Thursday, August 15, 2019

Dolmenwood Campaign Diary: Part 5

This is the fifth post summarizing a campaign I run for a group of three wonderful players.
·         Want to read the previous entry? Check out this post.
·         Want to learn more about the campaign setting? Check out Dolmenwood by Gavin
Norman (the Necrotic Gnome).

Amonie came first, followed by a large woman with done-up hair on her head and a pair of half-moon spectacles perched on her nose. She wore an apron covered in flour and took each step carefully, hiking it up as a skirt.
“So, these are the guests I’ve heard so much about!” she exclaimed in a shrill voice, a smile beaming from her small mouth. “How nice to meet you.” She looked around the table at each of them, but her look soured when her eyes fell on Clune. “Clune!” she scolded, “What are you doing out of the kitchen? You should be getting lunch ready!”
Clune’s eyes fell, burning holes in the table. “Yes, Mother,” she said bitingly, audibly pushing back her chair and stomping back to the kitchen.
A smile returned to Mother’s face as she finished waddling down the stairs and took a seat, the chair complaining as she settled in. Amonie moved to sit next to her, but Mother waved her away.
“No dear, that’s for Gretchen!” Mother said dismissively. Amonie paused, her face impassive, then took Clune’s empty chair.
Mother turned over her shoulder to call up the stairs, “Gretchen, honey! Come down here, please. We have guests. Don’t be rude.”
A timid woman descended the steps. She remarkably resembled Clune, like her twin, but somehow seemed prettier. Evidence of recent tears showed on her face, though it looked like she had made some attempt to clean them up. She gave the adventurers a quiet smile and curtsy, not meeting their eyes, and took the chair beside her Mother.
Mother gave Gretchen a pat on the leg, then directed her attention to the adventurers at the table. “I trust the road treated you well?”
“It’d have been a lot smoother if we weren’t robbed, Lambob grumbled. “Some highwaywomen held us up not even a mile from here. Took a gold piece from each of us.”
The girls giggled. Lambob’s anger turned to surprise, then to more anger.
“What, d’you think that’s funny?” he asked, clearly offended, his gaze passing over each of them. “People getting their lives threatened? Their gold taken from them?”
The girls giggled once more, though Amonie avoided Lambob’s eyes and looked abashedly at the floor.
“We may know who it was,” Amonie admitted. “Did she have black hair? A three-cornered cap?”
“Aye,” Lambob responded, “and a musket.”
The girls giggled again.
Shame crossed Amonies face. “That would be our sister Melysse,” she admitted. “She’s supposed to watch the woods for those who might do us wrong, but she’s gotten… adventurous, lately.”
Lambob turned his fury to Mother. “What, you just let your daughters hold up whoever comes to visit?” he asked, eyes bulging. “What kind of operation is this?” He looked around accusingly. The cats met his gaze from the rafters, clearly disapproving of the noise.
Mother heaved an exasperated sigh. “What’s a Mother to do? They need the guns to scout the wood and protect us. What’s the harm if they have a little fun while they’re out there? Besides, they only took a gold piece from each of you. They could have taken much more,” Mother offered, directing a meaningful glance between Grendel’s legs. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“If it means that much to you, I’ll give her a scolding when she returns,” Mother conceded. “I’ll get your gold back.”
“Yes.” Lambob dropped the word into the conversation like a lead brick.
“Well… onto our business, then,” Mother continued. “My daughter Amonie tells me you’re Delvers. Is that true?”
“Yes. Of a sort,” Gwomodom answered. “Just got into the profession.”
“Good. Well, I’ve got a problem I could use your help with. A monster that needs slaying. I can pay you a hundred silver pieces for its extermination. However, I can’t let you help us without securing your discretion. You see, this… monster interferes with our bakery. It poses a danger to my girls. It almost got poor Gretchen,” Mother explained, wrapping a soft arm around Gretchen and giving her a squeeze. Mother suddenly grew very serious. “And believe me, nothing threatens my Gretchen and gets away with it,” she added.”
Gwomodom noticed Clune glaring at Gretchen from the kitchen.
“However, by slaying this monster, you will learn several secrets most dear to our bakery, “she continued, “so I need your oath that you won’t share my recipes with anyone not in present company. That includes anything you see behind our house. I should tell you that this oath will be magical. We need a bit of magic around here to get by, you see. But if you break this oath, it’s your own fault. I take no responsibility for what happens, as you’re agreeing to it here and now, of your own free will. So. Do we have a deal?”
An obliging smile crawled across her face. She offered a soft, bejeweled hand.
“Yes ma’am,” Grendel said, taking her hand in his. They shook on it. Her grip was surprisingly strong.
Gwomodom and Lambob followed suit. As each of them agreed, they felt the magic spell wash over their minds like cold water. After a few moments, the feeling dissipated.
            “Good,” Mother said, satisfied. “It’s a deal. You’ll find the monster out back, in the yeast pool. Just follow the stone path.”
            “The yeast pool?” Gwomodom asked, his voice rising in excitement.
            “Yes, the yeast pool,” Mother confirmed, clearly pleased at Gwomodom’s interest. “We use it as a stock of pastry dough. The miller can’t fill our needs alone.”
            Grendel and Lambob exchanged a satisfied glance – the sort of glance two men share when they’ve confirmed something they predicted to be true.
            “The yeast is self-replicating. It’s docile, and we keep it down. But it seems to have taken on a mind of its own. I don’t know, we’ve never seen anything like it before.” Concern darkened Mother’s face.
“When Gretchen was last out there,” she continued, “it rose up to grab her. It very nearly pulled her in.” Mother stroked Gretchen’s hair where she sat beside her. Gretchen nodded to confirm the story.
            “A yeast monster is about as close to our specialty as you can get,” Grendel claimed. “Our moss dwarf here has a special knack for yeasts.”
            “It’s true,” Gwomodom confirmed. “Once, I squeezed the juice from my own toe cheese to make a sour. Delightful stuff – tasted like pickles.”
            Mother’s smile struggled to stay on her face. “Yes. How… quaint,” she mustered. “Do try to keep your – ehm – ‘cheese’ out of the pool, though. I don’t think it would suit the pastries well.”
            I’d like a toe-cheese pastry…” Gwomodom admitted, his eyes downcast.
            “Why not just send your daughters to take care of it?” Lambob asked suspiciously. “If they’ve got the guns and guts to rob honest travelers, a yeast monster doesn’t sound like a problem.”
            “Melysse would probably do it, if I asked her to,” Mother responded, looking worried. “But I’d rather not risk it, if I don’t have to. Pardon my honesty, but I’d much rather risk your lives than those of my daughters. Besides – you all are professionals, are you not?” She gave them an ingratiating smile.
            “Right,” Grendel confirmed. “So it’s settled then. We exterminate this yeast monster for a hundred gold pieces. Correct?” He looked at Mother with raised brows. She nodded in return. The adventurers then rose from the table, walked through the kitchen, and out the back door.
            “Best wishes!” Mother cheerily called from the steps. “And remember,” she added, the cheer disappearing from her voice, “just stay on the path.”
The adventurers trundled out the back door along a path of rough, uneven flagstones. After about twenty paces, trees surrounded them.
The party followed the stony path through the foliage. Suddenly, they stopped. In the middle of a glade, they saw a bubbling pool of dough twenty feet wide and three times as long. Its contents churned, rising in places and deflating in others. The air reeked of yeast.
The adventurers surveyed the glade. Lambob found a stray piece of gingerbread lying on the ground, as large as a fist. Gwomodom noticed there was no birdsong in this glade – only the sloppy sounds coming from the pool. He sniffed the air. “The yeast’s bad,” he observed. “Something’s gone off.”
Grendel stepped forward to the pool’s shore.
“Come out here, Beast!” He called, waving his axe in the air. “Or should I say ‘yeast?’ We’ve come to put you dough-n.” He turned back over his shoulder, grinning at his companions. Their eyes fell on something behind him and their faces turned white.

No comments:

Post a Comment