Thanks for coming to town, boys.

1/2/06: It's holiday gaming! On a Monday! eBill's family had not yet left Columbus, so we even had Analog Bill! But back to the story.

During the trip away from Bigot-Town, we came upon the corpse of an elvish warrior who had required several arrows to reach his demise, and who had apparently taken a number of his enemies with him for the trip. He had written a warning on his arm (in his own blood, natch) saying that his townspeople were being held in an old castle somewhere.

We followed his trail back to (we assume) his village, which had been emptied of elves but which had a good number of dead orcs scattered around. An orcish patrol made enough noise on approach for us to take cover in plenty of time. Their leader, having made the tactical error of actually being in front, then received the first shot of pretty much every PC. The other five grunts soon followed.

Under very open threat of torture, one orc filled in some details: the old castle is inhabited by some sort of huge psychic bug, who has taken control of the orcish clan and who has a taste for elfmeat. Time to stock up on Potions of Raid.