Chapter 3 / Episode 71 - The Temple of Highport

Chapter 3 / Episode 71 – The Temple of Highport

Date: Planting 4, 576 CY
Weather: Steady winds from the west; salt spray on the air. Night falls clear beneath a full, watchful moon.

Players

• Dog, Ranger of the Gnarley Forest

• Irving, the Reluctant, Paladin of St. Cuthbert

• Slash the Bard

• Oleg, Half-Elven Cleric/Magic-User/Thief of St. Cuthbert

• Tiger Wong, Monk of the Eastern Lands

• TerryOr, Cleric of St. Cuthbert

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Recap

The sea lay restless beneath the moonlight as the companions descended from the cliffside, cloaks drawn tight against the wind. Below, the ruins of the Temple of Highport crouched like a carcass picked clean, its shattered walls lit with the guttering glow of orcish torches. Patrols moved with cruel regularity, their snarls drifting faintly upward. The adventurers had studied their rhythm well—forty-five minutes of vigilance, then twenty minutes of neglect.

Dog’s voice was a low growl. “We move when their eyes turn elsewhere. No second chances.” Slash smirked, tugging at his slave-trader’s disguise. “And here I thought I was done with performing. Turns out I just needed a bigger stage.” The plan was laid bare: Dog and Slash would pass the front gates as false slavers, while the others—bound in false manacles and sacks—would slip free once inside.

The gatehouse loomed, its guards demanding tribute with guttural jeers. When challenged, Dog spat the orcish phrase whispered to them in town: “Slimy humans.” The guards roared with laughter and waved them through, dragging the “captives” deeper into the courtyard. Rank weeds clawed at the bare earth, and a half-orc official barked orders, pointing them toward a processing hall.

But before the charade could hold, fate struck. Chains shattered, TerryOr’s mace was in hand, and the courtyard erupted into violence. Lightning bolts arced from Slash’s lute-born chant, searing through the night. Oleg’s voice carried over the din, his spell casting half the orcish throng into sudden slumber. Irving, even bound, swung a crude weapon with holy fury, while Tiger Wong’s manacled fists struck with the force of iron.

The clash was brutal, desperate, and swift. Blood darkened the dirt. When silence returned, the companions stood amid the bodies of their foes, breathing hard, the rescued slaves clinging to them with wide eyes. The Rod’s whisper pulsed faintly in Dog's satchel, as if urging him deeper into shadow.

TerryOr’s eyes met the others as he wiped blood from his mace. “We’ve cut off one head,” he murmured grimly, “but the body still writhes.”

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Notes

• XP Earned: 500 each

• Treasure: 1,000 GP gem in loot; +2 Ring of Protection and rescued three slaves

• Injuries: Dog and Irving sustained wounds but no deaths

• Artifacts: The Rod of Six Parts stirred faintly, its whispers growing bolder

• Cliffhanger: The courtyard is theirs, but the temple’s deeper chambers remain unexplored. Patrols will soon notice the silence. The true power within has not yet revealed itself.

• Monsters: 

Half-orc fighter (AC 3 MV 9" Lvl 4 hp 32 #AT 1, D by weapon type)

 5 Orcs (AC 6 MV 9" HD 1 hp 4 each #AT 1, D by weapon type)