"Armed and Dangerous" (Standalone Session)

Bargrimm, Kameena and Nicodemus knew when they weren't wanted. Under pressure from Herr Liebniz to leave Hermsdorf, they opted to re-supply at the town of Liebstedt, a slightly larger town only a day's journey north. Along the road, Nicodemus' knack for sensing danger led him to notice a horned Beastman pacing the party from the Great Woods that cuts a swath through the entire southern end of Talabecland. The party stuck close to the Kithband of elves traveling alongside them, and indeed, the elves drove off the Beastmen with a volley of arrows launched into the forest.

Shortly after dark, the trio had reached Liebstedt, a town of several hundred woodsmen, farmers and herdsmen. Here, the most cherished gods were Taal and Rhya, the Lord of Nature and the Mother of Earth. The first stop was The Troll's Arm Inn, aptly named, for a real (though stuffed) troll arm hung over the bar. The innkeeper, Lucius Schrieber, was only too happy to relate how, in years past, his father had lopped the arm off a troll that had terrorized the outskirts of Liebstedt. It was said that the troll, dubbed "Old Hob" by the locals, had burned to death; his arm was all that remained.

While Bargrimm and Nicodemus relaxed with a few drinks (oddly watered down), Kameena broke off to spend some time with a large group of Halflings partying the night away. Liebstedt, it seemed, was how to a sizeable Halfling community, and saw a surprising array of nationalities passing through (not too surprising - Talabecland touches more Provinces than any other, making it a key area for trade in the Empire). Another unusual customer was Fimgon, a surprisingly tall dwarf dressed in the furs of Kislev and walking with a pronounced limp. A down-on-his-luck smuggler, Fimgon was all too happy to recognize an old acquaintance in Nicodemus. In years past, Nicodemus had strayed a bit from the law by helping Fimgon sneak goods across the River Stir to avoid the taxmen, and now fate had revived the short-lived partnership. It was especially time, as Fimgon would soon be giving up the only three Gold Crowns he owned to a group of Tilean merchants in a card game. They also walked away with money from Nicodemus and the nearly drunk Bargrimm, but the experience seemed to endear Fimgon to the party and he asked to travel with them to the north.

As the night drew to a close, Bargrimm finally pushed himself into a drunken stupor with a drink poured from the Troll's Arm itself (a local custom). He vomited, passed out, and slept through to the morning. Kameena excused herself to spend a day or two with the Halflings, promising to make some inquiries in town to see if any of Bargrimm's relatives might turn up. Fimgon and Nicodemus dragged Bargrimm to the common room and the turned in for the night. Only Nicodemus had difficulty that night, as a horrible nightmare plagued his mind and left him pale and screaming upon awakening. He kept the vision he saw to himself, though, stoic as ever. Bargrimm, meanwhile, threw up what remained of the previous night's dinner on the barroom floor, nearly getting thrown out but for a few silver shillings tossed the innkeeper's way.

Most of that day was spent resupplying. Nicodemus brought arrows for his short bow and had his Estalian dagger appraised at the local blacksmith. The blacksmith, an Estalian enthusiast, seemed keenly interested in buying the dagger, but the canny Fimgon warned Nicodemus that the price he was offering was far below the blade's value. A violent incident was narrowly avoided. The pair also stopped at the local town crier, whose news included the pending arrival of a large contingent of Roadwardens (bad news for fugitives) and the sickness of a prominent local Halfling. The pair also joined Bargrimm at the local furrier, a cheerful Bretonnian named Merovich Lélevé who was willing to make a fur cloak out of the wolf skins Bargrimm had acquired in week's past. Fimgon talked Merovich's price down and the Bretonnian promised the cloak by the following day. Lastly, Bargrimm took it upon himself to take in a stray dog, lured by food and Bargrimm's natural abilities to handle animals. He named the fiesty girl Greta, and she was soon following him around happily.

The only task that went unchecked during the day was Nicodemus' planned letter to his mentor, Captain Lutzen, back in Stirland. Perhaps it slipped his mind when a pipe-smoking man approached Bargrimm and called him by his given name, Albert Riemund. The man, who called himself Heinz, claimed to have spoken with Kameena (still off with the Halflings) about Bargrimm's search. He told Bargrimm that there was a Riemund who ran a small mining operation in the hills to the west. Intrigued, Bargrimm bought the man a beer and pushed for the group to make for the mining camp before dark. As they were leaving, Fimgon paid a smelly beggar to go and hassle the foul-tempered blacksmith, and though the man could barely stand, he promised to do his best.

The trio reached the camp just as the sun was setting, only to find it deserted and long overgrown. The nearby house was deserted too, and after Fimgon triggered a small rockslide trying to sneak up on it, the group simply decided to walk boldly in. A strange smell greet them, as of a dead animal, and indeed, when Bargrimm crept down into the decrepit house's storage basement, he found a butchered deer covered in flies. Just then, Fimgon's sharp ears picked up what sounded for all the world like a huge animal sniffing around outside the house. The wood of the landing creaked under its weight, and the trio holed up in the supply room above the cellar. It was Bargrimm who spotted a huge shape passing in front of a window and guessed that it might just be a certain one-armed troll. He would shortly be proven right.

Fimgon sprang up the stairs for maneuvering room and was the first to see the beast. It was Old Hob alright, hideously burned, short a right arm and half his left leg, and nearly blind. Bargrimm tried to follow him up, but pushing past Fimgon, his foot went right through a rotting stair step. The commotion sent Fimgon tumbling over the side as Hob rolled and crawled with surprising speed to the base of the stairs. Meanwhile, Nicodemus vaulted over the hole in the floor of a nearby bedroom to pick at the beast with his shortbow. The first strike against Hob came from Bargrimm's fiesty mutt, Greta, who had followed her new master up the steps. She narrowly avoided a spew of acidic vomit from the troll as Bargrimm pulled his legs loose from the stairs.

Fimgon moved to the bedroom with a torch lit from Bargrimm's lantern. Nicodemus was having difficulty hitting the troll in the chaos of the battle, but followed through with Fimgon's plans to light the arrows in hopes of setting the troll on fire. Bargrimm, meanwhile, hopped down from the stairs and circled behind Hob, incurring a nasty bite from the troll in the process. Nicodemus' flaming arrows still missed their target, but set the wall next to Hob on fire. Fimgon moved to join the melee, Kislevian axe in hand, and took a violent gash from the troll for his troubles. Bargrimm scored a nasty hit to the beast's torso, though, spilling organs onto the floor, and Greta mangled its one remained arm. The adventurers could see that Hob was healing from the injuries, but not fast enough to deal with the abuse they were dishing out.

The tide of the battle finally turned when swing's from Bargrimm's axe forced Hob’s against the burning wall where his already injured arm was scalded and caught fire. Hob began lashing out in a frenzy as Nicodemus drew his mace and moved in to go toe-to-toe with the beast. Hob's one good arm was torn off by Greta even as Nicodemus severed its one good leg with a crushing blow from his mace. Spastic but still alive, Hob’s end came courtesy of Fimgon’s axe, which caught in the torso wound Bargrimm had started and split the horrible thing open like a broken egg.

As the house burned, the adventurers fled with its arm as a trophy, burning the stump to insure it would never grow again. They took refuge for the night in the nearby mine, Fimgon’s dwarven instincts assuring the party the place was untrafficked and would be safe for the night. And so it was.

The following morning, vengeance and conspiracy theories roiling in their minds, the group returned to Liebstedt. They first made their way to the Halfling quarter of the town, half-expecting to find Kameena dead. Instead, the lovestruck Halfling Kameena had danced with two nights prior directed them to her current residence: the home of a Halfling woman of important social standing, currently very ill and being cared for by Kameena. Kameena dressed her friends' wounds and explained to them that she was likely to remain in Liebstedt for a time. She had work and a community that would hide her from the trumped up charges stretching back to Krugenheim. She asked, though, that Bargrimm send her a letter on reaching Untergard to let her know how things turned out.

After that, the trio returned to the bar for a word with Lucius the innkeeper, who'd happily given them directions to the mine the previous day. Turns out, Lucius thought he was just sending some unruly patrons on a wild goose chase, having no knowledge Hob had still survived. That didn't do much to mend fences, though, and with Nicodemus hinting at pending violence, Lucius reluctantly gave the party 20 Gold Crowns - a partial cut of the reward Lucius' father had earned years ago for cutting off Hob's arm. The party also tried to gain an audience with the mayor of Liebstedt for the rest of the reward, but didn't even make it past the surly guards in the courtyard.

But what of Heinz, who’d directed the party to the mines with promises of Bargrimm’s long-lost kinsmen? Fortune finally shined on the adventurers when they found him taking in a drink back at the Troll’s Arm Inn. They hauled the terrified man into the alley outside and after a few minutes of blubbering excuses, he finally gave up his employer: Lars, the bounty hunter whose false claims had been exposed several weeks ago by Kameena, Nicodemus and Bargrimm. He'd shadowed the trio, learned of Bargrimm's search for kin, and used Heinz to bait a trap for them with a troll he knew still stalked the hills of Talabecland.

The group strong-armed Heinz into taking them to Lars' flat in a rough section of Liebstedt. Heinz knew where Lars was staying, as he was to pick up the second half of his payment upon confirmation that his enemies were dead. Heinz knocked on the door, Bargrimm opened it, and there was Lars, ready with his crossbow pointed at the doorway.

"That wasn't the right knock," Lars growled, but his bravado was cut short when Bargrimm pushed Heinz at him and used him as a human shield. Lars edged toward the window, but was cut off by Fimgon as Nicodemus plunked off an arrow that just missed Lars. Lars managed to get glancing shot off at Bargrimm, who'd now pitched the cowering Heinz to the ground, but shortly found himself surrounded by all three adventurers. Both Fimgon and Bargrimm chipped through Heinz's defensive swordsmanship to cause light wounds, but it was when Lars attempted to flee the room that he made his fatal mistake. Nicodemus cracked his mace down perfectly on Lars' shoulder, popping the arm out of its socket and severing an artery in the process. Lars had just enough time to stare at Nicodemus in astonishment before dropping dead to the floor in a pool of spreading blood.

Bargrimm caught a lucky break by feigning loud snores when the surly, dimwitted landlord came knocking at the door about the noise. The trio then ransacked the room, nabbing Lars' chainmail armor, his crossbow, 13 Gold Crowns, and the contents of his chest: a somewhat fancy snuffbox, three unmarked vials of liquid, a number of bounty posters, and a supply of clothes Lars must have used to infiltrate various strata of society. The terrified Heinz was stripped off belongings, scared straight with threats, and left to contemplate his future.

Afterwards, it was time to put Liebstedt behind before news of the mines' burning and the murder of a man became public knowledge. While Fimgon procured his horse and cart, Bargrimm picked up his new fur cloak, and before the sun had set in Liebstedt, the group was gone.

Bargrimm's cloak, when he had time to inspect it, proved to be somewhat comically short.