This Is What Happens When You Play Pokemon Go in a Bad Part of Town

This morning I am drinking coffee and working on another installment of The Tolling of the Great Black Bell. The issue will come with a wee battle mat upon which terrible things will happen to a poor rat catcher unless the intrepid heroes intervene. Then again, the PCs might sit back and take bets as to who wins. That's an option, too. I just ordered two more of these rat minis on Ebay. Sadly, they are getting harder and more expensive to find.

Iron Rations Part VIII

In the back alleys of a city called Haldane, Devon and his companions searched for a renegade cleric named Gareth. Gareth claimed to be the loyal servant of a forgotten demigod of the crows, a god called M’kai. Gareth preached that the crow god was furious because he had been forsaken by his followers and was committed to reclaiming the skies. Gareth warned that any who failed to worship M’kai would have their eyes torn from their sockets.

     Devon and his friends had been hired by city officials to track Gareth down after attempts to do so by the watch had failed. When they finally encountered Gareth in an abandoned warehouse, he was naked save for a robe of feathers. Filthy and crazed, Gareth began calling to his god for aid as dozens of crows flapped their wings and cawed loudly.

     At the top of his lungs Gareth screeched, “Do you think you can harm me? Fools! I serve M’kai the sky god and he will tear your flesh to ribbons!”

     Abel Artone nervously drew his sword, scarcely able to comprehend the sight before him.

     “Seriously, Devon. This guy is freaking nuts.”

     As he fumbled for an arrow , Devon replied, “I know, Abel. How about we let Aithne take him?”

     “Agreed.” said Abel. “I don’t want to tangle with this guy. Not even a little.”

     With that said, Abel and Devon backed away, dragging the speechless Apris with them. Aithne simply shook her head at her friends’ reaction, then stepped forward to ready a spell.

Gareth, Level 3 Cleric; Alignment: Chaotic; AC: 10; Hit Dice: 2; Hit Points: 12; Attacks: dagger (1d4) Move: 120’;  Languages: Common; Abilities: Str 11, Int 11, Wis 14 (+1 on magic-based saving throws), Dex 13 (+1 to hit with missile weapons, -1 AC bonus, +1 initiative bonus), Con 11, Ch 10;   Spells: Cure Light Wounds, Cause Light Wounds;    Possessions: 10 gp, 20 sp tucked under a pile of crow feathers.

Iron Rations Part VII

To Devon Ashwood, the only thing more fascinating than watching Abel and Apris devour one another’s faces was seeing them argue.

     After hacking through the goblins with ease, Apris was rather upset. The final goblin they faced was a pregnant female. When confronted by the party, she backed into a corner, hissing and brandishing a knife. Abel did not hesitate to kill her. He had sustained a rather nasty wound earlier and was in a foul mood as a result. A quick sword blow to her throat ended it quickly. Apris was shocked.

     “By the gods, Abel! How could you do such a thing!?”
     “Do what?” Abel asked.
     “You killed her when she was pregnant! Why? You should’ve just let her go!”
     “Pregnant? I just thought it was fat. Besides, I didn't even know it was female. How can you tell, anyway?”
     “Fat? Did you say fat?! What, are you going to stab me next?!” (Apris was terribly self-conscious about her weight, something that Aithne loved to bother her about.)

     With that final outburst, Apris stormed away in tears. Devon stepped forward to console his friend.

     “It’s not your fault, Abel. Apris is pretty sensitive and all the violence upsets her. How about we wait until the rain ends, then we’ll leave? Our map says there’s supposed to be a village nearby. We’ll tell the locals that we killed some goblins and maybe they'll buy us a few pints to say thanks. By then, Apris should be feeling better.”

     Abel smiled at the suggestion. “Yeah, Devon, that sounds good. I think the sign we saw on our way here said something about a place called Combe. It sounds nice, real nice.”

Combe
     Grason Combe was a skilled warrior who built a reputation battling the basilisks that once roamed the area. The village, which lays along a busy trade route, was named after him.

     The village’s only inn - The Welcome Rest - is known for its stuffed grouse. A delicious meal and a night’s stay (two guests to a room) can be had for 1 gp. The inn is a great place to learn about road conditions from the merchants who are passing through. It’s also possible to secure work as a caravan guard from these same individuals.

     Amber Combe, a descendent of Grason, lives in the village. She makes a comfortable living collecting rent from the tracts of land she owns. Sadly, the family fortune has dwindled considerably due to mismanagement by several relatives. Always looking for a way to improve her finances, Amber is willing to underwrite any trade venture or expedition that will turn a profit. For example, Amber would like to fund a foray to investigate some ruins, which lay deep within a nearby forest.

     Her ancestor, Grason, never explored them, but he believed that the basilisks gathered all manner of treasure there. He speculated that the woods held some kind of great nest that spawned all the basilisks that terrorized the region. Grason wanted to mount an expedition himself, but he was unable to do so. His retainers were simply too afraid to go. In exchange for a portion of the treasure, Amber would provide gold to hire mercenaries and purchase supplies.

     Visitors to Combe might also stop by Basilisk Ales, a small brewery run by Gimble Burrowell. Gimble, a halfling who exhibits the mirth and charm typical of his race, runs the operation with the help of his two nephews, Jenner and Tanner. Gimble has a rather irregular production schedule, so he often requires transportation services at the last minute. Therefore, he might be willing to hire the party to haul several kegs of ale to nearby towns and villages, provided the party has a wagon of its own and an honest disposition.

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Iron Rations Part VI

Devon was impressed. Abel's fighting ability had improved a great deal since Apris came into his life. Perhaps it was a boost in morale, or simply the fact that Abel was using his shield to block blows instead of his face. Whatever the reason for Abel's newfound prowess, Devon was glad. It was getting terribly sad to see Abel savaged every time he entered battle.

     Apris the Wondrous, the party's newest member, was quite fond of Abel. She tended to his wounds and marveled at his strong muscles. All of this annoyed Aithne to no end. Aithne, a caustic elven woman from Far Isle, found humans to be irritating in the extreme.

     As she once explained to Devon, "Let us remember that we venture among the humans not out of choice, but out of necessity. We must learn their ways, no matter how base, in order to understand them completely. Their numbers increase every day, meaning that their settlements will soon encroach upon our lands. When that happens, there may be war."

     Even though Devon was also an elf, he often had no idea what the hell Aithne was talking about. Devon liked to travel with humans simply because they had a lust for life and a frantic way of living that fascinated him. It was a huge, amazing world and Devon wanted to know all of it. In the meantime, however, he was getting to know goblins.

     Moments ago, threatening rain clouds had finally released their load, dumping buckets of water upon the party. They sought shelter within an inviting cave, and judging by all the arrows flying at them, the cave also seemed inviting to a band of goblins.

     Abel stepped forward to draw attacks, while Devon, Aithne and Apris unleashed spells. Afterward, Devon and Aithne would fire some arrows of their own. Hopefully, Abel could hold out until then. Below is a description of the cave the adventurers wandered into. Feel free to use and/or modify it for your campaign. The goblins’ stats should be pretty easy to translate into almost any rpg system.

The Goblins’ Lair 
     A small band of goblins, who were on the losing side of a power struggle within their former tribe, have taken up residence in these caves. They survive by raiding hen houses and stealing livestock from local farmsteads.

a) Entrance 
     Six filthy humanoids sit around a fire, sharpening their knives and preparing a spit. The humanoids are about 3’ tall and have skin that is a pale, earthy color. Their red, beady eyes reflect the light of the fire. The creatures yammer to one another in their crude language, while passing a jug back and forth. There is a wide exit at the end of this chamber.

     Six goblins eat, rest and pass their time here. When the party enters, they are building a fire and sharpening their knives so that they can butcher the sheep from area c. if melee erupts, two goblins will fall back to fire arrows, while the other four engage in hand to hand combat. The goblins do not have a sentry so they may be surprised.

     If the invading party appears to be either more numerous and/or powerful looking, the goblins may be inclined to parlay. They will gesture that they do not wish to fight if the intruders simply leave.

Goblins (6): AC 6, Hit Dice 1-1, Hit Points 3, Move 20’, Attacks 1, Damage 1-6 short bow or 1-6 short sword, Morale 7.

b) Leader’s Mate 
     A goblin female, heavy with child, cowers in a corner. Near her is a filthy pile of rags she uses for a bed. Next to the rags, a large rat roasts on the coals within a brazier. There are two exits from this room, both of which appear to be narrow, natural staircases that descend deeper into the earth.

     The goblin isn’t much of a threat and will not enter battle, being more inclined to cower in a corner and hiss at the party. She will, however, scream an alarm to her mate in room d after the party enters the caves. If attacked, she will use a dagger hidden behind her back.

Goblin Female: AC 6, Hit Dice 1-1, Hit Points 3, Move 20’, Attacks 1, Damage 1-4 dagger, Morale 7.

c) Dinner 
     The bones of a large animal litter the floor. Its massive skull now serves as an anchor for a sheep that is tied to it. The sheep bleats in misery as it drags the skull around the room. The skeletal remains are those of a cave bear that succumbed to disease years ago. The sheep was stolen recently by the goblins during one of their raids. 

     There is nothing else of value in this room.

d) Leader’s Chamber 
     There’s little to be seen in this chamber besides a cot, some earthenware jugs and a brazier. A recessed space to the right of the entrance holds a crude shrine to some wicked goblin deity. The jugs are filled with wine stolen by the goblins on yet another one of their forays. A few are empty and in one of those will be found 20 sp and 90 cp. The altar consists of a roughly carved idol and some offerings, including a jug of wine, 1 gold coin and the severed head of what appears to be a young human male. 

     When not leading the other goblins on a raid, the leader will be found here. He passes the time drinking, sleeping or trying to coax his mate into coupling with him. She has been resistant to his advances of late, hence her sleeping in a separate room. Due to his 20’ move rate, it will take the goblin 3 rounds to reach area 1 if a fight erupts.

Goblin Leader: AC 6, Hit Dice 1-1, Hit Points 5, Move 20’, Attacks 1, Damage 1-6 short bow or 1-6 short sword, Morale 7.

Iron Rations Part V

 

Love found Abel Artone at the abandoned watchtower. The timing couldn’t have been better, given the abuse the human had endured at the hands of an ogre, and later, a surly dwarf. The young man was due for a change in his luck and it came in the form of a short, plump Magic User named Apris the Wondrous.

     Never an attentive student, Apris had been expelled from her master’s tower before completing her studies. Alone and with few prospects, Apris traveled to the Borderlands in the hope of finding employment. (Without a recommendation from her master, Apris would have a hard time finding work with established trade houses, or with a noble family.)

     En route, Apris became lost after wandering off the road during a heavy fog. After hours of stumbling about in the dark, she eventually arrived at a crumbling tower. Finding it empty, save for some moldering furniture on the second floor, Apris fell into a deep sleep. Early the next morning, Apris awoke to quite a clamor. From what she could tell, something was trying to make its way up the narrow, wooden stairs from the first floor.

     Terrified, Apris peered around the corner to find not one, but two, ravenous ogres trying to navigate the rickety flight of stairs. Fortunately, the decayed wood and narrow confines of the stairwell prevented the ogres from ascending. Nevertheless, Apris was scared out of her wits. She let fly with a Magic Missile, then promptly hid under the bed, quivering with fear.

     The two ogres, Willum and Bert, were intent upon devouring the young human. Apris’ scent was intoxicating and they just knew that her sizzling fat would taste delicious with fresh-baked biscuits. Unable to scale the stairs, the ogres simply decided to wait her out. Eventually the human would get hungry and would have to make an escape attempt. When that happened, the ogres would smash her skull and put her on a spit. Until then, the brothers took turns at guard duty. One would scout the nearby road, hoping to waylay a lone traveler, while the other watched the stairs.

     For her part, Apris waited until nightfall then tried to signal anyone within sight of the tower. She achieved this by casting Light upon a stone, holding it out the window of the tower, then opening and closing her hand to create a flashing beacon.

     After a few days of this, Abel, Devon and Aithne saw the signal and approached the tower to investigate. Within, the trio met and defeated the remaining ogre brother. (The party had slain the other prior to encountering Balnor the dwarf.) Liberated, Apris took an immediate liking to the brooding human. She saw limitless potential within Abel, although she cared little for the sneering Aithne and the scrawny Devon. As Apris and Abel fell deeply in lust, Devon could only look on in fascination and Aithne in disgust.

     “Uh, Aithne, why do Abel and Apris keep making that awful slurping sound?”

     “Because, Devon, they are humans and as everyone knows, a human can barely contain its urge to disrobe and rut in the middle of the road. Best look away before you have nightmares.”

     The accompanying tower map might prove useful in your own campaign. Below is Apris’ stat block. Perhaps we’ll see more of the trio (now a quartet) in future installments.

Apris the Wondrous, Level 2 Magic User; Alignment: Neutral, AC 10 (robes); Hit Dice 2 (d4); Hit Points 6; Attacks: dagger (1d4); Move: 120’;  Languages: Common, Elvish;  Abilities: Str 8 (-1 to hit and damage), Int 13 (1 additional language), Wis 9, Dex 10, Con 9, Ch 13 (+1 bonus to reactions); Spells: Light, Magic Missile; Special Abilities: Magic User spells; Possessions: Spellbook, 6 gp.

Iron Rations Part IV

After allowing poor Abel to recover from his fractured collar bone and bruised ribs, the trio set out to explore the abandoned tower. The dwarf prospector had spoken of strange, dancing lights that appeared around the ancient edifice after nightfall. Aithne was intrigued by the tale and hoped the dwarf’s words were true. Devon and Abel were skeptical, however.

     “You’d think that a creature so full of crap would be taller.”

     “I agree, Abel. Perhaps his being full of crap was the reason for his bad mood. That couldn’t be comfortable.”

     Aithne rolled her eyes. “You’re both idiots.”

     Walking quickly ahead, she exclaimed, “Look, we’ve arrived!”

     Pointing to the east, the decaying, squat watchtower could be seen.

     Abel scowled. “We’re supposed to go inside that dump? It’s barely standing!”

     Aithne addressed Abel in her usual, condescending tone. “No, dear Abel, we merely have to watch and see what happens after nightfall.”

     The trio sat down on the grass, wondering what sunset would bring.

Iron Rations Part III

Even though Devon Ashwood had studied the dwarven language, he’d never actually seen a dwarf until today. And judging by what he saw, he hoped to never see another.

     The squat demi-human had emerged from behind a boulder as Devon was binding Abel’s wounds and while Aithne searched the dead ogre. The dwarf immediately started screaming something about trespassers and claim jumpers. This angered Abel, who was always looking for a fight, no matter what condition he was in.

     The human fighter slowly got to his feet, then stepped forward, hand on the pommel of his sword.

     “Listen, runt, I don’t know what your damn problem is, but you need to shut the —.”

     A crushing blow from the dwarf’s hammer to Abel’s sternum ended the conversation rather abruptly. Abel dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, leaving Devon to wonder why all their fights began with the human incapacitated.

---

     Balnor of Forge Coinhammer has very little time, nor patience, for anything but gold. He views everyone as a threat to his prosperity and will meet any perceived slight with aggression. Currently, he is prospecting in a rocky area that features thick veins of quartz, which might also contain gold.

     He’s already had to contend with an errant ogre stomping about, so the last thing he needs are elves and a big-mouthed human. After his temper dies down, he will explain to the trio that they are trespassing and had best move along. He suggests that if they really want to see something interesting, they should explore the ruined tower to the northeast. At night, strange, colorful lights dance around the stones. Balnor would investigate the phenomenon for himself, but so far the lights haven’t interfered with his work.

Balnor, Level 3 Dwarf; Alignment: Neutral; AC: 7 (leather armor); Hit Dice: 3; Hit Points: 19; Attacks: war hammer (1d6+2); Move: 90’; Languages: Common, Dwarvish, Gnomish, Kobold, Goblin;  Abilities: Str 16 (+2 to hit and damage), Int 11, Wis 14 (+1 on magic-based saving throws), Dex 11, Con 15 (+1 hit points per die), Ch 8 (-1 adjustments to reactions); Special Abilities: Dwarf abilities;  Possessions: leather armor, war hammer, 10 gp, 20 sp.

Iron Rations Part II

Devon Ashwood stood motionless.

     Terrified.

     They had been tracking the ogre for two days and finally located him in some rocky hills. The creature had been waylaying travelers and a modest bounty had been posted. The coin was not as important as the thrill of the hunt, but now that the quarry was at hand, Devon was having second thoughts.

     The ogre towered above him, saliva dripping from a mouth full of rotten teeth. The filthy rags covering its body emanated a revolting stench that caused Devon’s eyes to water. Nearby, Abel lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious after sustaining a savage blow from the ogre’s club. Devon wondered if the human was dead. He certainly looked that way.

     “Aithne, help me! I can’t do this!”

     Aithne, looking rather amused at Devon’s plight, coached, “Do your best, young warrior. This is the type of danger and excitement you were looking for, correct?”

     “No!” screamed Devon. “HELP ME!”

     Aithne let out a deep sigh. “Very well. I will aid you, but you are in my debt.”

     Aithne stepped forward, a look of determination in her eyes, magical energy electrifying the air around her…

Iron Rations Part I

Devon Ashwood, Aithne of Far Isle and Abel Artone

During the summer of 1986 my friend Todd and I played a fair amount of Basic D&D, Tom Moldvay edition. I don't remember very many details from our sessions. I know that I played an elf, but his name eludes me. My DM used a wonderful supplement called "The Shady Dragon Inn" and from that product came my two adventuring companions.

     Aithne of Far Isle was an older, more competent elf. She was emotionally distant and held my brash character in contempt. Abel Artone was a surly, often brooding, warrior. What he lacked in martial ability, he made up in determination.

     I recall only vague memories from our solo campaign. This series, which I call "Iron Rations", is an attempt to construct a Basic D&D campaign using miniatures, fiction and maps. It is not a true account of my old adventures, but it could have been.

     Below are stat blocks for the three heroes.

Devon Ashwood, Level 1 Elf; Alignment: Lawful; AC: 5 (leather armor, -2 dex); Hit Dice: 1; Hit Points: 6; Attacks: short sword (1d6), short bow (+2 to hit, 1d6 damage); Move: 90’; Languages: Common, Elvish, Orcish, Hobgoblin, Gnoll, Gnomish; Abilities: Str 9, Int 14, Wis 12, Dex 16, Con 9, Ch 15; Spells: Charm Person; Special Abilities: +1 on initiative, +1 adjustment to reactions, elf abilities.

Aithne of Far Isle, Level 3 Elf; Alignment: Neutral;  AC 5 (leather armor, -2 dex); Hit Dice 3; Hit Points 12; Attacks: dagger (d4) short bow (+2 to hit, 1d6 damage); Move: 90’; Languages: Common, Elvish, Orcish, Hobgoblin, Gnoll, Gnomish, Dwarven; Abilities: Str 9, Int 16, Wis 15, Dex 16, Con 9, Ch 12, Spells: Sleep, Charm Person, Web; Special Abilities: +1 on initiative, +1 vs. magic-based saving throws, elf abilities.

Abel Artone, Fighter 1; Alignment: Neutral; AC: 4 (chain mail, shield); Hit Dice: 1; Hit Points: 10 (+2 from con); Attacks: long sword (+1 to hit, damage, 1d8+1); Move: 60’; Languages: Common; Abilities: Str 15, Int 9, Wis 9, Dex 10, Con 16, Cha 8; Special Abilities: +1 opening doors, -1 adjustment to reactions.

Stirge

Stirge, Uncommon, no. 56, War of the Dragon Queen

“Aieee! Get it off me! Get it off me!” 
     -Unfortunate victim of a stirge attack

Stirges are bat-like creatures that feed on the blood of living beings. While just one poses little danger to most adventurers, multiple stirges can be a formidable threat. In combat, a stirge attacks by landing on a victim, then plunging its proboscis into the flesh.

     A stirge’s coloration ranges from rust-red to reddish-brown, with a dirty yellow underside. The 10” long proboscis is pink at the tip, fading to gray at its base. A stirge’s body is about 18” long and has a wingspan of about 3 feet.

Stirge (-3 points) SM -2 (3’ wide, 18 lbs.); ST 5 [-50], DX 15 [100], IQ 4 [-120], HT 11 [10]; HP 5, Will 10 [30], Per 10 [30], FP 12 [3]; Basic Speed 6.5, Basic Move 2 (ground), 12 (air); Dodge 9 (in flight), Parry -, Block -; DR 0. Advantages and Perks  Flight (winged -25%; air move 12) [30], Night Vision 5 [5], Striker (cannot parry, -40%) [3], Vampiric Bite [30]. Disadvantages and Quirks  Bloodlust (6) [-20], No Fine Manipulators [-30], Wild Animal [-30]. Skills  Brawling-17 [4], Stealth-15 [2]. Attacks  Proboscis-17: 1d-3 pi, Reach C, Parry-n/a.      Upon a successful grappling attack (using the brawling skill), the stirge is able to land on the victim and grabs hold with its claws. (The victim is at -4 DX after being successfully grappled.)      The following turn, if it is still attached, it plunges its proboscis into the flesh using an All Out Attack. If the attack is successful and penetrates the victim's DR, the stirge drains 1 HP per second until dislodged. For every 3 HP stolen, the stirge heals either 1 HP or 1 FP. The stirge cannot raise HP or FP above normal this way.      A stirge is vulnerable when feeding in this manner and will be unable to dodge any attack directed at it. However, a missed attack or excess damage may wound the stirge’s victim!

Giant Rat

Dire Rat, Common, no. 30 of 72, Giants of Legend

“Why should I be afraid of the sewers? There’s nothing down there but rats.” 
     Ernst Mayr, deceased

A giant rat is substantially larger than its other rodent. Aggressive and cunning, giant rats have been known to hunt in packs of 5-10 (1d6+4) to overcome much larger foes. Giant rats grow to three feet in length (six feet if the tail is measured) and spread a disease called “Filth Fever” through their bite.

Giant Rat (-46 points) SM -2 (3’ long, 50 lbs.); ST 7 [-30], DX 11 [20], IQ 4 [-120], HT 12 [20]; HP 7, Will 10 [30], Per 12 [40], FP 12; Basic Speed 5.75, Basic Move 5; Dodge 8, Parry -, Block -; DR 0 Advantages and Perks Discriminating Smell [15], Flexibility [5], Night Vision 5 [5], Poison Bite: Sharp Teeth [1], Toxic Attack 1d (Onset, 1 hour, -20%; Cyclic, 1 day, 2 cycles, +20%; Follow-up, Sharp Teeth, +0%; Resistible, HT-3, -15%) [5], Reduced Consumption 3 (Cast Iron Stomach, -30%) [4], Resistant to disease (+8 to resist) [5]. Disadvantages and Quirks Quadruped [-35], Wild Animal [-30]. Skills Brawling-12 [2], Climbing-14 [2], Stealth-13 [8], Survival (urban)-13 [4]. Attacks Poison Bite-12, 1d-4 cut, Reach C.

He Rides with Speed and Purpose

Human Outrider, Uncommon, no. 22 of 44, Savage Encounters

Together, Henrik and his horse, Cobble, ride the stretch of road between Candlekeep and the village of Shipstern's Bluff. The residents of both settlements pool their resources to pay Henrik's 10 gp per month salary. Cobble is well compensated, too. His stabling and grooming are free and the children of both Candlekeep and Shipstern's Bluff ply him with all the carrots and apples he can eat.

     Henrik used to be an adventurer, which is a polite way of saying "sell-sword" and "tomb robber." Eventually, Henrik got tired of an itinerant lifestyle and became a road warden. By doing so, he is still able to have a bit of excitement and danger in his life, but he also enjoys a warm, clean place to sleep each night. Henrik has also been able to marry. His bride is a short, curvy woman named Adelle. Henrik really doesn't need the 10 gp salary as he has saved a modest fortune from his adventuring days, but his former career taught him that only a fool turns his back on easy coin. 

     Henrik's job as road warden is help lost travelers find their way, escort wagons and to run off the occasional bandits. Word of Henrik's ability to handle himself in a fight means that he rarely has to fight. Usually, his biggest problems come in the form of wandering monsters who haven't heard that to draw steel on Warden Henrik is to invite death. 

     Provided one is law-abiding and reasonable, they will find Henrik to be friendly and willing to share stories of his former career. He loves to hear other's stories and will spend hours - much to Adelle's chagrin - swapping lies. To those who are up to no good, Henrik is quick to anger and draws steel rather than listen to excuses. He rarely leaves wounded highwaymen alive, but does his best to conceal the bodies as such ugly business might upset the common folk. 

Henrik Hale, Male Human, Fighter 5; Armor Class: 6 (+1 ring mail, Dex bonus), Hit Dice: 5d10+10, Hit Points: 40, THAC0: 16 (14 with long sword), No. of Attacks: 3/2 (long sword),  Damage: 1d8+4 (long sword), Alignment: Chaotic Good, Move: 12 Strength: 16, Dexterity: 15, Constitution: 16, Intelligence: 10, Wisdom: 10, Charisma: 13 Saving Throws: Parlayzation, Poison, Death Magic: 11, Rod, Staff, Wand: 13, Petrification or Polymorph: 12, Breath Weapons: 13, Spell 14 Nonweapon Proficiencies: Landd-based riding, Hunting, Navigation, Survival Equipment: +1 ring mail, +1 long sword, Potion of healing, signal horn, rations for 1 day, wineskin, 10 gp

Henrik and Cobble charge into battle