1The current P.C.'s of the gamehole members first met in an inn called "The Inn of the One-Eyed Hound" in the city of Sandsdrake. It was an eclectic group who did not immediately get along. One of the main sources of friction was the interaction between Stumpf - a barbarian, and Brynden Stark - a cleric/mage. The reason for this initial friction was that Stumpf, being a good barbarian, distrusted anything arcane in nature. Eventually, as this initial interaction of the party members continued, Stumpf poked Brynden with his index finger and exclaimed, "you don't fight like normal men do you!?!" Brynden responed by instructing the DM that "I part my robes and show him the shaft of my flail." Stumpf was apparently mollified by this gesture and an uneasy alliance was thereafter formed.
Alex 11/14/01
2Well, I, Aias Garron, had quite an encounter last night with one of our party members. Namely, Stumpf. I am not the first in our party to suffer his bullying ways. I triggered a trap in a temple yesterday evening and as a result almost perished. To top it off, that big bloody oaf clocked me one in the chops which brought me closer to my end. Being a Druid yet to blossom to my full potential, I really could do nothing. In the past, I could activate the molecular structure of his armor and roast his ass right out of that tin can, but he now holds an impressive cold sword. So my attack would be useless. I shall remember last nights episode for the future. I wonder how he will like a plague of insects climbing up his ass and into his colon? I think a swarm of nasty little biting things will do that fool rather well. Ah, yes. Revenge is best served with much planning..............
Andy 12/05/01
3Liberating the slave pits of the undercity proved to be a daunting task for our party. The brave paladin Arylian volunteered to take point throughout the sewer level. After falling into and nearly being sucked down the sewer’s main drainage section, he lost his sword while attempting to keep his head above the surface. He inhaled/swallowed some of the fetid muck in the struggle, and soon began feeling a slight discomfort in his bowels. Stumpf opened a chest protected by a glyph of warding that paralyzed him indefinitely. Brynden crystallized a dozen slaves in the main slave chamber with his ’shoot first, ask questions later’ wand of frost. And Arylian lost a level at the hands of an energy-draining wight.
In the final battle against the slave lord and his evil henchmen, Roderick took triple damage due to an invisible backstab, and was finished off after a giant weasel latched on, draining the life out of him. Fanny also dropped after a weasel bit into her leg. And a prone Stumpf could do nothing to ward off a weasel chewing on his side. With the invisible backstabbing slave lord stalking his next victim, the party made a break for the only exit. Aias leading the way up a ladder into the unknown, Brynden (weasel latched onto his leg) carting Roderick’s lifeless body, Arylian carting Stumpf, and the mortally wounded Fanny left behind. The ladder led to the enchanted tree cemetery, where Brynden succumbed to the weasel’s continued attacks and lay unconscious, leaving Aias and Arylian as the only standing adventurers. The party regrouped and Roderick was given a proper burial. After a couple of healing days, they ventured back down to finish off the slave lord, finding a schedule of slaving transactions, and map leading to a secret slaver’s stockade.
Upon the return trip to Sandstrake to collect the 5,000gp reward, Arylian has fallen ill. A severe intestinal parasitic infestation, no doubt picked up while treading sewage, has rendered him totally disabled. The party had to stop every hour along the route to allow him to dash behind a tree with a terrible case of the runs.
Postscript:
The fighter, carrying his slain supposed bride, led the remaining 21 slaves out of the main slave chamber, down the stairs, through a secret door, and into a passage near the sewer’s main drainage section (where Arylian caught his intestinal bug). Upon meeting the last surviving 5 orcs in the undercity, the fighter threw down the female fighter’s body, explained to the orcs what happened, and demanded that the orcs manacle the slaves so he could finish his purchase. In the ensuing melee, all 5 orcs and the fighter were overcome and bludgeoned to death by the rebelling slaves. The slaves escaped out through the temple doors to freedom.
The Rod 12/26/01
4Journal entry of Ionel the Prestidigitator - 7th day of the 23rd year of the 2nd age:
I’ve been thrown together with quite the motley crew during my quest to reach Bone Hill. The five of us met at the Fat and Ugly Tavern. Starting with the most dim-witted, foul, drunken louse of a Dwarf named Grunthor. His beard reeks of ale, urine, and leftovers from yesterday’s dinner. The greedy fool has already gotten himself killed by a poison protected treasure chest. The clerics and I joked that instead of resurrect, they should reincarnate him as a bugbear, at least then he’d be a more highly evolved creature.
Next is the Elf Dino. I met him after he was involved in a scuffle with a couple of men at the tavern. His sleight of hand lifted 5 gold from one of them, but they were none the wiser. As we were talking, he ordered a glass of water to wash his hands, as if he’s consumed with an obsession to keep them clean. Dino looks to be an interesting chap, and I’m sure we’ll get along just fine, so long as he keeps his hands out of my pockets.
I’m not yet sure what to make of Thoran. He dresses in black, and is very handy with a bow, as I found out in our first battle. I believe I’ll keep a wary eye on him.
Finally, that brings me to Luther, the holy man. Seems a very nice, young fellow whose good virtues will certainly lead to his demise. He should be easy to get along with, but if he continues blessing our journey with any more of his sanctimonious nonsense, I’m going to retch.
One early conclusion is that we are a very weak group, and could use another sword. But these are just first impressions, I may be mistaken about them, and we may turn powerful indeed.
The Rod 1/4/01
5I, Larius, under cleric of the Temple of the Big Gamble do put pen to paper at the behest of an unruly dwarf who has come to me seeking to make a "formal `plaint". I do so only because his threats of physical violence seem quite genuine to me. His remonstrations are as follows:
"I not happy. I not happy at all. Why must I be near stinkin' elves? I now travel with two pointy eared devils. By the Silverbeard's toes, why must I fight alongside stinkin' elves?!? My business at Bone Hill is my own. I tell stinkin' elves nothing. And those damned dogs! Why must that black clothed bastard have dogs around! I hate dogs. I hate dogs even more than I hate stinkin' elves. Elves with their fancy ways and always running from battle. Stupid elves! Smiler will drink deep, oh yes he will. By the Silverbeard, stupid stinkin' elves and dogs better stay out of my way! Equal share of the treasure - no! No stinkin' elf will get anything that mine."
That was all that I could comprehend of Grunthor the dwarf's ramblings. He is clearly unbalanced and none too smart. I wish those traveling with this beligerent dwarf the best of luck. So ends the writings of Larius.
Alex 1/4/01
6I was busy picking pockets from a pack of drunken travelers at the Fat and Ugly Tavern when a better opportunity knocked. A pack of would-be adventurers took Monty up on a free ride to the Church of the Big Gamble. Everyone who tagged along put on a dangerous face and kept their personal missions to themselves, but I suspect their fates will all be the same – their money and possessions taken by me, and their lives taken by some sharp-toothed orc in the night.
Describing the group from worst to best smelling merits Grunthor the first spot. This little dwarf’s ugliness is matched only by his stupidity. Unfortunately, after at first looking like he had never held an axe in his life, he made short work of some battle-hardened orcs. I fear that his dim wits will lead to several unnecessary, yet humorous spats within the group. Whatever the case, I don’t mind having a tough little bastard in front to get stuck by arrows, slashed by swords, and pricked with poisoned needles. I’m still working on how to win him over to my side, at least for the time being. I suspect even someone as dull as he is will be able to understand that I am quite an asset to this group – especially if we hope to receive a warm welcome anywhere.
Next comes Luther the cleric. His love for his God has resulted in his foregoing what would otherwise be routine bathing habits. He smells like a Grunthor from Europa, save the urine. I know he’ll be a handy mate on this trip, especially because skeletons don’t have anything worth stealing! I’ll let him deal with them, but like all zealots, his days are numbered too.
Thoran comes next. He keeps to himself and skulks around. He seems to be to be a thief in training who is trying to send a signal that he is formidable, but he is quite obviously still a scared and untrained whelp. Nevertheless, I will be sleeping without an eye open as long as he is in my camp.
Ionel completes the group. He is a fellow elf and a magic-user. I believe we’ll end this journey as allies, assuming he can stay alive that long. His flowing robes may attract the ladies, but they also attract attention. Still, he holds his own, and between the two of us we should be able to wrangle Grunthor into a more obedient state.
As for this adventure, everyone seems very excited about getting to Bone Hill, where we hear the undead reside. I’m more interested in stripping the 300 residents of the Town of Restenford clean of anything worth having. I don’t doubt that those controlling Bone Hill have already taken much of what Restenford has to offer, so if I am to truly profit by this trip, I may need to join these jokers in my party and tackle Bone Hill at some point.
We’ve also taken some advantage of the Clerics at the Church of Big Gamble who were nice enough to point out the location of a thieves’ lair nearby. They flayed us on the price to bring Grunthor back to life after he took a poison needle in the face, but they did not harass us for any of the other treasure we netted in the raid. Perhaps the biggest threat to our happy tenure with the Clerics will be Ionel’s ceaseless diddling of the High Priest’s wife.
Finally, my own dalliances thus far have been profitable. I had 5 gold what I met these sots, and I now have 54 (10 thanks to the numb pocket of Grunthor). In addition, I have netted a pair of gloves of thieving, and a magical longsword, dagger and leather armor. In this short time, I feel that I may benefit from additional training, which the clerics have promised to provide. They are sending us to chase some ghosts now, just like a pack of clerics to chase shadows with no pockets.
Jason 1/4/01
7Bone Hill has been freed of the evil therein. So say the townspeople of Restenford who were living in constant fear of an attack by the undead to their west. Telvar, the evil wizard believed that his army of undead could repel this party, but an upstart young cleric, and a stinky dwarf outmanned him.
In the end, Telvar was alerted to the presence of the party and took refuge in his tower. The group was unable to rouse him, and so killed everything else in sight. This gave him an opportunity for ambush. He threw a fireball, but only downed three of the five before him. Luther the Cleric then held him with a spell, and Grunthor started chopping.
The riff-raff in the castle then dispersed, and the site is now being restored to its former glory by the Baron of Restenford. A small statue has been placed in the courtyard depicting Luther calling upon holy might to smite Telvar. The local children lovingly call Luther the saviour of happy town. Plants and animals again surround the castle, and Luther has been offered a permanent post as advisor to the Baron.
The rest of the party would have been acclaimed as well if they did not so hastily begin to rape and pillage the countryside. Nevertheless, the band of adventurers that retook Bone Hill will enjoy a glowing reputation near Restenford for generations to come.
Jason 3/1/02
8I believe the most tasteless and off color comment in the history of the gamehole was uttered last night in the heat of a gaming session and I am proud to bring it to you here. When re-entering a room in which the party had already been and re-encountering the body of a fallen player character, Brashen, a gamehole member's character, stated to, Dino, one of the other player characters, "Is the body still warm? Maybe you can still get a few pokes in." You are welcome.
Alex 4/2/02
9I was just emailing a guy I bought a DM guide from. The phone rang and I came dangerously close to saying "Good Morning. AD&D DM Guide!" instead of "ADM Alliance Nutrition." Whew. That was close.
Ann Marie 5/1/02
10We are all pretty big nerds. We play D&D, we read books, we know stuff. In fact, most of us take some pride in our nerdiness.
I have shared stories about Jypsie with most of you. That’s the chick that cuts my hair. Well, it was today’s conversation with Jypsie that caused this bulletin. In short, Jypsie showed me today, that we are all pitiful nerd poseurs. We aren’t real nerds. I’ll tell you why.
Jypsie has been living with her boyfriend Jim. Jim is a DJ at Visions, the local strip club. He’s also some motorcycle riding type guy with a Mohawk. He likes D&D. During the course of this several year long relationship, Jypsie starting playing Neverwinter Nights on-line. She would update me at our visits about her character, Raven, and the House Elrond, of which she was a young member. Of Crouse I encouraged Jypsie’s pseudo-D&D inklings.
Recently Jypsie had started corresponding with Elrond. Yeah, the guy Elrond from her computer game. Naturally most of the correspondence was done on-line – like all normal people. Not surprisingly, Elrond saw an opportunity to get in ‘Raven’s’ pants and suggested they meet in person. Did I mention yet that Elrond lives in New Brunswick? That’s in Canada folks.
Naturally Jypsie agreed to meet Elrond. As luck would have it, just as he was driving to Madison, Jypsie moved out of her place with Jim, and took residence at the Knight’s Inn, ‘where comfort rules’ tm. The very day that Elrond rolled into town, he met Jypsie at the Knight’s Inn, and well, they did what all people who met on-line and then hook-up at a medieval themed motel do – fucked holes in the polyester bedspread.
Jyspie then took Dave (Elrond’s ‘real’ name) around town to meet the other Madisonians who play Neverwinter Nights. They were wowed to meet this majestic man in person, and of course impressed that he was nailing Jypsie, the only girl of the group. Dave is looking for work as a mechanic, dodging the feds, and enjoying complimentary continental breakfasts.
Which brings me to my point. What the fuck. We roll dice in a basement and drink beer. Have any of lured an on-line chick to a motel? Have any of us gone to a different country for the prospect of on-line booty? This guy left his wife and kids behind to taste his destiny with Raven. What have you done lately? It’s time for us all to take a real hard look into the Gamehole and find our meaning. Andy, shouldn’t you have some chick flying in from Madagascar by now? Aaron, why haven’t you showed up even once at game night mysteriously covered in blood? Ann Marie, you better have some guy driving in from San Salvador as I type this. C’mon people. Get your asses in gear and quit letting me get shown up by Jypsie. The Gamehole is better than this. Get to it.
Nutson 6/29/04
