The Strange Tale of Hob's End

Most sailors knew well the danger of Jungle Rot, a particularly ugly little infection that can occasionally be found among sailors who were overly amorous with the young women of the Amedio Jungles. A cleric of power will typically remove the affliction in exchange for a rather large quantity of hard earned coin. Well Second Master on a trade vessel named Meritor called Hob had developed something of an itch for the lovely southern girls. Little did he know that not all "Rot" is so easily cured or so docile in its encroachment of the mortal condition.

After spending a blissful evening with a girl he had mistaken as a minor consort to a village elder he found himself with a small amount of blistering and swelling down in his nether region. The short time of pleasure he had scraped together with the fetching woman did not equal the pains he endured on the long voyage back up to Greyhawk and eventually on to Dyvers.

It was odd for him though, as the infection spread the pain lessened, and an occasional whisper tickled his ear suggesting he forget the trivial itch that occasional sprang up in his trousers and had begun to spread. That slight voice had also planted an extra little dark seed to better protect its interest, if any were to confront him about the poorly concealed infection that was stretching itself out it would be best if he dealt with them sternly so that the rumor might not ruin his pristine reputation.

Unfortunately for a sweet, if slightly desperate, courtesan in the employ the less than famous Madame Mab'Rique she was his chosen love for the hour, and she had the tragic misfortune of diligently checking him for diseases before granting excessive intimacy. When the polite girl pointed out his ailment, the piratical John drew out his knife and carved deeply into the poor damsel's face and arms. The scars his enchanted dagger created were so ugly and containing an infection so harsh, she would be forever marked by that night's horror. Amidst the no longer professional lover's screams and wailing her assailent slipped quietly into the night; following the now harsh tone of the phantom voice that granted no peace.

When word of Hob's unforgivable crime spread out into the city, it was the quartet of opportunistic adventurers that took up the banner of harlot demanded justice. Each was careful to stake out their place and coordinate their search so that the scoundrel would not slip free the noose they were making for him. Kurdt took watch at the seedy dives such a scoundrel would be known to frequent, then with the skilled subterfuge of a master rake the oafish looking half-orc put out feelers offering his strong blade to defend the "wrongly accused" Hob, for a price. The master grifter Vin Turen took his post at the docks proper, watching the comings and goings of the Meritor's crew. With the small lookout in place there was no chance that Hob would escape aboard his floating home. The halfling journeyman sneak named Belkar understood well the workings of a whoremonger's mind. Knowing that someone who trolls for flesh so frequently would not long hold back his black lust the diminuative cutpurse had many exchanges with a multitude of courtesans. Leaving no blanket unfurled or alleyway slink avoided, Belkar learned of Hob's abduction of two more lovers for hire by the unbalanced sailor Hob. The lynchpin of course for this operation was the expert sleuth Dame Lora. It was her cunning tracking across the urban wilderness that revealed the final whereabouts of the murderous lech.

With the location pinpointed by his female companion, Master Turen knew that he had to block off that ever present escape route, the Meritor. Taking the magical powders of Karaash and Ilnevell and packing it into bags, barrels, and assorted kegs he set about sinking Hob's crucial refuge. Knowing the expense involved was enormous the gnome's companion Kurdt became furious over the squandering of resources and in a fit of rage announced he would no longer chase after the cornered sailor. The near-giant's muscle might surely have been lost if not for the alcohol-induced persuasion of both Belkar and Vin.

Soon after the brutes reenlistment, Lora returned to inform her small band that Hob had been trapped. Leading the trio swiftly through the night, Lora took them before the abandoned manor of a forgotten family. Its sole known owner an unhinged hermit, the quartet of bravery entered the darkness.

Within grand hall stood a pair of harsh assassins aided by a trio of symbiot poisoned slaves. Using his near supernatural reflexes Belkar drove back one of the assailants that menaced the suddenly ill prepared Lora. With a mastery of the small blade few would have thought possible Belkar gave a slight feint and let the tip pierce deep into the spiner of his would-be killer.

For his part Vin was not standing idle. Seeing the other cutthroat fading into the shadow and drawing a bow, the gnome brought out his sling and iron bullet. Swinging the leather strap hard and fast Vin let fly his ammunition. The hard metal smashed into the second assassin's temple tumbling the quickly fading life.

His small friends dealing nicely with the truly living, Kurdt let himself go flush. The deep spark of rage that formed the core of his orcish heart was set free. Muscles tensed, nerves fell silent, a preturnatural lust for blood and vengance against the world filled his every thought. The walking corpses closed with the berserker their dim minds unaware of what stood before them. With a grand sweep of well-forged steel, Kurdt cut down the minor obstacles before him and charged up a rotting staircase seeking fresher meat to feed his savage hunger.

It took only five great leaping steps to reach the balcony, the force of each tyranical step so thundrous the decayed railing fell away, landing in a heap within the dead hall. Before him was a stately set of double-doors, their polish and gleam a peculiar contrast to the forgotten filth that decorated all else in eyesight. Striking out his foot in frustration at the door blocking him the wood was forced free the strong oak, splinters of the ruined frame raining across the newly revealed room.

While Kurdt was dealing with the dark unknown upstairs, Lora set about attracting other ooze possessed creatures to her by conjusring a small orb of light. As she steeled herself for the inevitable attack by the mindless enemy that seemed to infest this once stately home, she ordered Vin to ready his spell, Inferno's Orb. When enough were within its zone of danger the gnome was to unleash the magic's destruction without regard to her safety, the evil that was found here had to be stopped now, before it spread into the city. Belkar had never forgotten the stories of the innocent vixens that had been lured by Hob into this living hell. Realizing that he had only moments to act the halfling dashed up the steps behind Kurdt seeking to find where the sweet ladies might be hidden.

As Kurdt stepped into the dark room, his unnatural vision granted him sight where the others couldn't. The room housed only a great bed and a time ravaged bureau in the corner. On the bed were two figures, one sported the curves of what should have been a comely woman, the other a man strung up like a broken prisoner. As the half-orc charged into the room the inhuman female sprang up from the bed unsheathing poisoned claws.

The two enemies circled one another, then plunged into deadly battle. Claws cut deep into the orc's arm, but the favor was returned two fold when the remnants of the vague female's bowels were sliced wide. Two more rends of claw damaged mail shirt and let flesh be torn free. Kurdt, unmindful of the pain reared back his great sword, and exposing his chest fully for only a moment, swung about hard and fast setting free the thing's head from its shoulders. A terrifying shriek escaped the dead beast's fetid lips and its remains were consumed in a release of fume and smoke, bits of rot falling into the half-orc's exposed wounds.