We arrive back at the town with the giant's head only to see the mercenaries leaving in disgust. Skittering out like drunken rats, they were! P'shaw, some mercenaries they were! I've seen grandma chew-up and spit-out tougher marauders than them- and I mean that literally! The town throws us a big celebration and gives us medals and an uppity townhouse and all that. I have to admit that it was nice to stay in that townhouse what with the halfling butler's cooking and all, but after a few days I began to feel a bit bourgeoisie all holed-up in such a place. It was time to get back to hunting, adventuring, or whatever else it took to stop my mind from turning to city-dwelling, crowd-fighting, ale-swilling, yogurt-eating mush.
We decided to investigate the disappearances of about eighteen local townspeople before we left and went back to Middenheim to find the Broken Arrow Gang, as we still had to figure out what we were going to do with them. Remember that they had killed that girl when they found out her family was poor and something had to be done about that. Crazily enough I figured that the investigation would be the relatively easy task, while taking care of the giant would be the difficult task. I couldn't have been more wrong, that's for true! I had assumed that the townspeople would be falling prey to a lone psychopathic killer, an underground crime syndicate, or the like, but I was completely taken off-guard by what we found.
About the only thing that connected the missing people was that most of them disappeared at night and that a significant number of them were gamblers. Since there were guards at the gates we had to conclude that they were still inside the city limits. With few other leads to go on, we decided to check out the new tavern and gambling house. Inside it was what you'd expect for a gambling den and tavern. While the pit fighter and the priest were busy gambling- I know, but don't ask about the priest. I've come to the conclusion that our priest is a bit "different," shall we say. Most priests worship at the altar, but our priest worships at the hammer. Anyway, back to the story. The priest and the pit fighter start gambling and drinking amid all the other debauchery that was going on there. Oh and the smell! There was a thick, disgusting heavy scent of-- I don't know what you'd call it but it doesn't exist in the natural world I can tell you that! I've skinned animals that were best left alone when I was young and hungry and had to mix the entrails with damp grass to mask the smell, but that was still far more palatable than the perfumed stench that was wafting through this den of depravity. Anywhoo, while the pit fighter and the priest were gambling and ale-ing it up with the trollop at the bar, I decided to take a gander around the rest of the place. The upstairs was your typical boarding area with working-class rooms for let. The main level, well that's where I got my first glimpse of the decadence that was going on. If I remember there were about eight or ten rooms echoing with the sounds carnal pleasures. Needless to say I decided to leave them to their decadence. There was also a set of stairs that led underground and I tried to see if I could slink down there unnoticed. However, I had picked the wrong time as I was caught in the act. No big deal, I figured. There would be plenty of opportunity to try again as things got out of hand. And considering that the pit fighter was with us, that wouldn't take very long.
It was painful to watch the pit fighter lose all of our reward money at the card table. I watched the dealer closely to make sure that he wasn't cheating, but I couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. After watching the pit fighter and the priest gamble all of our gold away, as well as drink and flirt with the waitresses, I finally got my chance to sneak into the basement. At first glance it was your typical basement with butcher blocks, wine racks, card tables and the like. When I took a closer look I found a hidden door and tunnel that led to a room blocked by a thick curtain. The noises that were coming from behind that curtain were louder than the ones coming from the main level.
Now let's be clear that I'm not the kind to give in to sins of the flesh, but with all of the noises that were going on and the incense in the air, I had to just pull the corner of the curtain to make sure that it really was a pool of sensual sleaze and there wasn't anything nefarious going on, well at least not too nefarious. But when I pulled that curtain back there was a spell that came over me. Now I don’t normally...
Wait a minute, don't you give me that look! It really was a sinful site of she-daemon strumpets in there! No, they were literal daemonic divas using cursed magick to tempt unsuspecting men into their immoral entanglements! If you stared closely at them you could just catch a glimpse of their chaotic, awful appendages- lobster claws, tentacles, wings, horns and the excess horribleness that was their true form. Hideous beasts they were, and dangerous to boot. Not only did they outnumber us by a wide margin, but we had lost all of our gear in the, ahem, sexy snare of a sandpit. It was the most poorly coordinated battle that we've had up to that point. We were in a free-for-all, save-yourself kind of fight. While the pit fighter was trying to slug the sycophantic slags, I was just trying to get away. I finally broke free of the voluptuous, vicious vixens and made a break for the constable's office to gather reinforcements. When I arrived back with the local law, the pitfighter was about ready to follow the harrowing, hedonistic harlot on-high to some other accursed realm of aberrant amusement. Fortunately I found a bow lying in that sordid site of what turned out to be long-corroded carcasses and took dead aim at the lusty lead lady-beast. My arrow sailed straight and true and sent the beastly bint back to whatever vile realm from whence she came. After their leader was gone the other ungainly, unctuous urchins quickly followed. Fortunately the constable was there to verify our claims, having seen first-hand the dreadful, despicable decadence that almost caused our demise.
Just from the look on your face, bartender, it's easy to see that this story of dirty, disgraceful daemons is difficult to believe. It wasn't but a few days later that the witch hunters came out and consecrated the ground so it would be fit for human habitation again. We also got a small manor in the city of Middenheim for our efforts as well, in addition to more medals. We were becoming quite the fashion show I say, but I didn't have a good feeling about that. Grandma always said that it's better to quiet wolf than the baying sheep. Now I realize that there was more to that statement than her addiction to sheep's blood.
