraint affording my blundering band of buffoons an opportunity for growth and self-reflection. Maybe next time they see a seemingly innocuous lever they WON'T pull it.

   I fear the only contribution to our group that our rescued adventures will be is as ghoul fodder. I seriously am at a loss as to who is more dense Griff/Tharn or their captors. On the one hand, who imprisons someone with all of their possessions and countless means of escape? On the other, Griff/Tharn seemed as content as a hen in her roost by not leaving their confines or even eating from their packs. They appeared satisfied to be locked up with one another for an extended period of time. Hmmmm....I digress.

   When freed from their imprisonment, of course, it was I who thought to feed them, but did I get even the most cursory of thanks? Not one for hearing their cries for help. Not one for leading our group to their cell and defending their escape from the shade. Perish the thought that I should even receive a handshake for providing the vital needs for life!

   After an exhaustive search for the beacon downstairs, I boldly guided the way upstairs. Once again, my supremely acute senses detected a wailing. Being the intrepid, concerned leader of men that I am, I opened a door to find a distraught woman. never one to leave a woman in distress unattended, I quickly called Thorindor over to console her. I told him that it might be best if I guard the entrance against what ever Knave slighted her virtue.

   Now, obviously this was some sort of trap laid for the unwary and dim-witted. Once again, however, the little birdies must learn to fly so I used the trap as a teachable moment. By stumbling into another mistake, my hopes were that my troupe may grow from the experience. Of course the "woman in distress" was a vile deception. Our explorer got bit once again but it was not Humey this time doing the biting on his neck. THAT image won't soon leave my memory.

   About that time I asked the others if anyone had seen the cleric and our two new additions. Frankly, I may have to resort to tying bells on all my companions to keep track of them. Who else but me finds them in completely the opposite direction that I guided the party. Like leading an infant to his mother I lled them back to the correct way.

   With the goal of driving back Asmodeus and blunting his assault in our realm, I chaperoned our band to a great source of his evil. Doubtless anyone else picked up on the telltale organ music flowing through the hallway from a room. Following the foul music, we arrived at a most loathsome altar room dedicated to my foe. There were about a dozen ghostly apparitions holding concert with the music. Humey called out some bold words at them, but I think his words impressed only his beloved Bubba because they rose to advance upon the party. As I leveled my mighty staff in preparation for combat what do I notice? The entire group, save one, flee in a panic-stricken mass of fear and excrement. With a sigh of derision, it fell upon me to lead our band once again...

 

   I began my onslaught by attacking the source of strength for the apparations; the pipe organ. I hurled a lit flask of oil and the organ erupted in a cleansing flame. with their source of power extinguished, I turned my attention to the apparitions. With each mighty swing of my staff an apparition fell prey to my vigor and gallantry. Noticing his failure, I then cast a supremely powerful spell on Thorindor to assist him. My arcane prowess caused him to grow exponentially. He seemed, however, preoccupied with notions of finally impressing the tavern winches because he slew nary a ghost. I alone stood stalwart in the gap between the cowardice of our party and certain death. Clearly emboldened by my display of leadership and courage a few of the party rejoined the fray.I thought it best to leave the specters to the party at this time. My intentions were two-fold: prove protection for the still hysterical cleric and to foster a sense of accomplishment in the others however fleeting and hollow it may be.

   Adjacent to the alter room was a most intriguing puzzle room. At first glance there appeared to be nothing of note here. However, a powerful magic was at play, for when I attempted to leave I was bounced back to the center of the room. That is when the comedy of errors began. As I sat with my beloved Bobo to contemplate our exit, the rest of the party was like a shaken jar of fleas. Each of them were walking aimlessly into walls and each other. though perplexing, there has yet to be a puzzle to best me. I quickly surmised that this is a mirror room of sorts and merely walking backwards through the doorway provided an exit. Like the lemmings that they are, each of my companions followed in kind. I worry for the day when I am called for higher and lofty pursuits worthy of my intellect. What would this bumbling assortment do without me?

   Having successfully guided our troupe through the second floor of the manor, I deemed it best to return to the room our cleric wandered off to earlier. Somehow, Tharn picked up on the obvious clues and struck his new-found hammer upon a gem radiating evil. upon its shattering, one would think we'd be done with it. Oh no not with this group of simpletons. The other spellcaster (he isn't worthy to be called mage) began to actually eat shard of the gem and grew quite protective of them. Our paladin must have flashed back to his abusive youth; a time apparently rife with scurrilous priests because he began to bludgeon the caster over his "candy". Thought the punches resulted in a remarkable improvement to his face, I found the whole situation laughable and tiresome.

   While they were bickering, I devised a plan through a seemingly impenetrable darkness. While holding Humey's coc...chicken, I abley guided the party through the blinding blackness. Every Yin must have a Yang and mine is the incompetence of my companions. Our two new additions somehow got separated from the rest of us. After a harrowing game of Marco Polo all were reunited and ready to continue on with my quest. After following my initiative by climbing a ladder, i discovered some sort of storage room. it was filled with crates containing sundry items. Humey found particular interest in the peacock feathers and pillows. i don't think I'll ever understand that guy.

   At the far end of that room, I passed through a door that led to a silver dragon's treasure horde. Finally, an encounter with a a creature of like intelligence! I found Luster's company and conversation quite refreshing after the droll and mundane company of my companions. Throughout our conversation, I could not help but notice that our poor monk still felt discouraged about evacuating his bowels in the presence of my courage and steadfastness. Therefore, after much debate with the dragon, I convinced him to play along with a benevolent ruse. Luster bestowed upon the monk the title of "the chosen one". This seemed to perk him up because he immediately began dancing around with one of Humey's peacock feathers. After much rejoicing and merriment, he came to rest on the beacon letting the feather lightly fall and graze the orb. I seized this opportunity to wink at Luster who discreetly flick his tail causing it to shatter. Luster showered the monk with thanks for "freeing" him and flew off. A trite ploy but it seemed to lift the morale of our obtuse monk.

   In response to their immense gratitude for devising a plan to eradicate yet another beacon our explorer gifted me a magical cloak and staff. It is acts of praise worthy my station such as these that encourages me. Maybe there is hope yet for this mottled band of adventurers. Maybe with my guidance and leadership they may indeed learn to fly on their own.