Varney the Vampire. Or THE FEAST OF BLOOD!

Some of the following events may have happened as described. Everything else is true, 'pon my mortal soul. 

- Tu Pointyears.

When last we left our heroes, the ferocious spider had nearly slain the whole party. Whilst others cowered upstairs, brave Bear sacrificed his life for the party, and with his dying blow slew the foul beast that had feasted on Gillard, the prancing halfing.

"Woe is us," cried the party. "Who shall be in the front line now?" There was much pointing at others, and quick placing of thumbs on foreheads. Fortunately, the silence was broken by the moaning of Bear, and the unmarmalding of Tu. "Thank Christ for that," exclaimed Myrtle the Magical who'd been last to place her finger to her forehead.

*Bear was merely paralyzed by spider venom. He would need several days to recover*

Looking carefully at the ceiling of the cavern, the party discerned movement. And what seemed to be a cocooned body. Perhaps it was not too late for Gillard? All eyes turned to the only party member who could climb, Ouzo the not so Brave.

*Ouzo had returned from upstairs after Tu went to get him.*

Grabbing a stick from the ground, Ouzo hit the web repeatedly until there was movement high above which suddenly accelerated toward the party. Two huge spiders the size of bears came barreling towards the weakest members - Dopey Debbie, Dexter the Dextrous, and Oliver from Cromwell.

"Fear not!! For I shall slay the fell beasts." said Tu the Magnificent. And he did. This surprised everyone, but as usual they wasted no time in claiming their part in the killing, even though they had done nought.

Leaping into action, Ouzo proceeded to climb into the web. "I bet you 10 gp he falls," Oliver said to no-one in particular. Which was a shame, because seconds later that's exactly what happened. Dusting off his ego he claimed, "It's too sticky." Ouzo had a new idea. "If only we had a ladder." You mean like this one," Oliver yelled from the top rung using a ladder he'd found upstairs. He searched the webs carefully and found three mummified bodies. One of which was still alive! Mighty Gillard, the prancing halfing, was rescued!! To celebrate, a game of kickball using the heavily cocooned halfling ensued. 

"Are you sure he can't feel anything?" queried Debbie. 

"Who knows. But he definitely can't talk, so who cares," smiled Myrtle the Munificent.

Searching the cavern led to the discovery of the family heirlooms - 2 locked chests. One of which was easily opened by Ouzo. The other was magically trapped. A sudden outbreak of altrusim afflicted several members of the party. "We can't take from a widow," insisted Myrtle and Ouzo. Pausing from the pocketing of a bag of 300 gp, Tu pointed to the contract the widow had signed with the party. "Paragraph one, section A. The party is entitled to keep any and all items (gold or otherwise) that it finds in the course of this operation. Henceforth, I have no claim to any of etc. etc. etc.""

*There was a very long discussion on the ethics of taking from widows. Contract or no contract*

"Party treasure," chorused the cheap seats. Myrtle and Ouzo gave their share to the widow. Oliver scored some sweet wizard robes with stars and moons emblazoned all over. And a pointy hat.

After much debate, the party decided to stay and wait for Bear to recover. The healer estimated that this could take 2-3 days. These passed uneventfully. Until they didn't.

On the night of the third day, the middle watch (Tu, and Oliver) slept fitfully until the rest of the party were all awoken by the terrified neighing of the party's horse (Horse). 

"LET THERE BE LIGHT", cried Myrtle. And there was. 

Illuminated by the spell, six kobolds froze and pretended to be shrubberies. This was not a great plan. After some rapid pruning (Score Tu 2,  Dexter 2, Oliver 1) the survivor fled into the darkness. A volley of arrows peppered Horse. 

"LET THERE BE LIGHT", cried Myrtle. And there was.

Over by the stables - there were a dozen more shrubberies. Not counting the archers.

"Wait, we have a stables? Why didn't we put Horse in . . ." 

"Hindsight is 20/20," Scuttle interrupted Myrtle, "Let's get him in the the house."

*Many BBLG rolls later which turned out to be only a minute the deed was done. Fortunately for the party, the shrubberies vanished into the darkness*

The rest of the night passed uneventfully. Upon the breaking of dawn the party arose, and departed for home. Frustrated by the waiting, Tu and Ouzo canvassed the rest of the party's support for the bleeding of the poison from Bear's veins. Myrtle wavered, and was almost convinced, but Bear still woozy from the poison, awakened just in time. Propped up on Horse, roped to a rake to hold him upright, we departed. To raise their spirits, Debbie found reason to sing. Fortunately, the party was well supplied with moss to surreptitiously stuff into their ears. Travelling rapidly during the days, and hiding at night we returned home uneventfully.

Home. A teeming metropolis that never sleeps. Not. Home, a tiny pimple in the arse of beyond that doesn't even have a mages guild that can cast dispel magic. "If only we had someone dumb enough to open that chest . . ." mused Scuttle. All eyes swivelled to Debbie.

"Debbie, I found this key in the dead man's belongings. I wonder if it fits?" 

Snatching the key from Oliver's hand, Debbie cried "It's about time I did something!!!" To which the party nodded gravely as we moved to a safe distance. A very safe distance. It really is about time she did something was the consensus of the group. She'd been with us a long time now, and we could not recall anything she had done previously. This was new!

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT. The smell of burning flesh and singed hair filled the air. Closely followed by the sound of singing.

*Debbie failed her save and took the minimum damage possible. Lucky!*

"Check out the swag guys, I need to lie down" and Debbie sashayed away to the sound of James Brown.

A veritable smorgasbord of loot awaited, the best of which was a magical shortsword, and scabbard. "That's mine" squeaked Ouzo. "I can use a shortsword." 

"Need I remind you, of the dastardliness of taking from a widow', Tu reminded him pointedly. Ouzo the Hypocritical didn't blink an eye. Struggling with tying the scabbard to his waist he replied 'finders, keepers."

"Shouldn't we roll for this."

"We could sell it."

"Myrtle, what do you think?"

After much discussion, the party turned to Ouzo to inform him of its decision. He was long gone.

*The ancient scroll of magical allotment determined that he could have it because no-one else wanted it. Darrly is moved to last on the list *

Rested and healed, the party was summoned to the temple of Real for a new job offer. Escorting some wet behind the ears recruit (Pierre) to the next town over. It was a job for noobs, so we took it. After the failure of the last job, and the loss of the child, perhaps redemption could be found in saving someone else's soul. The contract was signed and sealed on the spot. Surprisingly, Oliver the Cursed found the scabbard and sword tied around his waist. Odd, but free magic items have to be good?

* Darryl is restored on the list, and Jeff goes to bottom. Cursed or not . . . magic counts!*

Leaving the next day we travelled uneventfully until arriving in a nondescript town we stayed at a local inn. Some stuff happened. There was a fight between Tu and a dwarf. The party thought him getting almost killed by a dwarf was so funny everyone invited said dwarf to join the party. Everyone except Tu. "Iron Buttock. Cool name." Let's face it, adding random strangers into the mix, never ends badly. We also added him to a watch. Trust is hard earned in the wilderness. But not with these noobs.  

It was the last night before arriving at the next town. Further testing of the sword showed its teleporting qualities. The middle watch of Tu and Oliver were - surprisingly - awake when we heard a human scream in the distance. No more than 100 yards from camp. Swiftly rousing the rest, we found Bear the Unlucky knocked unconscious, and the traitorous Pierre missing. The sword was gone. 

Remembering how their tardy response doomed the child, we rushed into the dark, Tu, Debbie, and Oliver with their keen elvish senses soon found the source of the scream. There was Pierre, soul sucked from his shrivelled husk with the scabbard by his side. "Huh, guess I'm not the unlucky one after all," Bear quipped. Quickly consulting the contract the party was disappointed to find that it did indeed specify said recruit needed to be delivered ALIVE. It was written in bold in the first sentence. A Thought Capture from Myrtle confirmed that Pierre was legging it with the loot, before he got attacked by bad things.

The party agreed that either a vampire, a ghost, a ghoul, or a ghast had to be responsible. Or a Lich. Until we found the three sets of tracks. Two five toed sets, and one set of slippers (?) Huddling frightenedly until daylight we followed the trail to the riverbank where it headed upstream. The sword returned. One quick conversation later and we headed to the town of Thyme, abandoning the trail. The Real Temple confirmed the soul sucking nature of Pierre's death.

"Let's call the Vampire, Varney!" we cried. And so it was. Until it wasn't.

*Usually we argue the point and do nothing for about thirty minutes before deciding on a course of action. This was unanimous, and took about 1 minute.*