The party woke up from a particularly vivid shared dream to find their coin purses (much) heavier, and a number of magical items in their possession. None of them mentioned this stroke of luck, preferring not to question the generosity of the gods.
Morak and Harold were nowhere to be found, but, by a stroke of luck, a weary traveller had arrived at the inn that morning - a thief named Mordy - who chose to join the rich looking adventurers in their quest without hesitation.
They started the day by finding a place to hide the sacks of gold that had magically appeared overnight and remained unquestioned. A small underground stream exit was found to be suitable and many, many gold pieces were left in the safekeeping of some nameless but benevolent water god, along with a worthless longsword.
Returning to town, they petitioned the local holy men for what aid they might provide, and acquired a healing potion and some holy water. The smith’s attempts to build the flamethrower had met with failure, but he promised to attempt it a second time. The two magic users exchanged spellbooks for a time, and it was soon nightfall again.
In the morning the group reunited with the three Riks: Erik, Jorik and Rik. Turmerik, the last surviving mercenary remained behind. The three Riks noticed a difference in the quality of equipment the adventurers carried and demanded a pay rise, which was granted. It did them little good in the end.
Beset by rats (yes, giant rats) and a ghoul, the party managed to steal the contents of the tomb of King Ulrik I, but not before: awakening a pair of guardian statues, smashing them to pieces, along with everything else in the tomb, but not before they could kill two of the Riks; killing the third Rik themselves (for good measure); and burning the king’s corpse, as well as that of the poor broken adventurer they had found there. The reward: a heap of gold, a magical war hammer, a ceremonial longsword and plate armour, and a golden crowned helm that they were expressly told not to touch.
Taking their loot back to town, Charles headed straight to Gunthrik to tell him all about the naughty things they’d been doing in the tomb he held sacred, and Gunthrik proceeded to interrogate them (yet more cries of “sacrilege”), during which the last Rik abandoned his post. Things looked like the might have got nasty, had Tom not managed a reasonable lie, aided by Mordy’s plan to hide the helm they weren’t supposed to have touched, let alone stolen, and persuaded the warrior priest that they’d found the tomb like that, honest. Gunthrik bought it, but remained suspicious of the party. The party vowed to never let Charles speak to important people again.