The Thrappled Lemmings and the Bridge Guards (Rangers of Shadow Deep)

  "Bergsveinn Brigidsson, get back here right now and do your chores!"

"Mum, I'm a Thrappled Lemming now! I'm going on an adventure!"

"No, Bergsveinn, do as you are told and come back here! No adventures for you until your chores are down!"

The angry woman yelling in the street bore a strong resemblance to Bergsveinn the Grubby, and she was clearly unhappy with her son. Aethelwyrd pondered this fact.

"Maybe you should return to your mother. Family is important," she suggested tentatively.

"NO!"

Bergsveinn practically stamped his foot but held himself at least a little in check.

"Look," he continued, "I know the commander of the Rangers has ordered you to investigate Tor Varden. I know the way there. Do you? I hunt the forests round here and know all the routes."

Aethelwyrd pondered this fact too. She knew roughly where Tor Varden was but her knowledge was all drawn from maps. It would definitely be an advantage to have someone who knew the area with her warband.

"Hmm, OK."

She turned to Bergsveinn's mother.

"Brigid, mother of Bergsveinn, we need to borrow your son and will pay well for this."

This last was only a small fib. After all, if all went well there would be minions of the Shadow Deep to loot and Bergsveinn as a Thrappled Lemming would get a full share. The question really was whether he would live to collect his share of the loot. Still, it seemed to sway Brigid.

"Hmmph, how do I know you are telling the truth? And if you don't pay him well, I'll make you do all of his chores, see if  I don't! I'm not afraid of you. I know you for the scum you are."

Aethelwyrd was a little hurt to be called scum so openly. Most called the Thrappled Lemmings that behind their backs and in hushed tones, just in case they were in the area. As the old saying went: Speak of the Lemmings and they'll appear. She pretended not to hear it and hurried the Lemmings out of town.

As they crept stealthily through the thick brush and rocky ground, Aethelwyrd commented, "I had my doubts about you Bergsveinn, but at least you do seem to know your way around here."

Bergsveinn had led the group unerringly on the path less travelled towards Tor Varden. Ahead was a bridge and an Orc encampment. All the Thrappled Lemmings had to do was defeat the bridge guards and the route to the tower would be open. In open skirmish formation, the warband crept forward.

Overview of the terrain. Blue arrows show the Thrappled Lemmings initial movements. Red arrows are the Orcs

The Orcs seemed more intent on the far side of the river as they patrolled near their camp, rather than into the woods itself. Only two archers seemed to be actively looking for enemies. The rest seemed to be guarding their treasure from their fellows.

The Orcs guard their treasure. The pig is a treasure token

Bergsveinn cursed as he nearly stepped in a trap left by some previous hunter or perhaps a more cunning Orc than the usual.

Aethelwyrd moved into the cover of a large standing stone carved with runes: Gunnvor built this bridge for the soul of her husband Karfi. Hroerekr carved them.

Whoever Gunnvor was, she had arranged for the bridge over the river to be built, replacing the ford that was marked by ancient pillars that indicated it was once roofed and perhaps had been a bridge in its own right.

The Orcs continued to patrol near their treasure, but the Lemmings' luck had run out. The two Orc archers moved directly towards her hiding place, spotted her and loosed arrows. She easily ducked the shots, but the Orcs were shouting the alarm in their fluid language that seemed to contain no consonants.

"To me, my Lemmings!" yelled Aethelwyrd, there being no reason for stealth any more. The other orcs might not react immediately, but the two archers needed dealing with.

And that is how the fight started. Purple dice are Orc hit points remaining

Bergsveinn fired an arrow that nicked an archer. Aelfwyn shot another archer and wounded it badly. The others leapt on the two archers that had spotted Aethelwyrd but the archers defended themselves well and no advantage was gained. Aethelwyrd leapt into the fray and badly wounded the Orc, which then slashed Aelfwyn with its dagger. The Elven archer fell to the floor blood gushing everywhere. The archer that Bergsveinn had wounded shot and pierced the spotty youth through the torso. Bergsveinn collapsed to the ground with a moan of pain.

Two Orc attacks. Two 20s on the attack roll! Ouch!!

The other archer managed to carve a scratch on Kalfr's arm but it was not serious. By now the other Orcs were becoming aware of the Lemmings' presence and half of them started moving towards the heroic warband.

Everything's funny until someone gets hurt!

Galvanised by seeing their fellows fall, the remaining members of the warband went to work on the archers with a will, and both archers quickly fell. Meanwhile, a battered looking man-at-arms emerged from the woods near the Orcs' camp. He was immediately attacked by an Orc spearbearer and soon bore several wounds. Aethelwyrd was heavily wounded in the fight with the Orcs and Kalfr too. The Lemmings were very much getting the worst of things. Worse yet, more Orcs were crossing the bridge towards them.

Some days you just can't roll high to save your life. sigh

Reinforcement

Aethelwyrd redoubled her efforts and managed to slide a blow past the Orc's guard. It died on the end of her blade and she moved to aid Onund. As the fight got more desperate and more Orcs joined the melee, the Lemmings fought even harder and more Orcs fell. The guard from Tor Varden slew his foe in a swift cut and thrust of spearfighting.

And then some days you score well.

A hard-fought fight with more Orcs on the way

As the melee continued, the guard from Tor Varden raced to aid the Lemmings, ducking shots from the last Orc archer. Kalfr fell to a blow from an Orc spearbearer but was immediately avenged by Aethelwyrd. Ash took two heavy blows from the Orc leader, but Onund returned that favour. The only people left unwounded were Onund and the Orc archer. And then it started raining heavily. Bad enough having to fight, but doing it in a heavy downpour was just miserable. At least the Orc archer would have a harder time of it now.

The dice giveth, the dice taketh away.

The life of a Ranger of Alladore is hard and bloody

Aethelwyrd's sword sliced across the belly of her one remaining foe and the Orc died even before its entrails hit the ground. She raced over to aid Ash and Onund. Ash, though badly wounded managed to manoeuvre into position, and his dagger found a vital spot on the Orc leader and blood began to gush from its side. A second strike at the same spot left left Ash covered in blood and the Orc dead. The man-at-arms, seeing that the bridge was now clear turned to engage the last remaining Orc, while Onund rushed into the enemy camp.

Aethelwyrd rushed to aid the man-at-arms, who had badly wounded his opponent, but was felled by a heavy blow in return. Ash raced into the enemy camp to investigate it. He was too badly wounded to do much else. Onund grabbed the Orcs' treasure sack and headed off to aid Aethelwyrd.

"Ware!" yelled Ash, "More Orcs!"

An Orc spearbearer had appeared wandering through the forest back to camp.

None shall pass!

Aethelwyrd and Onund charged the Orc archer and slew it with ease. Ash searched the camp and found a set of keys that he recognised as being to Tor Varden. As the new Orc approached, Aethelwyrd and Onund took up position on the bridge to face it. Ash muttered something about scouting ahead and headed off in the direction of Tor Varden.

Portents!

A harsh cawing noise was heard as an extremely large raven appeared from the direction the Lemmings had come.

After the hard fighting previously, this new Orc was easy meat and Aethelwyrd cleaved it in two with a single blow.

"Quickly," she said to Onund, "Let us gather our comrades and move out. Those ravens are birds of ill omen. I fear we must outrun whatever they portend."

The Thrappled Lemmings tallied their injuries and bandaged them as best they could. Aelfwyn had lost some toes and would limp for the rest of his life. He was more worried about his damaged boots leaking, but managed to get a new pair that fit well enough from an Orc. Bergsveinn's jaw was smashed and his face disfigured but they were able to fix him up well enough to carry one. Kalfr was badly wounded and needed bed rest, but they were in the field so he would just have to be careful instead.

"You, what's your name?" barked Aethelwyrd.

"Umm, Hagbard, ma'am!"

"Congratulations, Hagbard, you are now a Thrappled Lemming. Come with us. You can show us the best route to Tor Varden."

First time playing Rangers of Shadow Deep for a while and I had a couple of false starts with this scenario. In the end I got the rules right and the scenario was good fun. I love the sneaking up phase and wish I had done it better so the warband could have taken out the Orcs (standing in for the Gnolls listed in the scenario) one by one in sneaky weasel fashion. Maybe next time I play this scenario, I can manage that. Now to finish making the interior terrain for Tor Varden so I can play that scenario.

The Thrappled Lemmings: The Eternal Party (Rangers of Shadow Deep version)

 In another time and another place, across immeasurable tracts of space, a group of adventurers had gathered in a tavern, as was tradition. As was also tradition, this was not the first tavern they had drunk together in, and it would not be the last. It was also neither the first nor the last they would be ejected from. However, and this is the crux of our tale, it was the first in which they were drinking as newly enlisted members of the Rangers of Alladore.

"We need a name," announced one of their number, "a brand identity so that all who serve the Shadow Deep know and fear us."

There was a chorus of agreement... then silence. They thought. They cogitated. They drank.

They drank some more.

"I know! The Thrappled Lemmings. It's mysterious and terrifying at the same time," announced their leader.

"Terrifying to tavern-keepers everywhere," muttered the tavern-keeper sotto voce.

"Brilliant!"

"Awesome!"

"A toast to The Thrappled Lemmings!"

"Landlord, more ale!"

"Show me your gold first."

The Thrappled Lemmings fumbled drunkenly in pouches and pockets and managed to scrape together enough to pay their bill plus the next round. On the morrow, they would venture forth as Rangers of Alladore to put the fear of The Thrappled Lemmings into the Shadow Deep. Tonight they would celebrate their new name and their cameraderie.

The Eternal Party was reborn. Arising wherever a group of adventurers gathered together to fight ineptly and chaotically against evil, The Thrappled Lemmings were more a force of nature and the gods, than even they knew.

The Thrappled Lemmings (L to R): Warrior-Scribe Aethelwyrd Hawksfield, Ash the Scop, Onund Clovenshield, Kalfr Longsnake, Bergsveinn Brigidsson the Grubby

Somewhere in the multiverse, two gods sat at a game board.

"Why do you always do this, Artorax? You know that Thrappled Lemmings card is meant to be removed permanently from the game once played. Permanently destroying the card is the point of legacy games so that the game is changed."

Artorax sniggered and pointed at the pile of torn up Thrappled Lemmings cards beside their game board.

"I can't help it if the designers included more than one of the card in the game."

Artorax's opponent gave the God of Instability a black stare, "Did they though?"

He looked through is hand, contemplating how much better life would be if the other gods were interested in playing this game, smiled and played a nest of giant spiders.

"Your move, Artorax."

Diarmuid Oakstream the Conjuror, RIP. Slain by giant spiders

Yup, the Thrappled Lemmings are eternal. Now that the Five Leagues from the Borderlands campaign has reached a logical stopping point, I am going to play through some Rangers of Shadow Deep. I do plan to return to Five Leagues from the Borderlands, because I have a bunch of new factions to paint, but I need time to paint them and I have been playing it for a bit now, so time to play something else for a wee while.

I began playing Rangers way back in 2021 (like about forty 2020s ago) and I plan to carry on from there rather than begin anew, because I have plenty of new scenarios to play with more on the way. It is likely to take a little while to pull together the specific terrain I need for some of the scenarios, but everyone needs a project. Fortunately, I think I can proxy most of the monsters from the figures I have accumulated for Five Leagues from the Borderlands, so there's that.

If you want to prepare for more shenanigans by finding out what happened previously on The Thrappled Lemmings in the Shadow Deep you can read their adventures and mishaps at the links below.

Introduction

The Infected Trees

The Deserted Village

Five Leagues from the Borderlands: Some thoughts after 60+ campaign turns

 The Thrappled Lemmings have completed their quest successfully but I feel like this is not a firm and final conclusion to the campaign. I almost want to carry on trying to complete everything that has shown up on the campaign map. My choice to end the campaign with the final level of the Temple delve was made at the start of the campaign. It was an arbitrary point to end it in some ways, but it also fits the narrative of acquiring enough wealth to retire. It is in the nature of a sandbox campaign that there is always something more to do, just like life. This is the real strength of Five Leagues from the Borderlands.

I have really enjoyed getting the campaign to this point. There was no point during the campaign where I could not be bothered. The random events, constant addition of new unexplored areas to the map, generation of contracts and quests and all the other things that happened along the way have built a  fun narrative for me. They helped make my party real as I decided how they should respond and what they should focus on. Of course, if you don't like roll and write type games, then the amount of dice rolling in Five Leagues from the Borderlands may not be to your taste. I still maintain that it is a very well constructed rules set.

While the campaign went well, there were a couple of negative things. The main one was choosing a mystic as my avatar. He was not as actively involved in winning the battles as I would have liked. As my avatar, I wanted Lysanthir to be a hero, not a supporting character. Part of this was the spells he had, but the rules are not written for wizards who use pyrotechnics and lightning bolts. Nevertheless, with different spell choices, he could have been more active in the fight and exploration. For a future campaign, I shall probably take a warrior as my avatar instead and have a mystic in support, unless supplements come out that have more offensive mystics.

The other main negative thing was that, at times, it felt like the hostile forces were too easy to beat. In part this is because I fought each hostile in increasing order of difficulty, but the party seemed to level up faster than the difficulty increased. Where my party did suffer, it was most often because I made mistakes, and only rarely because of really bad dice rolls. My willingness to use story points freely will have contributed to this. I used them to enhance the narrative rather than mechanistically. In a future campaign I might use Story Points more mechanistically and/or introduce some of the difficulty increases that the rules suggest, but then I am constant in my inconsistency and the narrative needs of the campaign could easily trump the mechanics once more.

All in all, I consider buying this game to be good value for money. I have played a lot and had a lot of enjoyment from it. That goes beyond just playing the games but to the whole process of collecting and painting the figures, making the terrain from the earliest stages of printed 2D terrain to sorting out nicer 3D terrain, and writing the story of the Thrappled Lemmings. I don't really enjoy painting figures, but this campaign has kept me focused on fettling old figures and painting new ones, and that has been a positive process with positive outcomes.

So, where next?

Lysanthir is nicely set up as a Friend/Patron in the campaign world now. He has a quest on the books, a Strange Map and some Vital Information that can form the basis of a new campaign. Wido is in a position to be a new party leader or to be a resource to be called upon for a new party. I have figures for factions that did not appear in this campaign waiting to be painted. That means that I could carry on in the same area exploring the unexplored areas, delving the undelved delves and following the unfollowed quests. I could also buy the supplement The Ancient Land of Dust and send a new party off there on a quest for Lysanthir to find out about the Serpentine Arts. I just wish this was available as a physical book and not just as a pdf. I am really not a fan of pdf documents for my gaming.

The plan is to mull over the campaign ideas for a while and see what most takes my fancy. As usual, the set-up will be a mix of what the rules say and what I think best fits the narrative. The only thing I am sure of is that I shall mostly start from scratch regarding my party so that I can try different options and see how they develop. Now, while I am mulling things over and preparing, what should I play next?

Epilogue: The Thrappled Lemmings and the Giant Mound of Treasure (Five Leagues from the Borderlands)

The Thrappled Lemmings knew the way back to Fikaby well and the trip passed uneventfully. Carin the Seamstress had a letter that needed delivering to Elsfjord Kloster, so the party took the opportunity to deliver the locket they had found at the same time. The weather was miserable on the way there and they roads muddy and deep. They were hugely grateful to arrive without having caught their death of a cold, although Wido did complain that he could feel some sniffles coming on.

After completing their errands in Elsfjord Kloster, the party travelled to Haitabu, where they met Asmundr the Mendicant and returned his treasured silver ring to him. There they sold the rest of their loot and dissolved the company of adventurers known as The Thrappled Lemmings. Each of them was wealthy enough in his own right to fund a new company of adventurers, but they were all ready to retire after the close run in the Temple. They said their farewells and departed. Only Lysanthir remained in Haitabu. The others had plans elsewhere. Each of them promised to stay in touch, but each also knew this was a lie.

The Thrappled Lemmings, scourge of taverns and evildoers everywhere

Lysanthir sat nursing a flagon of ale in the Ferret and Hose in Haitabu. It had been a couple of months since the Thrappled Lemmings had cleared the Temple of Elemental Evil. He was disgruntled because they might have missed something there, but was doing his best to be content in the knowledge that everyone had escaped alive, and the important thing was that he had recovered the magical tome that was his original goal. He had studied it intensively and was learning new spells and new magical lore. He had done what he set out to do, and he had become really quite wealthy along the way.

His wandering wizard's hat now hung on a peg by the door of an old tower that he was renovating just outside town. The treasures he had accumulated filled its vault and he was using them to acquire new books and new lore. He had a map that might point him in the direction of more valuable lore and treasure, but deciphering it would take a while. He had various documents that the Thrappled Lemmings had acquired along the way that could also offer opportunities for knowledge and more wealth. The only thing he was certain of was that he would not lead the party himself next time. He had wealth enough to pay others to do it for him.

He drained the last of his flagon of ale and thought about getting up and going home. As he did so, a full flagon thumped down in front him.

"For old times," declared Wido, for it was he who had put it there. He thumped his burly frame down on a stool at the table and raised his own flagon of ale in a toast to The Thrappled Lemmings.

"Did you know that job opportunities for a Slayer of Aberrations are limited? Seems like no one wants to let you take up a peaceful career like becoming a baker's apprentice. I tried. Always thought that crafting bespoke baked goods would be a good career path for me. Nope, it's all kill this monster, raid that hostile camp, and put your life on the line for us for little reward. At least with the Lemmings I knew the rewards would be good. Don't suppose you have room in your tower for a live-in baker?"

Lysanthir took a long draught of his drink and looked at Wido.

"You know, I just might. How do you fancy training a new company of adventurers by day and baking by night? Or vice versa. You can train them by night and bake by day if you prefer. I have a lead on some new sources of wealth and will need help."

Wido reached out his arm. Lysanthir grasped it. They were in agreement. Wido would aid Lysanthir in his research and quests and Lysanthir would ensure that Wido had time to bake. The Thrappled Lemmings had dissolved their company, but that did not mean that they would forever remain dissolved.

Turn 61: The Thrappled Lemmings and the Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Level 7 (Five Leagues from the Borderlands)

 The Thrappled Lemmings had spent the last week telling the villagers of Fikaby tales of their adventures, and now those tales had grown in the retellings. The Thrappled Lemmings were truly legends in their own lunchtime now and the villagers agreed, just as long as the Lemmings kept picking up the bar tab. This had affected their finances in a fairly large way, but they were not too worried. Their next trip into the Temple should leave them enough to retire comfortably on, but their reckoning, as well as being the final showdown with that cursed deranged cultist. To get there sooner, they paid for Wido to go to the healer, who was better than a quack, and had Wido fighting fit in very little time. After a trip to the market to sell more loot and to buy more supplies, the Lemmings were ready.

They trekked the well-worn path to the Temple and descended into the damp cold air of the lowest level of the Temple. Fulrad scouted ahead and reported that there looked like many more opportunities to strike it rich here.

Once more I rolled Undiscovered Depths and added three more exploration markers. Not sure what the odds on rolling that same result so often are, but I'll take it.

There was only one entrance to this level, so the Lemmings formed up and prepared to follow their scout. They were sure the cultist would be here, but did not know what else to expect. They figured they had pretty much annihilated the Synod of Reason by now, so whatever they found would be the remnants of that or the twisted summonings of the deranged cultist and any allies she might have found.

As I have now fought every foe on the cultist list, this level will mostly be occupied by foes from the dungeon denizens list. This is where it gets problematic, because I have painted up all of the options but only used half of them. How can I possibly choose between so many cool options. I let the dice decide and they chose The Eternal Guard, grim-faced warriors who swore an oath of eternal service to their lords. Even in death, they serve to guard their lord's tomb. Those oaths can be twisted, and the cultist most certainly seems to have done that.

"Right, stick together and watch each other's backs. We're going for that cultist as fast as we can and we'll deal with whatever else is here after that, if we can."

Sir Thiebault's face was grim as he gave out instructions. Despite himself he had learned to like this inept bunch of misfits and did not want to lose any of them just as they seemed to be reaching their goal of wealth beyond the dreams of avarice and also becoming and effective unit.

It was not long before Fulrad spotted and engaged the first group of cavern denizens. The Eternal Guard of some long dead lord still roamed these halls protecting them from whoever might wish to steal their lord's treasure. The Lemmings moved into action. Four of them engaged the undead and made fairly short work of them. They could hear in the distance the chanting of the deranged cultist and the atmosphere got damper with each rise in volume.

Onesipe and Drogo headed down a side passage to check it out and found their own undead to engage. Onesipe shot two of them before they could engage him, but the third cut him down quickly. A vaporous shade rose from Onesipe's body.

Drogo swung his axe hard and sliced the Shade in two. Then he turned his attention to the remaining Eternal Guard and cut it down too. As he checked a stash of treasure, he realised he had awoken more of the undead, so he raced away. Finding another stash of treasure, he managed to awake even more of the Eternal Guards. Loaded down, he raced back towards the others.

As Drogo was waking the dead, the others were fighting their way through a horde of undead while the deranged cultist's chanting grew ever louder. Suddenly there was a gushing noise and a cry of triumph.

"Face my water elemental, Thrappled Lemmings! You will drown on dry land!

This was followed by a shout of horror and a squelching, squishy scream.

"Wait! No! Attack them not me! Aaaaarrggh!"

The cultist had failed to control her summoning and the elemental had taken its revenge! The Lemmings arrived just in time to see the cultist suffer the same fate she had promised them. They attacked the elemental with a will. Wido was the first to engage it and fell to a lashing pseudopod, water dripping from his mouth and nose. Sir Thiebault raised Soul Render and attacked the elemental with renewed vigour. His blows fell fast and furious on it and he had soon wounded it in several places. While it was distracted by Sir Thiebault, Fulrad stepped in and administered the coup de grace. The elemental's structure disintegrated and water flowed everywhere.

With undead now approaching from all sides, the remaining Lemmings regrouped in the summoning chamber and prepared to face the oncoming threat. It was a hard fight and more undead were attracted by Lysanthir's spellcasting, but soon all had been laid to rest. It was time to search the caverns properly.

Drogo nearly fell into a poor of green slime, but dodged away just in time. Then they found a good hoard of treasure but disturbing it awoke more of the Eternal Guard. The Lemmings set to with a will. It was not enough. Exhausted from the fighting, Drogo slipped and was laid flat by a skeleton guard. A wispy shade arose from his body and Sir Thiebault dispatched it instantly.

As he did so, an Eternal Guard cut him down and a vaporous shade took his place too.

Fulrad and Lysanthir cut this shade down but the skeletons smashed Fulrad so he fell beside Sir Thiebault and Drogo.

Seeing himself alone against the monsters, Lysanthir activated the sorcery in his Thief's Boots. Suddenly the Eternal Guard and Shade could not detect him. He grabbed as much loot as possible and took to his heels, all the while thanking his lucky stars that he had obtained magical boots that would let him do this. Even with the others out of the picture, he had a great haul of treasure, and he was particularly pleased that he had found the mystic tome that was the object of his quest. With this tome, he would learn even more spells and magical lore that would make him one of the foremost mystics in the land.

As he studied the book by the camp fire, the other Lemmings drifted into camp. They gave Lysanthir sour looks for not aiding them. Apparently, with them lying motionless the Eternal Guard had lost interest and wandered off, so they were able to sneak out in ones and twos, but they would really have expected him to help them. Only Fulrad was actually wounded and that not seriously. Drogo's helmet had taken the brunt of the blow that felled him, while the others had merely been knocked senseless. Despite the sour looks towards Lysanthir, they did not hold a grudge after they reviewed the hoard of treasure that they had accumulated. Gold could mend a lot of rifts between members of The Thrappled Lemmings.

As they sat and pondered how lucky they had been, it began to rain and then a full thunder storm broke out. The bad weather lasted several days with the Lemmings not able to travel easily from their shelter. This gave Fulrad's wounds time to heal, so all the Lemmings were fighting fit by the time they were able to set off for Fikaby again.

So much carnage! I got to the end of the fight with the water elemental and was almost disappointed at how easy this level had been compared to my expectations. And then the guarded stashes started turning up and I had to fight as many undead again as I had originally placed in the delve at set-up. One of the worst things was that anyone they killed became a Shade, thus adding new monsters even as your party is cut down. I felt like anyone taken out of the fight in this way should be killed permanently beacause of the Shades appearing, but chose to roll for injuries in the end. The injuries rolls were phenomenally lucky. I had some herbs that would give me a reroll on the injuries table and used that on Fulrad. The others did not need it. This was just as well because I had no story points left to reroll their injuries.

I must also admit to taking a huge amount of delight in the deranged cultist being slain by her own summoning. That made me cackle when it happened! The rules call for the summoned creature to appear at a random entry point on the table, but in this and the previous three levels, I chose to have it appear in the summoning circle in front of the cultist for narrative reasons. It was just more aesthetically pleasing.

Turn 60: The Thrappled Lemmings Hang Out (Five Leagues from the Borderlands)

 With nothing to do but wait for Wido to heal, the Lemmings hung around Fikaby like a bad smell. They could have done something more useful with their time, but really could not be bothered. Still, the locals enjoyed their stories and were happy to feed them, so things were not bad at all.

The fed Wido tonic and took him to the healer, which helped. Lysanthir spent time studying. He could feel himself becoming cleverer by the second and was roundly teased by the other Lemmings for his sudden use of even longer words than usual. He went off in a sulk to the market where he sold more of their loot and bought vital supplies.

After that, the Thrappled Lemmings retired to the pub to fortify their souls before they returned to the Temple.

Turns 58-59: The Thrappled Lemmings Regroup and Return to the Fray, Temple of Elemental Evil Level 6 (Five Leagues from the Borderlands)

 The wandering healer they had met before arrived in their camp as they rested up and ate yet more of their rations. Lysanthir and Sir Thiebault had no luck with their foraging or hunting either.

"We need to restock," announced Lysanthir.

The others agreed, so they headed back to Fikaby where they were able to return Tancred's book to him.

After resting up a bit, Wido started to complain about arthritis in his shoulder. He got really worried when Lysanthir announced that he might have a bad case of hypochondria and ate extra food to build himself up against that.

In the Flagon and Firkin, the Thrappled Lemmings regaled the locals with their tales of derring do. As long as the beer kept flowing, the locals sounded impressed. Meanwhile, Drogo worked on his axe work. He did not want any more close shaves like the last one.

Lysanthir took the group's loot off to the market to sell it and to buy new supplies. With his pack bulging with supplies and gold, he was very happy when he returned to the others and organised them for the return to the Temple. With their bellies full of good food and beer they were quite cheerful as they descended to the next level of the delve.

They were soon sweating. This level was unusually hot. With several routes into the new level and all of those narrow passages, the Thrappled Lemmings split up. They hoped to be able to meet back up as the passages joined up together again. Fulrad scouted ahead as usual.

I can't believe that I have rolled extra Exploration Markers on so many levels in a row.

"Looks like they stashed all the treasure in the lowest levels," Fulrad told the rest of the party, "I have a feeling that if we survive this, we are going to be rich! Surviving is the issue though. Looks like the place is heaving with Fey Nightfolk and that bloody cultist is back."

"Right, let's move out. Don't get caught in a narrow tunnel again," Sir Thiebault ordered the other Lemmings, "If it looks like that will happen, back up to the nearest open space behind you so the others can work with you. And, hey, let's be careful out there!"

They moved out as ordered. This might be a rough fight, but the rewards would be substantial ... if they survived.

"Nightfolk, Sir, fahsands of 'em."

Fulrad was the first to spot the enemy approaching down a narrow corridor. Having learnt his lesson, he stayed in the chamber he was in and called for Wido to back him up. Both drew their bows and began firing as the Nightfolk approached. Arrow after arrow was fired down the corridor and Nightfolk fell hard, but more were attracted to the fight. It was hot work and was getting hotter by the second. Drogo joined him as Onesipe and the others shouted the alarm. They had spotted more of the Nightfolk and were retreating rapidly to the others.

"I bet that bloody cultist is at it again," muttered Wido as he took aim and put an arrow through a Nightfolk lieutenant's face in spite of the fog swirling around that obscured his target.

Wido falls

Suddenly he was hit in the face himself by a knife thrown out of the fog in the corridor. He dropped where he stood. Fulrad killed the knife thrower in retaliation. They were nearly out of arrows and the Nightfolk were upon them. Suddenly the heat in the caverns increased tenfold. A shout of triumph was heard.

"Kill the Lemmings!" screamed the deranged cultist, "Kill them all!"

Hot in the delve tonight!

The hissing of elemental flame reached their ears as a fire elemental bore down through the passageways towards them. It came down to a hard hand-to-hand fight as Nightfolk and Reaver sought to reach the Lemmings, and the Lemmings sought to kill them all before the elemental reached them. Soon, the Nightfolk had all been slain or run away. Only the Reaver remained. There was a pause as the Reaver was driven back. Fulrad used this break to shot the Reaver through the chest. Hearing her ally slain, the deranged cultist fled.

"My elemental will destroy you, Lemmings! And I'll be back to reanimate your corpses!"

The Lemmings caught their breath and prepared for the elemental which squeezed easily through the passages despite its size. As it neared them, it blasted out a jet of flame. Drogo was engulfed and fell like a stunned ox. Fulrad just managed to duck out of the way in time.

Drogo is toasted

The Lemming's morale plummeted but they had little choice left but to fight on. By now they were all out of ammunition and their arrows just seemed to burn up as they passed through the elemental rather than harm it. The elemental bore down on them.

"Take that, you fiend!"

"Taste Soul Render," yelled Sir Thiebault and was true to his word. The elemental shrieked in agony as the magical sword cut tendrils of flame from it. It redoubled its attack but Sir Thiebault was a good match for it. He drove it back and back, and then with two quick blows he severed the essence that kept it in this world. The heat in the caverns died down. The Thrappled Lemmings checked their fallen comrades. Lysanthir broke some Silvertree Leaf under Drogo's nose and the smell brought him round. He had just been stunned by the heat. Wido was more seriously injured and would not be fit to fight for some time.

With their comrades settled, the rest of the party scoured the caverns for treasure. The haul comprised a very mixed bag of potions, herbs, weapons and other useful paraphernalia plus enough gold to keep them all comfortably for a while. Most of the gear would sell well too, so they were quite satisfied. They returned to the surface and settled in to rest before returning to Fikaby. They would need to give Wido time to recover because the lowest levels of the Temple would be challenging without him.

That was easier than I expected. I really feared the Poison ability of all the enemies but they never rolled any 6s, so it became a moot point. Moreover, the narrow corridors made it easier to stand back and shoot as they approached. Even then, it all came down to the hand-to-hand, but the Nightfolk did not feel as tough as the undead last time around. I suspect it is because they could be stunned, which gave me an advantage. That said, this scenario cost me all my remaining Story Points to keep the heroes alive, so the next one has the potential to be particularly brutal.

The elemental did not feel that challenging either. Its ranged attack did some real damage but it needs a higher combat bonus to beat the Lemmings now that all are 9th or 10th level and are starting to max out their combat bonuses. If it had got more hits in, it could have been deadly though. Here are the stats I used. Please let me know how it works for you if you use it:

Fire Elemental

• Speed: 5"
• Combat: +1
• Damage: +2/+2
• Armour: 4
• Toughness: 6
• MP: 3
• RR: 2
• Traits: Ethereal, Area Attack (12", Damage +1/+2)

Turn 57: The Thrappled Lemmings and the Return of the Deranged Cultist, Temple of Elemental Evil Level 5 (Five Leagues from the Borderlands)

 "Ugh, this camping is not good for me," whined Wido. He had the sniffles again and was feeling very sorry for himself. That did not stop him tucking into his breakfast with gusto though.

Lysanthir managed to find a dose of Ironshield Root, which Wido promptly ate to offset his sniffles. Sir Thiebault's hunting expedition failed to find any game at all. All else sorted, the Thrappled Lemmings girded their loins, pulled up their socks and put their best foot forward in the direction of the next level of the Temple.

Fulrad led the way in and quickly announced that this level was, like the last one, likely to be replete with treasure.

Once more the scouting roll resulted in the placement of additional exploration markers. As long as they are not traps or hazards, this is a good thing.

As Fulrad pushed on, followed by the others, he quickly saw a group of gravewalkers just as they spotted him. One of their number was clearly less rotten than the rest and its eye sockets glowed with eldritch blue light. Fulrad fired his bow at the undead captain but it was deflected by its armour. The others moved up to join the fray. Wido found himself unable to get past the captain's defences, but Sir Thiebault quickly slew one of the lesser undead that accompanied the captain.

"Forward, lads. Keep your guard up and work together," yelled Lysanthir from behind the others. He then moved into position and cast Meekness on the captain.

"That should take the sting out of your blows," he gloated.

The spell had the right effect. As Wido moved to attack the captain, it seemed slower and weaker. Wido landed two mighty blows on the creature and it crumbled to dust before his eyes. Drogo and Sir Thiebault then moved in to finish off the last of the group of undead, but the Lemmings could hear even more approaching.

The cavern they stood in was filling up with gravewalkers now and the fight was on as both sides stumbled over the rocky, uneven floor. The Thrappled Lemmings settled in for a hard slog.

Onesipe sighted carefully and fired. The skull of the gravewalker lieutenant shattered and the monster turned to dust. The rest of them swarmed the Lemmings and the fight swung back and forward with neither side gaining any advantage. Lysanthir took the opportunity to cast Mobility on Wido who suddenly found himself adapted to the rocky floor and able to move normally.

"Why the Hel did you not do that before?"grumbled Wido.

Then there was an earth-shattering roar as the distant chanting of a deranged cultist reached a new pitch. The delve shook and a sound like rocks grinding against each other joined the other noises of the battle.

"Ah, crap!" swore Lysanthir, "That sounds like that cursed cultist has summoned an earth elemental. better carve these gravewalkers up real quick because we are in for a hard fight."

The fight was long and hard, and more gravewalkers joined the fray as it went on. The Thrappled Lemmings slowly whittled the undead down, but there was a nasty moment when Sir Thiebault fell to the floor. Fortunately, he had just stumbled and the gravewalker's blow passed through where his head had been moments before. Wido was badly wounded, but a Heal spell from Lysanthir patched him up. The party prepared to move on. This time they would get that cultist and stop her summoning more evil elementals.

As the Lemmings advanced up the narrow corridors, more gravewalkers appeared. Drogo was in the lead and was hard pressed to stand against them. Worse yet, there was no room for manoeuvre. He would have to stand until he fell, and then the others would have to step over him to take them on. Drogo swung his axe for all he was worth. Bone flew from the gravewalkers and he received cuts in turn. After an age, he managed to cleave the skull on one of them and it crumbled to the ground. He damaged another but he was exhausted. A slight slip led to him leaving himself open and the gravewalker's blow felled him. The others would have to take up the fight now.

Fulrad was next in the firing line. He was fresher than Drogo and quickly slew the remaining gravewalkers. The party moved on. Fulrad was advancing into a cavern when a sudden loud howling blasted through the cavers. He had triggered an alarm that would surely draw more gravewalkers to it!

As the party advanced further into the caverns, they encountered more gravewalkers and found the site of the deranged cultist's summoning. Unfortunately, they also encountered the result of that summoning. Just as Wido and Sir Thiebault dealt with two more gravewalkers, an earth elemental squeezed through the passage into the cavern they were in. There was just time to bandage their wounds before they returned to the fight.

The elemental roared a challenge and charged at Wido, who fended it off, but could not find a weakness in its armour. Sir Thiebault roared a challenge in return and charged. His sword found a weak spot between two stone plates and the beast howled in fury at the pain Sir Thiebault had inflicted. Molten magma flowed from the opened wound. Inspired, Wido raced in and opened the wound further with his spear. The monster was slowing now. But not enough. As Wido and Sir Thiebault worked to kill it, it lashed out at Sir Thiebault and sent him flying 30 paces through the air to smack into the wall of the cavern. The only thing that saved him was his armour but he was still badly hurt though not out of the fight yet. Despite being badly wounded, he raced back into the fight. His blow struck true and the elemental collapsed into a pile of rubble.

The others raced for the summoning chamber and got there just in time to see the deranged cultist fleeing the scene, demoralised by the death of her monster.

She shrieked the words, "I'll get you next time, Lemmings!" as she fled.

The Thrappled Lemmings checked on Drogo, who was groggy and bleeding, but would be fine with a little rest. The subsequent search of the caverns revealed a pile of loot, but Wido was ambushed by a gravewalker as he searched. Fortunately, he was able to fight it off and carry on. With the cavern looted of everything moveable, the party returned to their camp on the surface and counted their booty. It was a good haul. Most of the items were bits of armour from previous delvers, but a bejewelled belt and a sword with more decoration stood out from the rest. Lysanthir examined them.

"This belt is a Belt of the True Warrior," he announced, "It will aid a warrior who is separated from the rest of the party. The shimmering runes on this sword tell me that it's name is Soul Render, and that it was owned by the the legendary hero Ulfbright Grimsson."

"Oh, don't think I have heard of him. When did he live?" Onesipe was always one for picking up little snippets of history to drop into conversations in a bid to sound intelligent. He continued, "Hey, wasn't there a guy in the tavern the other week called Ulfbright? Left suddenly without paying his bill."

"Yes, I think this so-called legendary hero lived until about Thursday last week, judging by the state of his remains. Doesn't hurt to advertise a bit, I guess, assuming you live long enough for the advertising to work."

The Thrappled Lemmings pondered the fate of this erstwhile hero and Sir Thiebault laid claim to Soul Render before anyone could protest and gave the belt to Drogo because he seemed to need it most.

That was a tough scenario and took longer than any of the other ones I have played. It cost me a bunch of story points to keep the Lemmings in the fight, and the only reason that Drogo is alive is because I spent a story point on him to keep him that way. If this keeps up, I shall be out of story points before halfway through the next scenario.

The gravewalkers have a combat bonus that gives them parity with the party, so much of the fight came down to the heroes rolling better than the gravewalkers and having the counterattack ability. Having better armour, especially the two characters with Harness of Vengeance which inflicts wounds on the enemy if they wound you, really helped.

Thematically, it was really cool that the cultist failed her morale check and ran away after the elemental died. She will be back next level.

Earth Elemental

• Speed: 5"
• Combat: +1
• Damage: +2/+2
• Armour: 4
• Toughness: 6
• MP: 4
• RR: 2
• Traits: Charge, Knock Back