Between the gates a golden skull, as the wagon trundled in, Final Rhino looked up and appraised it then thought terrible sin, that the gold was just paint and his hopes for treasure dulled.

Bang and clash and hammering wood, smoke from cook fires as the fort was being built, the chieftain giving orders stood nearby in a silver-studded kilt, he ordered the death of a slave who from exhaustion dared to wilt, and the impalement on a raising palisade stake set the mood.

Seeing the crowd coming in with the logging wagon, the leader and his guard set to alert with weapons set! But on learning Steel Tongue the orog bard was here, the group with smiles were met. Lankard Eight Bones was the fort's master named and with ale their greeting wet. The disguised enchanter said that they needed rest, and this was agreed over gem-studded dwarven flagons.

Now this was what Lankard was needing! Too much work, especially in the cursed Sun, made his men flagging, no more could he do even with daily floggings!! Ah! But with the famous bard here no more their spirits be sagging, for they sore missed enemies' bleeding.

Their host's orders to give them peace, worked well for the heroes as they did rest need. Silverblade's form changed back to his normal self as potion's power fled. And so a plan they quickly made before, most wary, they went to their beds. Through the night and the dawning day the fort's work never ceased.

With setting Sun, the mood of the camp did increase, eager orcs looking forward to the famous bards appearance called out their pleas, and made great bonfire with several dried out trees, when at last he appeared the crowd to great him did run!

So the enchanted crowd, enchanted by fervour and some subtle spells, Silverblade as Steel Tongue spun a tale, of "their" nation's Northern March and battle in elven dells, and on the lingering torment of dwarves did dwell, and promised to the humans North to bring orcish hell! And to wrap Greyhawk City in a shroud!

Orcs and ogres incensed to fever pitch! Guzzling grog their "friend" had brought, looked forward to gory lessons to be taught, some prisoners to mutilate and rape were brought! BUT! The orog bard halted them as he told another tale, one most rich...

Meanwhile, the warband's shaman, a wicked, bitter soul, even for a priest of Gruumsh, grew a nasty dislike for this newcome bunch, or perhaps it was a hunch? He begged the chieftain to slaughter them to a man! At this, Lankard flew in a rage, telling shaman to shut his mouth, but word soon filtered out, for of onlookers there had been no drouth, and unease grew despite chieftain's attempts of it to assuage.

Now the centre of the fort, filled with folk of eager ear, listened to story of a treasure vast that had been found in a mere, and brought to somewhere near...all that could be heard was Silverblade's voice and burning logs in the enraptured silence so sheer...a treasure now held by a priestly sort...

To ensure loyalty and order, of this important post, over a third of the host, were priests or the devout of Gruumsh the Eye Lost, and they kept power by fear and murder.

Rumours of their now adored bard being harmed, enraged the common troops, and soon against the priestly lot they did jeer and hoot, and when one fellow tripped over a "Gruumsh" orc's boot, previous rancour and the greed for loot, ensured blood was shed before victim could be alarmed!

Seeing his chance, Final Rhino cried out aloud: "KILL THE PRIESTS AND TAKE THEIR GOLD!!" To which Silverblade added: "AYE! BEFORE YOUR LOOT THEY'VE SOLD!" Meanwhile Fizz, as a drow, turned and stabbed a priest and made him a corpse cold, then winked malicious conspiracy to an orc, who saw it as blessing and a chance!

HAVOC RAN LIKE LIGHTNING THROUGH STORM RAIN! In the night blood spattered in liquid arcs, jumping on foes bearing them down to cut throats in the dark, one priest's brains burst wet across a log's bark, destruction spreading like a stain.

In his element at last, Rhino exulted in warfare's glory! Up and down, to rip and tear and disembowel enemies most gory, the giff's great blade called out martial story. Spinning blade in his hands, holding edge through mailed hands he used pommel to make one sorry, smearing nose across his face while the reversing thrust made another leaping from the rear scream as belly split then own entrails in horror was forced to carry, soon a dozen dead as dread warrior broke his battle-fast!

Fizz, chased by several shamans, reached other comer, seeing his doom approaching he pulled out green-crystal tipped wand, and called out "TESH NEHFOHNER!". The eleven cry produced from the wand a hurling hammer, which broke one's ribs, and when called again made them trip over a falling, knightly banner! But such was its way, the Wand of Wonder was erratic as most humans!

Spells fired from wand left and right, some good, some not, the elven bard made things hot, when from it a mighty Fireball shot! Aimed at an archer in far tower whom had tried Fizz to pot, the spell also chieftain, high priest and their guards in the inferno caught! The bastion blazed incredibly bright in the battle-strewn night!

Protected by the men at arms, Silverblade urged on the orcs, soon the priestly faction were surrounded in one spot, and then with missiles deluged and shot. Numbers vast reduced, he urged his "allies" the remaining ogres and giants from the treasure to surely blot, as they were a greedy lot, and soon it was done with the aid of some Charms.

By the end of it all, scarce some twenty orcs left on foot, and they stripped the dead for easy loot, all covered from the fires in soot, but oh! They were so tired! And into sleep did fall....

The enchanted, poisoned grog had done its work, and while the orcs did snore, into all the chests and stores, the comrades did peak, open and pour, gathering best for themselves more and more. Then did the foggy morning dawn in a hushed, quiet murk...

Frightened of their king's wrath for what they had done, the orcs were cowed, and listened to what the "orog bard" allowed. There were a couple of explosions and some screams as they opened the priests' treasures unhallowed, but they left with loot for them vast indeed, headed North far and away, but grateful to their new friends for what they'd won.

Tired but well satisfied, the comrades left for Burghle the giant's home once more...