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Drek grabbed the rope and pulled himself up to the branch. He grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and held his dagger to the man's throat.

"Listen closely, bandit. I want to know how many others are with you, and what you think you were doing attacking us," the elf demanded.

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Both Marcus and Drek got similar replies from their respective bandits. Seems that they're members of an outlaw band of highway robbers. The band is made up of a wide selection of criminal low-lives, and it's led by the Orge Mage known only as "The Tatooed One." The band generaly wanders around and tries to avoid the law while ambushing likely targets on the road. Anyone who looks like they've got some coin is fair game as long as The Tatooed One gives the word. Right now, the band has six members plus the Ogre Mage, including the two that Drek and Marcus have interdicted.

Just as Marcus and Drek were interogating their arested bandits, four human figures jumped out of the bush and rushed at Micheal. "Kill the mage, quick!" One of them shouted.

Meanwhile, Maxwell and Farnham had managed to battle the Ogre-Mage to a stalemate. The Orge was using a massive war club with a spike through the buisness end, but he hadn't managed to land any blows yet. The Orge's fighting style was best described as "ME CRUSH!" (a phrase the Ogre repeatedly shouted like a mantra all through the battle). It was relying on brute strength and not much else. Maxwell and Farnham were fast and nimble, rolling and dodgeing to avoid the Orge's blows and then darting in with a blade to poke the Orge in the belly, in the ribs, in the legs.
The Ogre had taken several deep cuts and quite a few gashes, but all this seemed to do was fuel it's rage. It bellowed out it's frustration: "Stand still, human. Me crush you to jelly! Arrrrrrg!"

Micheal knew the melee would keep the Ogre-Mage from casting any more spells becasue if it tried to do that it would have to stop defending himself from the swordsmen; doing that would be suicidal. Casting all but the simplest of spells requires concentration and dicipline, so dividing your attention is a sure way to blow the spell.
Micheal felt like he'd just sprinted in a 100-yard dash. His mind was clear, but his body was certainly feeling the effects of the telekenitic fists he had cast. He wasn't exhausted, but he could use a rest. A good rest after the Mage was defeated and he'd be right as rain. His training at the academy had taught him to expect this sort of spellcasting fatuige, so he knew he was alright to cast another spell... just had to be carefull not to make it too powerfull. The sight of attackers closing on him had a way of focusing the mind as well.

The four bandits were rushing Micheal in a line, and were about twenty feet away. Just time for one spell...

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"Just stay away from me. You won't want to mess with these." Marcus flexed his huge arms, and the bandit fled.

"That takes care of--" Marcus sniffed something. It was the Ogre attacking Farnham & Maxwell! Marcus made a run for the monster, careful not to let his boots make a sound in the grass.

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Michael to avoid getting hit casted Colorspray and the spell blinded 3 bandits and one was knocked out. 2 of the blinded bandits were killed by a fellow sightless brigand by accident and the other blind bandit was a target for Flaming Finger.

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<Hey guys, I'd make a character but I'm gonna be gone for about 10 days. Anyway Sarge, could you please post race/class atributes and abilities? See y'all in a week and a half!>

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Drek heard the shouts of the party. He quickly knocked out the archer with a blow to the tmple from the butt of his dagger. The elf leaped out of the tree and headed for them.

As he approached, he saw that they were having a goos deal of trouble with the ogre. Drek knew that Maxwell and Farnham couldn't avoid his blows forever, and he didn't seem to be very susceptible to normal injuries. He needed some way to distract the ogre. The elf pulled out his bow and loaded it with a tar-soaked cloth arrow, which he lit with his flint and tinder, and fired at the ogre. "Hey ugly! Over here!"

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<GM's Note: This is freeform roleplaying. There's no character atibutes or statistics per se. It's stricktly roleplaying. Read the rules on the first page.>

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Maxwell zigged when he should have zagged and nearly became one with the cobblestones as the Ogre's great club came smashing down inches from Maxwell's face. The Ogre seemed to be concentrating entierly on Maxwell now, lifting his club over his head with both hands to deliver a great crushing blow. This proved to be a fatal mistake, for it gave Farnham an oportunity to deliver a devistating backstabing. Farnham threw himself up against the orge's back, driving his short sword deep into the orge's spine. The sword went all the way in, right to the hilt. This severed the spine below the waist. A gurgle of pain escaped the Orge's lips and a look of surprise came across his face. The club, held over his head, slipped from his hands as his knees bucked under him. He slowly topped over like a tree. The Orge landed flat on his face and lay there, motionless, barely alive.

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Marcus made it to the Ogre just as the monster fell on its face. He raised his sword & plunged it into the Ogre's chest, just to make sure it was dead.

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With the Ogre dead and the bandits defeated, the party gathered together to congratulate each other and check that everyone was alright.

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The lizzard man proudly flexed his arms in victory. This was his first big fight. "Good shot with that arrow, Mr. Drek!"

Marcus turned to the 2 brothers. "Are you alright, Sirs?"

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"Just a little winded." said Maxwell. "Let me catch my breath."
"Man, that guy was tough." said Farnham.

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"He was! I'd never seen such a big monster before." Marcus looked for the magician.

"I hope Mr. Michael is alright."

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"Not a scratch" said Michael, "4 bandits almost sliced me, fortunately I blinded them before they got me".

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"Well, that's great!" Marcus smiled. "I wish I could be a magician like you! But I'm a lizzard. Lizzards can't do magic."

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Farnham said: "Well, we certainly kicked some butt here. Good job, everyone. Too bad the rest of them got away. Hrm... looks like this Orge has a coinpurse stashed under his belt. Let's see what's in it."

Farnham cut the dead Ogre's coinpurse off the body. He opened it and looked inside. "Nuts. No coins. Just a key and a tiny little scroll."
Maxwell said: "Hrm, I wonder what that key is for..."
Farnham unrolled the scroll. "uh, guys... I can't read this."
Farnham passed the scoll around. Drek couldn't read it, neither could Marcus or Maxwell. Micheal, however, could read it. It was written in the language of Thamutology, and it was a spell. It was an illusion spell, so Micheal got out his spellbook and copied the new spell into it.

<GM's Note: Micheal is now able to cast this spell. How much he can make invisble without it knocking him out from fatuige is something he'll have to find out from trial and error. Description follows:
Inanimate Object Invisibility, Permanent Effect. This powerfull Illusion-type spell can permanently render invisible any one inanimate object that the caster can see. Spellcasting fatigue and the chance of spell failure increase proportinaly to the size of the object (not the weight of the object, but rather the volume of space the object takes up. Thus a pound of lead would be much easier to hide than a pound of feathers).
Once the spell is successfully cast, the affected object is only visible to the caster. However, if the object generates sound, smell, vibrations or produces any other non-visualy noticable effect, such effects will not be hidden by this spell. Thus, a creaky oxcart loaded with manure would still creak and would still stink even after being rendered invisible by this spell. If this spell is cast upon an object and that same object is then used to cover, surround, block or conceal a second object, the second object will still be visible. Thus, casting this spell upon a cloak and then donning that cloak will not make any part of the wearer of that cloak invisible.
The effects of this spell will last untill it is deliberately undone by the proper spell-canceling effect. The caster cannot will the end of the spell's effect becasue the spell is self-sustaining. Becasue the spell is self-sustaining, even the death of the caster will not disrupt this spell's efects. It is known that the following spells can be used to end this spell's effects: Invisibility Purge, Anti-Magic Shell, Dispell Illusions, Dispell Magic. Also, the spells True Sight, True Seeing, See Invisible, and Peirce Illusion can allow one to see past the effect of this spell without actualy ending the spell.
Also, some creatures that have a natural (or unnatural) imunity to illusions or will be able to see objects affected by this spell.>

After reading the spell and understanding it, Micheal had a feeling that the Ogre must have hidden his own Spell Book with this spell, since he doesn't seem to have it on him. It's highly unusual for any Mage, even a Ogre-Mage, to be without his Spell Book for any reason. Since the Ogre could have still seen his Spell Book while nobody else could have, it makes sense that he might have done this as a way to safeguard his Spell Book.

Drek's mind turned back to the strange bow the tree-sniper had been using, the one of Gnomish design that has pullys and levers. He wondered how it worked. It was still laying at the base of that tree, so he thought he'd go have a look while the Mage was reading.

Marcus was disapointed that there wasn't any gold on the Ogre, but he wondered if there was any on the other rouges.

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Drek wlked back over to the tree and picked up the sniper's bow. He gave an experimental tug on the string.

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"I'm going to see if the other guys have any gold." Marcus went off in search of a little treasure.

He found one gold coin on the bandit that Drek had killed with his arrow, the others only had Farthings & Pennies. Still, Marcus's money bag was now a little fatter...and it was all for him.

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The bowstring seemed normal enough, but the amount of pull required to bring the string back seemed to be about what it should be for the length of the bow. However, when Drek let go of the bow, he heard a set of gears whirr and spin, and a set of lines on the bow pulled taut.. and then then the pull-string snaped back into place. Drek then realised that this bow has two sets of strings on it. One was the set that propelled the arrow, the other was used to tension the propelling string. The tension was stored by the gears into some mechanism he didn't understand... he had no background for such mechanical wizzardy as this.
Despite not quite understanding why it worked, he had a clear idea how to operate it. It was kind of like a crossbow, only you pulled the string to power it instead of cranking a handle. This could come in handy for shooting arrows longer distances than would otherwise be possible. The only downside he could see was that this bow didn't allow an archer to rapidly fire off arrows in quick succession like a normal bow does.
The bow also had a notched quiver or barbed steel arrows, but Dreck had plenty of those in his own quiver. Since the found arrows were much the same, he used them to replace the two he'd fired off and left the rest.
Drek was sure the bow must be stolen, and from the look of it he figgured it was probably one-of-a-kind. Someone would pay a hansomly rteward to get this thing back. In the meanwhile, he though he might as well make some use of it.

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"Well I was hoping for a spell that could lift things in the air" said Michael, "Well, what do you expect with an ogre who can use magic."

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Suddenely Michael casted Anti-magic Shell on the Orge to find the ogre's spell book.

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When Micheal 's Anti-Magic shell shimmered into existence, Micheal nearly fell over from the acumulated fatiuge. He was very, very tired. However, it was worth it.
As the Anti-Magic Shell canceled out all magic around the Ogre, several previously invisible items became visbile. A Book (his Spell Book) was attached to the Ogre's belt by an iron chain, as was a Bag of Holding which contained 36 gold coins. Bag also held a journal, but unfortunately it was all written in Ogreish and nobody in the group understood any of it. However, the back page of the journal has a map of this area of Skaera Brae on it, with the roads and forests outlined. On particular forest was drawn in more detail than the otheres, and was depicted as having a clearing in the center that held a camp. The clearing on the map might mark where the bandits' main camp is.

Maxwell distrubuted the 36 gold evenly amongst the party. (So each member got six gold.) He gave the Bag of Holding to Marcus, since Marcus was the strongest of group and could therfore make the most use of it.

Micheal was too tired to read the spellbook, but he saw that it held at least a dozzen spells. He'd need to rest before he tried to learn them all, but he was just too tired to do it now.

<GM's note(s): Marcus, you now have a Bag of Holding. This is an enchanted bag that can hold an endless amount of items, so long as that item will fit past the bag's 8-inch opening (which doesn't stretch). Once an item is inside the bag, the bag does not change it's outward appearance, giving no indication of what is in the bag. In fact, no matter what is in the bag, the bag always looks like an ordinary empty bag. However, items that are inside the bag still weight what they did outside the bag, and that weight will be felt by anyone who picks up the bag (or tries to pick up the bag, at any rate). The inside of the bag is actualy a special kind of pocket dimention. Putting your hand inside the bag automaticly puts your hand into contact with the item you wished to retrive, or (if you don't know the contents of the bag) it randomly selects an item and put it in you hand. Turning the bag upside down dumps the entire contents of the bag out, rapidly, one by one.

Micheal, you now have the Ogre-Mage's spellbook, which you can copy to your own spellbook as soon as you're rested enough.

Drek, you've still got that Gnomish Bow (that's the proper name for it) you found.

Hope everyone likes the treasure so far. >

Maxwell said: Marcus, lets' you and me carry Micheal the rest of the way to the Inn. He looks like he really need the rest.

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"Yes, sir." Marcus picked up Michael by the shoulders; Maxwell took hold of the magician's ankles. Michael was rather slender, but he was tall. Marcus could have carried him with one hand if he wanted to.

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As they walked, Drek asked, "So, did anyone check the other bandits for loot?"

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"No, I didn't find anything." Marcus knew that was a lie, but he didn't care. Nobody else would find out...finders keepers, right?

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After an hour's walk, the party arived at the Inn. Maxwell asked the clerk for some rooms, but the clerk explained that there was only one room left. It had a double bed, but the clerk said he'd have the staff put one of their spare bunk beds and a cot in there; that way nobody wuld have to sleep on the floor. Maxwell said that that would be fine. The clerk said the party could wait in the lobby while he had the staff move the bunk-bed in.

"Alright" said Maxwell. The only have one room left, but I got it. We'll have to wait while they put extra beds in the room, though. At least we can sit in the lobby. Grab a seat, guys. Shouldn't be too long.
Maxwell and Marcus deposited the now-asleap Micheal into the most comfortable chair they could find. Too bad for Micheal it was just a plain wrough-iron chair with a pillow for a seat cussion.
The Inn was not what one would call "fancy" by any stretch ofn the imagination. It was a very basic wooden stucture with a kitchen and a bar on the main floor and two stories of rooms above that. A sign hanging outside displayed a logo made up of two hands streched outward, with text below it spelling out "Inn of the Welcome Hand". The walls of the inn were rough-hewn, with plaster filling the places where the timbers met. All the windows were shuttered, and the party could see that the windows were of the type that has no glass in it.

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Marcus set down the Bag of Holding & his money-sack, and found a "seat" on the hard floor. He was a little fatigued, but not nearly as Michael. The lizzard man's stomach growled.

"Maxwell, do you know where we can get some food? I'm pretty hungry!"

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Maxwell said. "Well, they have a kitchen here. Ask at the bar."

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"Righteo. Anybody else hungry?"

Marcus took a seat at the bar. "Excuse me. What do you have to eat?"

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The Bartender sauntered over, a metal beer stein in his left hand and a rag in his right. He had a rough, but not unpleasent look about him. His thickly muscled arms were tatooed in patterns and designs common to the Woad peoples who inhabited the northern parts of Skare Brae, and he wore an eye patch over his left eye.
"Arr.. we got's us a Hip O'beef a'hanging in the larder, and me Hilda's a-got's a batch of Potato-Celery Soup bubbling in the kitchen. Our bread is a Rye bread, and it's none too fresh this late in the day, but I could break ye off a hunk if ye fancy some. Just about to close up for the night, so ye'd best be fast with yer choosing, m'lord. Sherrif's Curfue starts in twenty clock-ticks, and the sherrif is a right stickler for that curfue of his. I's got's to get home afore midnoght lest I be paying the fine come daybreak, you see."
The man's accent clearly definding him as one of the Woad people, and Marcus wondered what he was doing tending bar this far south. However, his wonder would have to wait if he wanted to eat before the bar closed.

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