Chapter VII: The Barbarian Blender

Previously on Accordia:

After leaving their magical hut, the adventurers pressed deeper into the Mad Wizard’s Tower. Cord had vanished in the night, and the party carried with them the weight of unanswered questions — and the steady glow of Barluk’s crown and orb.

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🔥 The Campfire Ultimatum

They found the fire first.

Seven rough men sat around a blaze, shadows dancing on their faces. At the far edge stood a hooded figure — a drow, eyes faintly red in the firelight, smile sharp as a blade.

Barluk stomped right into their circle, crown shining, and dropped onto a block of stone as though it were his own hearth.

“What’s up, fellers?”

The drow’s smile widened.

“Did you sleep well? …We knew you were here.”

The party stiffened. Gatz gripped his axe. Hank’s cursed blade threw pale glow across the fire. Doug’s fingers twitched at his book. Altoid hissed low.

The drow spread his hands.

“You’ve killed what was ours. Balance must be paid. Go below. Slaughter the wererats. Do that, and you’ll live. Your reward…” he paused, “…is ten gold.”

Barluk’s laugh rolled out like thunder.

“Ten gold wouldn’t buy me breakfast. You want me to bleed for scraps?”

Gatz spat. “Sounds like suicide.”

Hank sneered. “If you had the guts, you’d have done it yourselves.”

Doug smirked. “A nest of wererats for the price of a spell component. Inspired.”

The drow’s grin never faltered.

“The Tower devours both the arrogant and the desperate. Entertain us, or die here.”

Barluk rose, crown gleaming, obsidian sword at his side, and for a heartbeat the fire dimmed beneath his shadow.

Gatz growled: “Fine. We’ll play your game. But when we find the wererats, we’ll remember your throat, not your coin.”

The drow only smiled.

The bargain was struck. The adventurers walked on — with no intention of risking their lives for ten gold.

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🪓 The Bugbear Ambush

The corridor ended at a heavy door. Gatz shoved it open and peered into blackness. Without darkvision, he saw only hulking shapes breathing too loud. Two, maybe three.

Then Barluk entered.

Above his crown, the orb of light drifted into the chamber, flooding it with brilliance. Shadows fled. The truth snapped into focus.

Ten bugbears.

They crouched low, eyes gleaming red-yellow, morningstars dangling like pendulums. Then they rushed.

The first wave didn’t swing — they grappled. Gatz was crushed in a bearhug, ribs screaming. Barluk was slammed against the doorframe, arms pinned. Hank’s bow was wrenched aside. Even Altoid was scooped squealing into the air before clawing free.

In seconds, they were trapped.

Doug’s eyes narrowed. He traced sigils, voice sharp as glass. The Slow spell rippled out.

The bugbears faltered. Their swings dragged like honey. Their grips weakened. Eyes widened in shock.

Barluk roared.

The Goliath ripped loose, crown blazing, orb flooding the chamber. Cleave Edge came down like judgment, splitting his captor in two and carrying through another.

The Barbarian Blender began.

The obsidian greatsword spun in his hands, every strike flowing seamlessly into the next. With the bugbears slowed, none could dodge. Each cleave tore another down, blood spraying in arcs across the stone.

Gatz broke free, his axe rising and falling beside Barluk’s endless storm. Two barbarians, mirrored in fury, hacking the slowed brutes apart.

Three bugbears dropped. Doug’s voice turned necrotic. Their corpses twitched… then rose.

Three bugbear zombies lurched to their feet, wounds still open, eyes pale. They turned on their brothers. The living froze in horror as their own dead joined the storm.

The fight collapsed. Hank’s arrows struck home. Altoid snapped at ankles with savage glee. Doug’s undead clawed. And Barluk spun through it all, crown gleaming, orb blazing, obsidian blade unstoppable.

The last bugbear tried to rally. Cleave Edge struck true. The brute exploded in gore, blood and viscera splattering across the chamber and drenching Barluk from crown to boots.

Barluk lifted his sword high, dripping red, and roared:

“It’s good to be the king!”

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💰 The Bazaar Debacle

Dragging a shackled bugbear and three zombies into the Bazaar turned chaos into spectacle. Merchants gawked. Soldiers froze. Whispers spread under the steady glow of Barluk’s orb.

The prisoner, bound in Hank’s shackles, lumbered behind Gatz.

The guards stepped forward.

“Metal off. All of it.”

Weapons clattered. But when Gatz tried to swap the shackles for rope, trusting his “apprentice” too much… the bugbear lunged.

With a guttural roar, he grappled Gatz, slammed him down, and hogtied him neatly with Hank’s rope in full view of the bazaar.

The party didn’t intervene.

Barluk crossed his arms. Hank smirked. Altoid squeaked once, judgmental. Doug leaned in close. “Wererats. Where?”

The bugbear grinned.

“Don’t know where. But they’re here. On this floor.”

That was enough.

The guards, watching the fiasco unfold, snapped. With a weary groan, one shoved a pouch of coins forward.

“Thirty gold. Take him — and get out of our sight.”

No one argued.

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⚔️ Spoils of the Bugbear Ambush

Loot from the bugbear corpses:

• 80 gold

• 10 spears

• 3 morningstars

Combined with the guards’ bribe, the adventurers left the bazaar heavier in coin, weapons, and infamy.

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📦 Loot & Inventory

• Barluk

• Crown of Accordia (always his)

• 10 spears

• 3 morningstars

• Gatz

• Shackled Bugbear Prisoner (briefly)

• Hogtied in public by said prisoner with Hank’s rope

• Rope: lost (used against him)

• Doug

• Slow spell crippled the bugbears

• 3 bugbear zombies raised mid-fight

• Learned: wererats are on this floor, exact location unknown

• Hank

• Cursed glowing longsword still fused to his hand

• Shackles used on bugbear

• Rope lost (used to bind Gatz)

• Party Gold

• +30 gp (guards’ bribe)

• +80 gp (bugbear loot)

• 110 gp total gained

• Altoid

• Bite-marks in bugbear legs

• Smug squeaks during Gatz’s humiliation

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🔮 Cutaway: The Campfire Smirks

Far behind, the spiderwood fire still crackled in the hall where the adventurers had bargained.

The drow lounged in his hood, eyes glowing faintly, smile sharp as ever. His men passed sour wine, laughter rough.

“You think they’ll actually go after the wererats?” one asked.

The drow’s grin widened.

“They’ll have no choice. The Tower forces every hand.”

Another thug chuckled. “Or maybe the rats will kill them for us.”

The drow tilted his head, watching the flames twist.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps they’ll do what they always do — carve their way through in blood. Either way…” His smile gleamed. “…we get our entertainment.”

The fire popped, embers rising like sparks of fate. Somewhere in the stone above, the Mad Wizard’s laughter echoed.

The wererat quest lingered, a shadow waiting in the dark.

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⚔️ Closing Scene: The King and His Blade

The Bazaar quieted behind them, and the adventurers made camp once more in the Tower’s endless maze.

Barluk sat apart from the others, crown shadowed by the flicker of the hovering orb. In his hands rested Cleave Edge, its obsidian blade still wet with gore. Slowly, methodically, he cleaned it — every stroke of cloth across the jagged steel a ritual of remembrance.

The blood of ten bugbears had christened the sword. The storm he unleashed tonight had shaken stone, shattered bone, and drowned the chamber in red. It was a fury few mortals ever touched.

Barluk bowed his head over the weapon. His voice was low, rumbling like distant thunder.

“War gods… hear me. Let tonight not be the last time. Grant me the fury you poured through me this night. Let me carry it into every battle until this Tower is dust.”

The orb above flickered once, as if in answer. Perhaps the gods had heard. Perhaps the Tower itself was listening.

Either way, the Goliath sat back, Cleave Edge resting across his knees, and whispered once more — half a plea, half a promise:

“It is good to be the king.”