Dennis “Widseth” Baird was kind enough to write an entire novella for event last year entitled “Hope for the Lost”.  He even allowed us to publish the novella to raise $2,000 for cancer research. 

And he was not finished.  Below are three epilogues he created for the Novella which tell the story of our heroes’ journey through the 2008 TD adventure.

A big thanks to Dennis for his continued awesomeness.  And you can check out some of his published works HERE.  The photo below shows Dennis as he wins the Bard Contest in the True Dungeon Tavern.

“Hope for the Lost”

Epilogue I

I looked back at the screen in Ekdar’s room.

When Widseth finished his song, Gearon spoke, “I suggest open the scroll tube the drow gave us.”

“I agree,” Nightshade said.  “We need any advantage at this point.  I feel there is little need for secrecy now.  The enemy surely knows we are here.”  She looked around at each of the companions. One by one, Spellweaver, Dougal, Apteryx, Kithren, Bloodwolf, and Widseth nodded their heads in the affirmative.  Gearon broke the seal on the scroll tube and withdrew the scroll, but as he did so, the scroll contorted and reshaped itself into an image of light.  A drow priestess bowed low and began to recite a message:

“Oh Great and Mighty Iuz,

I send along this message as a warning regarding the place you have chosen to make as abode for you and your Generals during the Greyhawk attack.  While the abandoned monastery offers an elevated and guarded position, it offers a great peril henceforth unknown to us until today.

First, I have learned through the use of deliciously painful methods that there is a secret entrance into the monastery that traveling monks often used to enter a series of chambers.  They proved their worthiness to enter the monastery by besting several tests that awaited them. 

Second, it has come to my attention that the now desecrated monastery grounds can be blessed again if some holy orb relic can be returned to its rightful resting place.  The sage Slithigarriett believes that this Blessing of the Grounds will banish all evil outsiders from this world for seven years.  Beware!  For our army will surely perish without the strong hand of your Greatness and that of your generals.

I urge you to take extreme measures to protect yourself from this previously unknown threat as our plans would all be dashed should this plan come to pass.

Your Faithful Servant,

Taron”

“What was that?” I shouted at Ekdar.

“It was a drow priestess.”

“No, not that,” I said.

“What?” he asked.  “I didn’t see anything.”

“There were eight shadow people, dressed in loin cloths, with only a dagger in their hands.  They ran past my grandfather and his company.  They were misty figures . . . like they were made of smoke.”

Ekdar rose from his chair and paced back and forth across the room a couple of times.  He scratched at his chin and then smiled at me.

“Well, if you must know—it’s the space time continuum thingy.”  He puckered his lips and squeezed his bottom lip before continuing.  “It’s kind of amazing that you would notice.  We try hard not to . . . well, I . . . just shouldn’t say any more, but hundreds tread the footsteps of your grand—uh . . . Never mind.  Look.  They’re starting through the passage.”  He bit his lip and stared at the screen, ignoring me, as if what he had said was taboo.

I decided to let it go, and I looked back at the screen.  Grandfather and his party had entered into a large cavern.  Dougal and Kithren immediately spotted a pool of water against a near wall of the cavernous room and took a defensive stance there.

“Over there,” Dougal hissed.  “Against the wall.”  He pointed to a small mound in the shadows of the cavern.

Gearon and Spellweaver hurried to where he pointed.  A crumpled heap of bones leaned between the wall of the cavern and a stalagmite.  Widseth and Bloodwolf stood at the ready in the center of the chamber.

Nightshade ran her hands over a smooth section of the wall.

“I think there is a door here she said, but there is no apparent mechanism to open it,” she said.

“I can see it right here,” Apteryx said.  “It’s a slight indent that looks like a cross.  It can’t be natural.  I must be a depression for the key, but where is the key.”

“I think it might be here,” Gearon said.  “There’s a pouch with these skeletal remains.  And there’s this.”  He pulled out a wooden object.  “It looks like an odd key, but this square ring thing prevents it from fitting into that depression.”

“Let me see it for a minute.  There’s some writing on the side of it.”  But as he reached for the ‘key’, a creature swooped out of the dark ceiling and latched onto his neck.  Stirges swarmed each of the party members, attaching on necks, arms, or backs.

Nightshade drew a dagger and cleanly sliced a creature’s neck.  Kithren drew her sword and prepared to strike at the stirge on Dougal’s chest, but when Dougal saw that, he jumped into the pool of water.  Apteryx wrestled a creature and pinned it to the floor with his boot while Nightshade finished it off.  Bloodwolf caught hold of the neck of the birdlike creature on his chest and twisted it.  Kithren had the most trouble.  She nicked herself with her own sword and the stirge bit her twice before Spellweaver cast a chain lightening spell that ended the attack, killing all the stirges.  Dougal climbed out of the pool.

“I drowned mine,” he said.  “And look what I found in the pool.”  He held up a scroll tube and several pieces of gold. 

Gearon inspected Kithren.  “I don’t think there’s any disease.  Drink this and your wounds will heal quickly.”  He gave her a small potion.

“Let’s see the writing on that ‘key’ and see if we can get out of here,” Spellweaver said.  “I don’t want to waste another spell on these foul creatures.”  He rubbed some of the dirt off the side of the wooden piece.

The Orb of Pelor travels far             His Hope, a warmth, of that star        It spins around so we can see            The truths we seek are then set free. 

“The Orb.  Good.  We’re on the right track,” Widseth said.

“But what does it mean?” Dougal asked.  “I don’t think we’ll see the stars down here.”

“Can I see the wooden key?” Apteryx asked.  “We need to find the truth to be set free to go forward through that door.  This cross kind of looks like a star, except for this wooden piece we can’t get off of it.  Something has to spin here.”

Nightshade took the ‘key’ from Apteryx and placed it on a smooth section of the floor.  She spun it.  Something clicked and the key expanded making it easy to slip the square ring off the key.  She smiled. 

“Now I think the key fits,” she said.

“Indeed,” Apteryx said.  “The spinning star sets us free from this room.  Well done.”

“Gather your gear,” Gearon said.

Nightshade fit the key into the depression and a hidden door spring caused the door to open.

Kithren led the way through the secret door into a narrow corridor.  The cavern walls changed to mortar and stone.  Every few feet a copper disc with a sun face decorated the wall.  Quietly the party entered a large chamber with more of these copper faces on the walls.  In the center of the room they saw seven short pillars whose tops were finished with a 45 degree flat top.  These flat stone surfaces contain seven different male faces and a ledge.  The seven pillars surrounded a larger floor to ceiling pillar.  Dougal and Spellweaver inspected the columns.

“All these faces are different,” Dougal said.

“It’s like they represent something,” Spellweaver replied.  “I’m just not sure what it is we are supposed to do.  Each of these faces appears to have an evil look to them, but all are different.”

“There are plaque type tiles over here with a word on each,” Widseth said.  “Lust, temperance, charity, kindness, diligence, humility, patience.”

“Of course,” Gearon said, “the seven virtues.  Pelor’s monks would be expected to be able to match the virtue to the corresponding vice.”

Bloodwolf and Kithren had been inspecting the wall of the room, searching for a secret door.  Nightshade busied herself with the lock on a chest in the room.

“There’s an inscription here,” Bloodwolf said.  “Kithren, can you make it out?”

Apteryx responded first, holding his torch toward the inscription.

Those who wander, seek and roam, Find hope does dwell within our home, But first a test is laid to you            Solve it now and venture through.

Evil snares the Found each day Countered with good, to Pelor we pray Match the virtue to the sin            Wisdom is shown – your journey begins.       

“We have our task,” Kithren said.  “We have to match the virtue to the sinful face.”

Spellweaver pointed to one of the faces.  “This looks like a lazy man to me.”

“Wait a moment,” Gearon said.  “I studied some of the writings of Pelor.  They enumerate seven sins.  One of them is sloth, but we need to make sure.  I’m positive there are consequences to a wrong choice.  Does everyone agree that of all the faces, that face would represent sloth?  And what is the corresponding virtue?”

“I say diligence counteracts sloth,” said Widseth.  “Here’s the plaque for Diligence if you’re sure that’s the face for Sloth.”

Spellweaver carefully placed the plaque on the ledge of the pedestal.  Soft white light emanated from the central pillar and rested on the plaque.

“Good choice,” Gearon said.

Apteryx picked up the tile with Humility written on it.  “I’m sure this must be the face for Pride.”

“Wait,” Dougal said.  “I think that might be . . .”

But the warning came too late.  A bolt of energy flew from the ceiling, knocking Apteryx backward into the wall.  He moaned in pain, but as he rose to his feet, his joints stiffened and he took on the appearance of the wall.  He solidified into a stone statue—an edifice of a poor choice.

“I think it might be Greed,” Dougal finished.  “I think this one is Pride over here.”

“Leave Greed and Pride to last.  I’ll find a stone to flesh scroll, but let’s do this one at a time and we need everyone’s opinion and agreement.  This may not be as easy as it appears,” Widseth said.

Gearon led the discussion about each virtue and each face.  The party successfully matched Chastity with Lust, Temperance with Gluttony, Kindness with Wrath, and Patience with Envy.  By that time Widseth had cast the stone to flesh spell and Apteryx rubbed his arms and legs to restore circulation.  Nightshade returned from her task at the chest.  She quickly slipped something shiny into her pocket when Gearon looked at her.

“We’ve only two virtues and faces left,” Gearon said.

“Well, we know the tile for Humility doesn’t go with that face,” Apteryx said.  He pointed to the face that he thought represented Pride. 

“Weaver, hand me the plaque for Charity.”  Dougal put his hand on Apteryx’s shoulder.  “I think we can agree now that this face represents Greed, and the face on the other side is Pride.  I’ll try to counteract Greed with Charity if you want to try Humility again to neutralize Pride.” 

Putting the plaques in place filled the room with light.  Widseth studied the central column.  The magical light revealed a glyph.

“I think I wasted a scroll.  I think the monks designed this room to test applicants not to kill them.  That’s the healing symbol.  I imagine anyone who had been damaged by a poor choice would be healed by touching the column or by bathing in the light of eventual good choices.”

“Let’s go.  The door’s open,” Kithren said.  The party filed out.

Epilogue II

“Look,” I said.  “They’re going into a room just like the last one, but there aren’t any pillars.  It’s some sort of a cage with a key on a pedestal inside the cage.”

Ektdar nodded.  “Remember,” he said. “These are testing rooms the monastery used as a trial to the unworthy who might want to enter. 

The party entered the room.  Sun face discs adorned the walls of the room, but had been fashioned from hammered silver instead of copper.  A door on the opposite wall remained closed, but beside it silvery writing gleamed in the torchlight.  Skeletal remains of a long dead monk rested against one of the walls.

“What’s this?” Nightshade asked.  She reached out to the surface of the cage, but pulled her hand back before touching the metal. 

The “cage” had been constructed of thick metal bars linked in triangles, ultimately forming the shape of a rough circular dome about chest high.  On a small pedestal inside the cage a large golden key rested.

“Don’t touch anything yet.  In the last room we learned not to touch before we investigate,” Bloodwolf said.

Everyone turned and stared at the normally impetuous barbarian.

“Dougal, what have you been teaching him?” Spellweaver asked.  Dougal laughed out loud. 

“He’s been teaching me, and he’s a quick study.”  Dougal smiled at Bloodwolf.  “I think we should follow his advice.  What does it say over there by the door?”

Kithren read the silvery writing on the wall.

To venture forth you must retrieve Through careful acts this golden key Use the tools that you have brought Touch not the bars that I have wrought Nor reach inside to grab your prize Bridge your thoughts and be most wise.

“Check that sack beside the corpse,” Widseth said. “And don’t touch the bars.”  He glanced toward Nightshade, but she had already secreted herself to a far corner, where she knelt beside a chest and used her tools to manipulate the lock.  He smiled.

“I have some rope.”

“And I have twine.”

“Do you think we can shoot an arrow through the bars?” Apteryx asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Grandfather answered.

“Hand me the twine.  I’ll tie it to the end of this arrow and shoot it through the bars across the top of the key,” Apteryx said.

“Don’t hit the key and knock it off the column.  I don’t think we could rig it to get it off the floor without a lot of difficulty, but I can see your plan,” Dougal said.

Apteryx aimed the arrow through the rung of bars just above the key.  The arrow shattered against the opposite wall, but the twine was through the cage without harm.

“Good shot,” Kithren said as she reached to secure the twine, but she accidently touched one of the bars.  An energy charge threw her back against the wall.  She stood up, dazed.  “Be careful.  Don’t touch the bars.”  She took out a potion and drank it.

“Kithren, I’m going to tie the rope to this end of the twine.  Keep it taut and pull it through.  I think the rope will be stronger than the twine, and I don’t want to take a chance of dropping the key.”

Apteryx and Kithren maneuvered the rope until it was directly over the key.

“I think you need a loop in the middle to hook the key,” Spellweaver said.  “I suggest a loop of twine.  It’ll be more flexible.”

“I agree,” Gearon said.  “But hurry.  I think we need to be moving quicker.”

Apteryx pulled the rope back and tied a loop of twine.  When Kithren pulled it back, they situated the loop over the large tines of the key and lowered the rope.  Gently they manipulated the loop until it caught in the teeth of the key.  Slowly they lifted and the key rose from the pedestal.  Apteryx gingerly pulled the rope back until the key broke the plane of the cage through one of the openings. 

“Got it!”  He pulled the key out.

“Nice work,” Bloodwolf said.  “That took a steady hand.”

“This hasn’t been easy, but I’m sure there are some challenges ahead.  Is everyone healed up?” Gearon asked.

“Open the door,” Nightshade said.  She slipped something into a pouch.  Then she melded into the darkness.  Kithren and Bloodwolf trailed after her, followed by Dougal and Gearon.  Spellweaver took a middle position followed by Grandfather and Apteryx.  Both had bows drawn and arrows at the ready.

At the end of the long corridor, Nightshade quickly found a long unused secret door and opened it.  The passage opened into a building, but in the center of the area they could see a pit that crossed the entire room.  A narrow stone bridge in the middle spanned the pit.

“I think we’ve entered the receiving area for Pelor’s Monastery,” Gearon said.

“Why so?” asked Kithren.

“Over there.”  Gearon pointed.  Everyone looked at a beautiful golden emblem of Pelor on the opposite wall on the other side of the pit.  “There is something written there, but I can’t make it out.”

“I can,” Nightshade said.

The party’s attention turned to her.  She was half way across the bridge over the pit. 

“It reads:  Congratulations oh members of the Found.  You have crossed over the Chasm of Fear and proven yourself worthy to enter our monastery.  You have arrived inside the Receiving Hall and a monk will arrive very soon to welcome you.  Please take this time to rest yourself.

Wait a minute.  Someone has scrawled more:

Fools!  I will rest here as I dine upon the brains of our captured slaves!

Something’s not right,” she yelled.

A tall creature stepped from behind a buttress with its hands extended upward.  Tentacles hung from its face.  A violent blast assaulted everyone in the room.  Nightshade staggered to her knees and fell from the bridge into the pit.  Bloodwolf rushed forward with sword drawn, but Kithren fell to the floor.  Gearon slumped to the floor and held his ears.  Dougal quickly readied a sling and cast a bullet toward the creature.  Widseth began to sing, and Apteryx loosed an arrow.  The Weaver began to cast a spell.

The creature moved to the apex of the bridge to engage Bloodwolf before he could cross.  A bolt of energy flew from the creature’s fingers and caught him in the chest, but Bloodwolf pushed forward and landed a blow.  Widseth’s lute hung in midair continuing to play as Widseth loosed an arrow that impacted the creature.  Apteryx fired again but the arrow skittered past and hit the wall.  Spellweaver’s fingers tensed with electrical energy and a bolt staggered the Mind Flayer.

Kithren shook her head and rose to her feet.  Gearon staggered toward her, and they steadied each other.  One of the creature’s tentacles struck Bloodwolf on the face and attached, but the barbarian struck a weak blow with his sword severing the fleshy tentacle before it could burrow into the skin.  A ray of fire pulsed from the creature’s hand and struck Spellweaver, knocking him to the floor.  He moaned in pain.

“Dougal, see to the Weaver.  He may need help,” Widseth shouted, as he loosed another arrow.  Apteryx fired another shot, hitting.  Kithren drew her sword but could not get past Bloodwolf on the bridge to strike a blow.  Gearon threw a thunderstone that exploded with a deafening retort.

The Mind Flayer reeled backward in response but met the blade of a dark shadow that had crawled up the metal rungs on the far side of the pit.  Nightshade’s blade bit deep and severed the creature’s spine at the same time Bloodwolf struck with all his might and cut the creature’s head from its body.  Widseth grabbed his lute and ran forward.  Kithren and Bloodwolf pushed the carcass into the pit.  Gearon and Dougal assisted Spellweaver, and Apteryx scouted the rear of the room, making sure there would be no surprises.

After crossing the bridge, they inspected the living quarters of the Mind Flayer.

“This was no common minion of Iuz,” Gearon said.  “According to these letters, he was one of Iuz’s generals.  His name was Brinenok.”

“Well, he’s worm food now,” Bloodwolf said.  “That tentacle of his is going to leave a nasty scar on my face.”

“Well, your sword left a nasty mark on his neck.  So I guess you’re even,” Kithren said.

Bloodwolf smiled.  “Yeah, I guess we’re even.”

“There’s some treasure here.  Take what you want.  He won’t need it,” Widseth said.  “But hurry.  We need to keep moving.”

“Did you feel that?” Gearon whispered.

“Feel what?” Grandfather asked.

Gearon looked around then inspected the dark corners of the room.

“Something’s watching us, and I don’t think it has anything to do with Iuz.”

“Perhaps there are more ancient powers at work here than we realize.  Let’s go.”

Nightshade looked at one of the Pelor medallions.  It was turned ninety degrees.  She turned it back and a small compartment opened.  She took out something and slipped it under her cloak.  The party exited through the doorway into a ruined courtyard inside the monastery walls.

“Ektdar, what is going on?  There they are again.  I just watched them on that screen fight the Mind Flayer that my grandfather fought,” I said.

“Pay no attention to that other screen.”

“But the Mind Flayer is still alive in that screen.  I mean those guys with daggers and no armor just ganged up and ran at him and rushed him, pushing him into the pit.  Then they ran, except one of them.  They finally got him to run too, but for a while he just kept standing at the top of the iron rung ladder in the pit and tried to stomp on the fingers of the Brinenok as he tried to climb out.  None of them stopped for treasure or anything.”

“They survived, didn’t they?” Ektdar asked.

“Yes, but . . .”

“Well, that’s the measure of what Greyhawk needs.  We need survivors.”

I turned back to watch my grandfather’s group enter the courtyard.  Through open windows in the buildings, I could hear the guttural laughs and celebrating of obnoxious creatures like ogres and orcs, but over it all I could hear the loud snores of something large around the corner.

My grandfather and company slipped silently around the corner of the building and across the courtyard to an open gate.  In a corner of the courtyard a giant wheezed and snored, but pressed for time to get into the chapel, Grandfather’s party ignored him and slipped past the sleeping monster.

Just inside the open gate, they entered a blacksmith shop.  Nearby was a closed garden gate.  At the end of the garden path through an arbor they could see the Chapel of Light.  Nightshade started to open the gate, but noticed a nasty arrow trap.

“I don’t think I can disarm this from here, and if the gate opens, it will surely trigger.  As I see it, there are at least twenty-five to thirty arrows that will be loosed in the arbor there.  There must be another way,” she said.

“There might be a way here, if I read this right,” Dougal said.  “Listen and tell me what you think.”  Dougal picked up a parchment and read.

To Hagroth, Giant Armorsmith,

I hope you find your new abode suitable to your liking and purpose.  It was not easy meeting your payment demands, but to avoid Iuz’s wrath I have done as you asked.  There will soon be plenty of time to enjoy your earned wines and meads, so do not partake in your treasure until after the assault is complete.  Your sleeping bulk is too heavy to move!

I bring grave news regarding the twenty suits of Winged Commander Armor you enchanted.  These suits were used by our troop Commanders during a recent skirmish with some Greyhawk forces.  Their “Fly” enchantment worked well and the Commanders were able to see the battlefield well and they were able to move swiftly.  However, your “Protection from Missiles” enchantments on the suits were not complete as some of the enemy’s hail of arrows was able to penetrate the armor and kill the Commander within.  This is the only suit to have survived the encounter.  My divining magicks tell me that a section of the armor was forgotten during the enchantment process and that it needs a protective Rune Badge fused to it to keep arrows from penetrating its section.  Enclosed is a Rune Badge that you can attach to an area of the armor to shore up the protection in the area you think needs it most. 

-- Slithigarriett the Hale

“I found this at the foot of this suit of armor,” Dougal said.  “Maybe we can use this somehow.”  A full suit of plate mail hung from an armor rack near the forge.

“Ha, so our sleeping giant out there is the blacksmith.  It looks like he partook of his treasure and is sleeping it off.”  Spellweaver said.

“Let’s go kill him,” Bloodwolf and Kithren said in almost the same breath.

“No.  Something keeps prodding me to get into the chapel as soon as we can,” Gearon said.

“Someone can wear the armor, if it’s impervious to arrows, to set off the arrow trap and allow us entrance to the chapel without harm,” Nightshade said.  “Otherwise from what I can tell we will be pincushions.”

“This must be the suit of armor that the letter speaks of,” Kithren said.

“And here’s the rune badge.”  Apteryx pointed to a curious emblem on a barrel near the forge at the foot of the suit of armor.  “I think our blacksmith out there,” he pointed toward the giant, “didn’t know exactly where to put the charm, so he drank some wine to think about it.”

“If this is the armor the letter speaks of, as Kithren says, and I agree with her, then we have to find where the rune should be placed to make it an adequate shield to the arrow trap,” Widseth said.

“There are dents in the armor everywhere,” Kithren noted.  “It must have been pelted by the hail of arrows.  It’s no wonder the others perished.”

“But why did this one survive?” Gearon asked.  “The enchantments protected everywhere except one area according to the letter, but they must not have been very good.  It’s dented everywhere—breastplate, shoulders and arms, abdomen, left leg.  The only place not dented is the right leg.  Evidently it’s the only place the enchantments did protect the suit.  What do you think, Nightshade?”

“What?  Uh . . . I’m searching for a clue,” she said as she knelt beside a small chest on the far side of the forge.

Grandfather smiled.  “I think we are going to have to solve this without Nightshade’s help.  Anyone have any thoughts?  I see it as Gearon has said.”

After a few more suggestions, Dougal spoke, “Maybe we are looking at this from the wrong angle.  This is the only armor out of twenty suits that survived.  Maybe it was just by chance.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Gearon said.

“Maybe it was the only suit that by chance wasn’t hit in the unprotected area.  Maybe all the dents are the protected areas where the armor wasn’t pierced.  Maybe the others suits of armor were pierced in the right leg and that collapsed the magic dweomer and killed the flying commanders.” Dougal replied.

“Back away and I’ll test it,” Apteryx said.  He fitted an arrow, took aim and loosed it.  It bounced harmlessly off the breastplate creating a small dent.  “Now, I’ll try the leg.”  He repeated the process, but this time the arrow cleanly bore though the metal.  It would have buried deeply into the wearer’s leg had someone been wearing the armor.

“I say the unprotected area is the right leg.”

Gearon nodded.  “Good enough for me.  Weaver, place the rune charm here on the leg.”

As soon he fixed the emblem to the leg, the armor shimmered in the light from the forge.

“I’ll wear it and try the arrow trap,” Gearon said.

“No, let me,” Kithren said.  “If I go down you can heal me, but if you go down it’ll be more difficult to heal you.”

Gearon nodded and the party strapped the armor onto Kithren.

“Nightshade, we’re ready to trigger the trap.  We need to be ready to move,” Widseth warned.

 Nightshade stood up and smiled at him.  She slipped something into her pouch and walked over to the locked gate.  She picked the lock and opened it for Kithren to walk forward.  Within the first two steps she had been pelted by at least ten arrows, but they bounced harmlessly off the armor.  Every few steps another barrage of arrows tested the armor, but the protective spells held.  The party followed.  At the end of the arbor they found a chest and helped themselves to the contents that they needed.

“I need my armor back.  This plate may have helped us, but mine fits so much better.  It’s been with me a while and I trust it.”  The party swallowed a few potions and cast a few spells before opening the door to Pelor’s Chapel.

“There the shadow people are again.  They’re not going to the blacksmith shop,” I said.

“Ignore them, or you’ll get confused,” Ektdar said.

“They’re trying to get a key to the gate, but they woke the giant.  He stepped on one of the mugs he’s been using to drink his reward.  He’s upset.  I guess I would be too if someone stuck me with a dagger.”

“Well, I think he could be bribed, but they don’t have anything to bribe him with,” Ektdar said.

“I can’t believe it, they’re going to survive.  They killed him.”

“Ignore them.  They’re not important right now.”

Epilogue III

I sat transfixed as Gearon opened the door into the Chapel of Pelor.  I knew behind those doors lurked the nightmares that would engulf Greyhawk if my grandfather’s party were unsuccessful.

Kithren and Bloodwolf entered the antechamber with swords drawn, followed quickly by Dougal and Gearon.  Nightshade crouched as she entered and disappeared to the left.  Apteryx drew both his long sword and his short sword and moved to the right.  Grandfather and Spellweaver entered last into the antechamber.  Eerie lights flickered from various places revealing evil symbols scrawled on the walls.

“Look, the symbol of Iuz.”  Gearon pointed up to the left.

“And Lolth there to the right,” Dougal said.

Light pulsed and a fire demon appeared at the back of the room.  Hobbling behind her, a monk dressed in the robes of Pelor struggled forward.  The female demon approached displaying a flaming two handed sword.  With living fire for wings, she advanced, her bracers and girdle glowing like metal burnished by fire.

The party took a step back.  She spoke.

"What are you doing here?!?  Our master cannot be disturbed by lowly men...WAIT!  I smell the stench of goodness about you!  You are not in league with my master Iuz!” 

Her evil laugh echoed in the room.

“I will sunder your flesh and bring your still-warm hearts to him -- as an offering of my devotion.”

She looked at the monk.

“Slave!  Make yourself useful!  You may have served Pelor once, but now your mind and soul belong to my charms!"

The demon jumped at the party and swung her fire brand sword, but Kithren and Bloodwolf were ready.  Both countered with blows of their own.  Nightshade angled to get behind the demon for a backstab, but the demon caught her with the sword and knocked her to the floor.  Apteryx moved toward the monk, but Gearon grabbed his arm.

“He’s an innocent.  He’s charmed,” Gearon shouted.

“He’s an enemy,” Apteryx retorted.

“Focus on the demon.  I’ve felt this presence before in the room with the Mind Flayer.  Something’s not right.  We’re being tested.”

A flash of anger crossed Apteryx’s face, but he turned toward the demon and applied his blades.

“Dougal.  Help me,” Spellweaver shouted.  “Hold the monk while I try to force some Dwarven Mead down his throat.  It should release him from the charm.”

Dougal easily subdued the monk and helped Spellweaver pour the Dwarven Mead into his mouth.  The man gagged and struggled, but soon his countenance softened.

“Thank you,” the monk muttered.  He relaxed and slipped into slumber.

Gearon turned from the monk and swung his mace at the demon.  The demon’s fiery sword again connected with Nightshade.  Clearly she could finish Nightshade off with one more blow but she turned on Dougal.  Kithren, Bloodwolf, Widseth, and Apteryx all hit with true strikes, but the demon seemed unaffected. 

“I feel no pain.  Are you going to use your puny weapons?” she taunted.

The demon’s sword wounded Dougal, and he dropped to his knees.

The demon stood immobile and looked directly into Gearon’s eyes.

"I tire of this test.  It is time for this distasteful charade to end.  I have seen the depth of your goodness and I have made my decision.  You have been found by his grace, and no longer will you wander.  Behold the power and glory that is Pelor!" 

As the demon raised her sword high above her head, white light began to strobe until it congealed into a single brilliant beam that illuminated the apparent Celestial and the entire antechamber.  All the evil symbols evaporated in the light.

In an almost musical tone the Celestial spoke.

"I have been watching this monastery for many years since the Monks here were tempted by the agents of Iuz and they then sinned a great sin.  The monastery was defiled and evil has been allowed to flourish here.  So great was the anger of Pelor against the Monks that he forbid any of his servants to aid any who ventured here to restore the monastery.  I have long hoped that some servants of good would be able to enter this most holy chapel of Pelor -- and find a way to restore the blessing of the monastery.  If you find the strength, you must place the Holy Orb of Pelor back into his hands.  In doing so you will immediately banish all the evil outsiders back to their hellish worlds.  Not only will this cleanse the monastery, but it will also save your mortal city of Greyhawk.  For without any leaders, the evil army assembled below will quickly scatter.

'But beware; Iuz himself has taken up residence within the chapel that sits behind that door, so your task is great indeed.  While I am forbidden to directly aid you, I can offer you some important information.  To get into the chapel you must prove your belief and knowledge of Pelor by solving that column puzzle.  Once that is done, you will enter the Alcove of Reflection where you may open a curtain and look upon the Mirror of Faith.  If you are worthy, Pelor will answer your prayer and give you that which you need most.  It is then that you must enter the chapel and find a way to place the Orb within Pelor’s hands.

‘May the light of Pelor illuminate your path and may you bring peace to this once great house of Pelor."

The room fell into darkness.  Slowly torches relit along the walls.  The Celestial and the monk were gone.

“She’s been watching us since we entered the monastery in the room with the Mind Flayer.  I felt something, but I couldn’t make reality fit with what I expected.  I expected evil so I ignored the reality that there was still good here providing some protection.”

“I’m completely unhurt,” Nightshade said.  “I thought she had wounded me to the quick.”

Dougal looked around at everyone from his knees.  “I know the sword entered here,” he exclaimed, pointing to his abdomen, “but I feel nothing now.  There’s no blood.”

“I think you’ll find it was all an illusion,” Widseth said.  “None of what happened was real.”

“Oh, it was real,” Gearon said.  “At least the important part was real.  We passed the test.  Now we need to solve the riddle on the column and enter the Alcove of Reflection where we can look on the Mirror of Faith.  Then, on to Iuz himself.”

‘The column is here,” Spellweaver said.  He pointed to a square column.

Individual tiles with a single letter on each were in holders around the column, and empty holders were below them.  As they were placed, the message read: “THE HOST OF PELOR”

“I think we have to rearrange the letters to fit the holders below.  Under the three letters “THE” we have four holders.  Under “HOST” we have three holders.  Under “OF” we have three holders, and under “PELOR” there are four holders,” Widseth said.

“Using the letters there, I can’t see what we are supposed to change,” Dougal said.

“The phrase must be a clue of some sort,” Apteryx said.  “What have we learned about Pelor and his “host”?”

“What does the host of Pelor do?” Kithren asked.

“Well, if the host of Pelor showed up, it would give Greyhawk some hope against the forces of Iuz,” Bloodwolf said.

“Gearon, what are followers of Pelor called when they keep his statutes?” Widseth asked.

“They call themselves the ‘Found’.   When someone mentions the ‘Found’, anyone with religious training knows they are talking about followers of Pelor.”

“What about the monks in this monastery?” Grandfather asked.

“No, like the Celestial said, they defiled this place.  They were not the ‘Found’ any longer, but the ‘Lost.’”

Nightshade interrupted, “And the only hope for the “lost” is if we place the orb back into Pelor’s hands.”

“Hope for the Lost—that’s it,” Spellweaver said.  It fits.  All the letters from the puzzle fit into that phrase.”

As he placed the last letter in place, beautiful light enveloped the column and a door opened.

“Iuz is ahead.  Prepare yourselves.  Potions, scrolls.  Clear your minds,” Widseth said.  “Adjust your armor and ready your weapons.”

Each member of the party took care to prepare as best he or she could.  Together they entered the Alcove of Reflection.  A curtain hung in front of a large wall.  An ornate frame outlined the curtain.

“The Celestial said if we looked into the Mirror of Faith and were found worthy, we would find the help we need to defeat Iuz.  Shall I draw back the curtain?” Gearon asked.

The party nodded in unison.  A strange sight greeted their eyes when the curtain opened.  Eight people in loin cloths stood staring back at them.  One stood unarmed, and one had a dagger in each hand, but all the others stood holding only daggers.

Spellweaver exhaled with a deep sigh.  “It’s Henwy’s group.  They’re experienced enough, but didn’t we have enough faith?  They have no armor and only daggers for weapons.  I saw no scrolls or potions.  They’ll be slaughtered.”

The curtain closed.

“Calm down Weaver,” Bloodwolf said.  “One of them held up a sign to me.  I couldn’t understand the language.  Can you use one of those comprehend language scrolls and translate it for me.  Here, I’ll write it down.”

Spellweaver read his scroll while Bloodwolf scrawled what he had seen on parchment.  Spellweaver took Bloodwolf’s writing and studied it.

“Are you sure this is all it said?” the Weaver asked.

“That’s it.”

“It’s an ancient tongue, and it has varied meanings, but roughly translated, it says “YOU’RE SCREWED”.

“That’s not good.”

“No, it’s not.”

Nightshade stood looking at the curtain.

“What is it, little one?” Widseth asked.

“I saw myself over there.  What could that mean?”

“I don’t know, but the door is open.  We have to go.  Kithren lead us.”

The party quickly moved into a spacious room.  At another entrance Henwy’s party entered the temple.  A voice boomed through the air of the room, and through an archway Iuz entered.

“Puny mortals!  You dare invade my abode to destroy me?”

Laughter resounded through the room.

“I can see in your minds that you want this Orb of Pelor – and that you hope to banish my generals and me by placing it inside those hands. How very foolish!  Even now my guards approach and in just ten minutes this room will be swarming with every creature of the Abyss that you can imagine.  Your doom comes swiftly.

But come, let me have some fun with you first.  Even though this place will not allow any spells from evil to function, I will still make short and painful work of your fragile mortal bones.”

Iuz held the Orb above his head and disappeared amid flashing lights and raucous noise.

A dark spectral figure arose in front of each party.

“Your two groups must now work together to defeat the Mighty Iuz!  Your group (pointing to Gearon) will attempt to solve that puzzle over there to determine a safe method to place the Orb of Pelor back into the Hands of Pelor.   Your group (pointing to Henwy) must now do battle with Iuz to retrieve the Orb of Pelor from Iuz.  Both of you must be successful to save Greyhawk!  By placing the Orb of Pelor back into the Hands you will banish all the evil creatures within the grounds of this monastery.  This will defeat the forces attacking Greyhawk now.  Good luck!”

Kithren stamped her foot.  “What?  We have marvelous weapons and sturdy armor.  We’re sent to solve a puzzle while some dagger wielding . . .” She watched as dagger wielding maniacs attacked a huge snake that emerged from the wall.  “Heaven help them.”  Kithren charged forward to help, but a force field knocked her backward toward the puzzle. 

As Widseth and Bloodwolf reached the puzzle pedestal, they read a sign on the wall above the illuminated surface.

Most Holy now is where you stand   Brought humbles low before his hands Place now the orb within his hold           And listen well to what you’re told.

All rows and columns must contain      Each letter once to grace attain            Each zone will also give you clue         Each letter sits within there too.

Show thy wisdom and prove thy right       To don his Ring of Lordly Might             The answer waits for you to find         Which Ring your soul you should then bind.

“I’ve done these puzzles before.  We do them all the time at home.  We even have contests,” Bloodwolf said.

Gearon, Dougal, and Spellweaver stood beside Widseth and listened to Bloodwolf.  Apteryx helped Kithren up and supported her over to a table.

Images represented seven different “sky” objects on the table, and a beautiful ring rested at the side of each image—moon, sun, star, cloud, bird, shooting star, and planet (Saturn).

Nightshade repeatedly tried to slide her short sword over to her twin with a dagger, but could find no hole in the invisible barrier between the groups.  Finally she made her way to a chest in the corner and busied herself by picking the lock.

“In that puzzle we have to figure out which image is represented, so we can choose the right ring,” Apteryx said.  “The rings are here.”

“The puzzle works like this,” Bloodwolf explained.  “A word is contained in each area.  See the areas.”  He pointed to the outlines of the areas on the grid.  “It is the same word in each area, but the letters will be in different order every time.  In the lines crossways across the puzzle you can use each letter only once and the same for the up and down columns.  See, there are some letters that are permanently in place so we have a place to start.  Dougal, work with Kithren on the upper right area.  Gearon, you and Apteryx work on the upper left.  Widseth and Spellweaver on the lower left.  Nightshade and I will work the lower right.”  Bloodwolf looked over at Nightshade working on the lock of the chest.  “Never mind, I’ll take the lower right.  Remember, work around the fixed letters.  No duplicates in a row or column.”

After a few minutes each team began to get the idea how the puzzle worked, and it fell into place rather rapidly.  Finally everything seemed to be correct and a faint light cut a diagonal across the face of the puzzle.

“Cumulus, what’s that?” Apteryx asked.

“Types of clouds,” Dougal said.

“It has to be the cloud ring,” Apteryx shouted.

“It makes sense,” Gearon said.  “To place the Orb in his hands over there you have to block Pelor’s light.  Pelor’s light is the light of the sun.  Clouds block sunlight.”

Nightshade stood up from her crouching position near the chest and slipped a trinket into her pocket.  “Did someone mention rings?” she asked.

“Keep her away from the ring table,” Widseth said.  He laughed.

The party looked over toward Henwy’s group to see if they were all dead yet.

If the reader thinks Henwy’s party has failed—turn to page 87.

If the reader thinks Henwy’s party has slain Iuz—turn to page 4.

If the reader thinks the puzzle was rigged turn to page 1040.

If the reader thinks Nightshade should share all the treasure she has gained call the IRS hotline.

If the reader wants to see Gearon’s party fight Iuz, forget it.  This isn’t a choose your own ending book—go write your own.

“They killed Iuz.  How . . . ?” Kithren scratched her head.  “And they have the Orb.”

“And we have the ring,” Apteryx said.

“Henwy.  Good to see you and your crew.  You took the tough way didn’t you?  Just daggers?” Gearon whistle and smiled.  “How did you survive the Drider?  We thought we saw your smudges there,” Gearon said.

“No, we sweat a lot there and stained the floor, but we ran and got away.  Let’s go get this over and restore the Orb.  Whoever has that cloud ring take the Orb and put it in the hands there on that pedestal,” Henwy said.

“Got time for some tales in the tavern after?” Widseth asked.

“Maybe for a little while, but I have to get some sleep. Killer Breakfast comes early tomorrow morning and I have to be ready for that.”

Nightshade stood staring at Raven.

Nightshade pointed at her short sword.  “Nightshade’s short sword—great weapon.”

Raven pointed at her dagger.  “Raven’s dagger—not so bad either.”

“I’ll wager I got more treasure than you,” Nightshade said.

“Bet you didn’t.”

Nightshade reached for her pouch.

Raven held a pouch up.  “Looking for this?”

I thanked Ektdar and left his room.  I headed for the Green Griffin Tavern.  Everyone in Greyhawk was celebrating in the streets, but I wanted to hear the greatest tales of adventure that could ever be told.  They can only be heard in the Green Griffin.  But you probably know that.