Landing in a pile on a large stone table in a massive room from out of a swilling green magic portal is very disorienting. However, it did lead to Lutz shaking off his magical blindness. First sight: Many intense dudes some covered in lacquer armor — Lutz didn’t even know lacquer was a thing you could make armor from. While Lutz pondered the truth of his eyesight, Lord Valparaiso threw a little fit. One: He was mighty pissed that his evil portal trap has ensnared him in addition to our heroes. Two: The portal had clearly been hijacked to another mysterious and far away land. The land was so strange and far from their home that Raest couldn’t feel his god Palore anymore which meant no spells. Essentially this changed his role in the party from from healer/crappy fighter to, um, crappy fighter. That single set of footprints on the beach are not from Palore carrying Raest during his darkest hour.
The team had many questions but lacking a common language they were ignored, shoved out of the big room, down a hallway, and into a smaller room with a chalkboard. A very painful session of explanation ensued. Drawings of stick figures and angry gestures soon left both sides exhausted. The time had come, once again, for Lutz to put the team on his back. Working with noted jerky-owner and consumer Bran they managed to extract salt from beef jerky infused water with heat from a torch. That pinch of salt combined with a pinch of soot plus Lutz’s NEW FOUND ARCANE TRICKSTER POWERS meant he could cast a Comprehend Languages spell. Clutch.
Now that they could understand what was being said, via Lutz, the strangers in a strange land understood that they must play a spirited game of foots-ball with big bats and a medicine ball. There would also be giant walking trees that shoot hurt-y needles if you get too close. Hitting other players was allowed and encouraged but the ultimate goal was to get the 2 foot wide medicine ball into the goal by any means necessary. Winner gets not to die. Best 2 out of 3. Classy.
Our ambassador/coach/warden gave the team a (perhaps) last meal. It kinda seemed she might have an interest in seeing team Lutz win. Was betting involved? Who’s to say? Mind your own business. The important part of this last feast was that everyone got a rest and Lutz hid away a small amount of alcohol.
Upon reaching the field for the first match the team saw their competitors. From far away they appeared to be a bunch of imps and a man. As they came closer the dread increased as our brave band of adventurers saw one 9 foot tall center and a bunch of good sized dudes.
At the start of the match more bad news came pretty fast: Clustering around the ball made the team susceptible to a sleep spell from the safely 50 foot back magic user. The other team had “forwards” running down the wings, defenders hanging back, and an actual strategy. Peren, Lutz, Bran, and Raytheon had more of a “swarming bees” strategy that kinda played right into team bad guys’ “cast a sleep spell and send a man down the side lines” strategy.
You might think the gang got out of this one with some clever thinking, but no, they mostly just whacked everything nearby which included the ball. Ray-ray, in particular, took out his frustrations over losing all of his promising new cult by smashing every opponent excessively: Often from behind. Somehow this aggressive flailing got the ball past the team jerk face’s front line and rolling. The big bad, being not very big on smarts, crushed the ball towards the wall which was about 90 degrees off from his target goal. Lutz used his superior speed and agility to do 2 things in the time another would merely perform one. He wake up the sleeping members of his team and flanked the opposition. Bran got all “angry barbarian” and made like Lutz with the 2 to 1 actions. Unfortunately the other team had a double attacker too - lots of hustle displayed on the pitch that day. The first match was won by Lutz picking up the ball, using his crazy moves to break the ankles of the other team, and bursting on through to the goal.
During the break Lutz cast a False Life upon himself with his fly arcane trickster powers using the dram of alcohol he had acquired from the “last supper.” Palore, wherever he may be, did not favor Raest with the heal spell he so desperately needed. Only a jerk would have pointed out that necromancy had succeeded where religion had failed. A bit more rested than before the team braced for the coming match. How would the other team solve the “Lutz problem?”
Well how could you? He’s just too damn fast and agile. Like they used to say about famed foots-ball player Mycroft Jordan-Hammer: You can’t stop a Lutz, you can only hope to contain him. Once again Lutz woke up sleepy members of the team, picked up the ball, and made a break for it. Problem was that this time a terror tree decided to get between Lutz and the goal. Now a normal thief, pick pocket, 2nd story man, or even assassin would perhaps have turned tail at that point. Lutz sucked up his courage, cast “Thunder Wave,” and knocked the terror tree aside. An entire walking tree pushed back 10 feet by a skinny studded leather wearing punk of an 18 year old. Just picture it. Now picture a bunch of jerks chasing Lutz for a few long seconds as it is became apparent to all that it was going to be a 2-0 sweep. Clutch.
Now that they won the right not be slaughtered for a god’s favor, how will these heroes be treated in a land even Palore has forgotten? Tune in next time to find out.