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I thought it couldn't hurt to post a list of all the written material I have typed up for Carrion Crown (in both my campaigns) with the hopes that some of it might see some altered use by someone else in the future. Otherwise it's going to go to waste.
A lot of the credits for stuff in these writings go to people on these boards. Rakshaka, Evil Paul, and so on. I'm also going to repost my proposed changes to Broken Moon and maybe to the earlier parts of the adventure path that I made to try and challenge the hurdle of min-maxers and a larger than usual group. So from here on out it's all spoilers.
Thrushmoor, Ustalav
The hulking carriage rattled its way through the heavy mud on the unbuilt road. The woman inside, her dark hair bound up and behind her head, and wearing riding leathers peered out into the night and caught glimpses of the rolling empty countryside composed largely of moors and twisted trees surrounded with thick rolling mist. Some would likely call her simply a 'girl' being in her late teenage years. She was attractive and had features more akin to fine living as opposed to the rough and haggard pallor of those who toiled in the fields around Thrushmoor.
The young woman turned her sharp green eyes on the other man on the carriage. He was bound up in a thick black travelling cloak and his eyes, very similar to hers, were cast down at the floor of the carriage. His face was rough and lined, hardened by years on the road and the intense stress of his work. A thick gray mustache and goatee curled around his lips and chin.
She pulled her own cloak close and spoke softly to him, "Did you say that this family was a friend of yours father?"
The older man spoke softly, his voice tired and his eyes never deviating from whatever distant memory arrested him, "Indeed. The Rockmartin family have long been friends of our own. I attended university with the patriarch. He was something of a fool, but of course in those days so was I." The memory seemed to bring a rare smile to his lips.
The young woman nodded and sat back into her seat. She was still surprised that her father had come to the University, where she had been deep in her studies, and called on her to accompany him on one of his special assignments. He had also hired a man, called only Christopher and introduced to her briefly, to both be their coachman and security.
She toyed briefly with the hem of her shirt and said, "What are you investigating there?"
The old man's pale green eyes turned on her and he seemed to awaken from the haze of his thoughts, "Oh, I'm sorry my dear. It would seem that my old friend Bartholemew believes his wife's mother to be possessed by an unrested spirit. We are going to exorcize it if need be."
Kendra sat back, pale, and circled her heart with a warding sign of Pharasma.
The carriage rolled to a stop shortly after leaving the familiar softness of the muddy road for a cobblestone drive. Her father, bent from age and clutching to his cane, climbed down from the wagon. He looked up to the young man in the carriage seat and offered a nod as Kendra hopped out after him.
The Rockmartin House was a true manse. It put the small home her father kept in Ravengro to some shame in terms of opulence. It was seemed to have once been a fort, with three separate wings. Only the central hall was lit with any kind of lit torch or candle. The central wing towered at the three floors and the moored grounds spread out in every direction.
As they arrived a group of men, mostly grooms and butlers but lead by a very large rotund man dressed in finery his face red with exertion and framed with terror and worry as he spoke hurriedly, "Oh dear, Petros my friend, I am afraid that things have grown much much worse since our last letter. Thenia has been speaking in a tongue I do not recognize and when she does speak Varisian she screams the most horrible things."
The older man nodded to Christopher again and muttered, "My friend, see to the carriage and the horses."
Petros turned to his old friend and managed a smile again, "Sounds serious Barty. Don't grow overly concerned though my friend. I think I can help you. This is my daughter Kendra."
Bartholemew looked at her as if seeing her for the first time and raised his eyebrows, "Oh my dear I am so sorry, where are my manners? I am Viscount Bartholemew Rockmartin." He hurriedly bowed to her and kissed her hand.
Kendra blushed and curtsied, "Honored m'lord."
Bartholemew lead the way up the walk to the large iron bound wooden doors of the manse. Kendra followed in her father's wake, carrying his heavy pack. She glanced upward to the ghoulish gargoyles that adorned the top of the old fort briefly before hurrying inside.
As they entered she could hear the intense screams of a woman's voice faintly coming from upstairs. Servants stood around quietly, holding small torches, their faces stark and pale in the flickering light.
Bartholemew lead the way upstairs and down the hall. All the way the sounds of the screams grew louder and more intense. Finally, Petros stopped and put his hand on Kendra's shoulder, "My dear please wait here." He fished a black steel dagger from the bag and pressed it into her hand, "If the spirit somehow escapes into me and tries to leave this room, then strike me down."
Kendra was aghast her face going immediately pale. He gave her a reassuring smile and another pat on the shoulder, "Just a precaution my dear. Just a precaution."
She was left standing quietly, the dagger loosely in her hand as the old man pushed his way into the room and disappeared, the screaming briefly intensifying when he entered.
The screaming continued but now it was joined by the voice of her father. Gone was the kindess and gentle attitudes of the old scholar. This was the voice of a much younger man, booming with authority.
He seemed to be questioning the spirit and receiving answers but try as she might she could only hear snippets of the conversation.
Finally the spirit let out one last bellow of defiance and she could hear every word clearly, "Soon Petros Lorrimor, the Tyrant will walk among you again. All the world will be awash in whispers and all your efforts will be for naught."
By all accounts, the deed was done. The Rockmartin's allowed her father to rest and recover in the west wing. Despite the victory he seemed in dark spirits and withdrawn. He continually muttered darkly and looked out onto the moors around the estate talking only of, 'Whispers,' and, 'Tyrants'.
4711
You sit in the prow of the ferry as it cuts lazily across the choppy blue waters of Lake Isia.
Dantes, the captain of the ferry calls out directions to his son and holds tight to the till with a bright smile on his face, “A great day to cross Isia!”
You glance at the steel gray overcast sky and give the smiling captain a dubious look. Several of the other passengers seem to mirror your expression. Ignoring the captain as he started rattling on about the beauties of the Lake you pull a piece of parchment from your bag.
Once again you can't believe what you're reading, Professor Lorrimor is dead.
There were few supernatural investigators more adept than Petros Lorrimor. A former Professor at the famous University at Lepidstadt, Petros had travelled throughout the Inner Sea region using his keen skills of deduction to solve crimes, put spirits to rest, and when all else failed hiring adventurers to face monstrous threats.
That is how the two of you had become acquainted. You had known few souls as devoted or good as the Professor... and now you were on your way to the man's funeral.
You were snapped out of your memories when Dantes echoed your thoughts, “I'm afraid that you all come at a sad time I'm afraid. A scant week ago we lost a great man who called Ravengro his home.”
As he mentioned the town you drifted through a bank of chill mist, typical of the month of Lamashan, and caught sight of the rolling hills where the lights of the town flickered in the murky morning light. The town seemed small but strangely forboding with it's small stone buildings and dull gray slate roofs. Dantes brought you around again when said, “Professor Lorrimor, he will be missed.”
You mused quietly lifting the invitation in your hand, “I am here for the funeral.”
Several of the other passengers looked at you and nodded several echoing their assent.
The boat clunked against the dock. Dantes gathered his ropes and nodded as he made his way to the prow of the ship, “I'll accompany you. Old Petros and I would often have a hot cider at the Laughing Demon. He was a good man, Pharasma keep him, I'll see you to his house.”
With that the ferryman and his son gathered their things and led you down the cobbled road toward the town.
Ustalav
Sheriff Cullers let out a sigh of frustration and swirled the mug of Zokar's 'Soul Brew' cider. The owner of the Laughing Demon stood quietly behind the bar nursing his own drink.
The large barman finally broke the silence, "Heard you drug old Gibs into the jail this morning."
Cullers nodded and sighed, "The man incited a mob. I thought for sure when he settled here after service that an old campaigner like him could only make Ravengro more safe..."
Zokar gave the young law man a sympathetic clip on the shoulder, "What about those strangers? Less than a day and the gossip mill is already buzzing about them. I have to say I was impressed with how they handled that mob without an ounce of blood shed."
One of the deputies, Jenna, pushed her way in through the doors of the inn and walked up beside her boss. She was wearing a blue and gold coat over her chain mail shirt to stave off the encroaching chill of night, "Did you hear chief?"
Cullers looked at her and raised an eyebrow, "What's that Jen?"
She managed an impish grin and leaned against the bar eager to share her secret, "I was in Jominda's a few minutes ago and she said that the word around town is that a group of kids saw those travelers headed up to the prison."
The young Sheriff cursed under his breath and looked out the door of the inn and into the growing gloom of the small town, "Now what are they doing up at that old place? They told me that they were down at the Temple last night as well."
The deputy mouthed the word 'cider' to Zokar and received a gruff response, "Dragon's Blood?"
She shook her head and turned back to the Sheriff, "You think we can get out to the Sarsky place before it gets too dark? Old Man Sarsky says a number of his goats have gone missing."
Culler grabbed up his hat and grumbled, "Sure, we can check in with Jominda on the way."
Ustalav
The sheriff stood at the edge of Old Man Yarrick's grave watching the strangers leave the graveyard. He let out a pained sigh and looked at his two deputies. Both of them looked shaken and pale.
Klys looked into his eyes and muttered, "Vanar protect us. Whats going on chief?"
Cullers pulled off his hat and swiped back his hair as he walked away from the grave, "I don't know guys. I didn't tell you but Jen and I went out looking for lost goats earlier today. We found them half eaten and torn apart."
Emir, his features dark and shadowed by the lack of moonlight, muttered a curse and said, "You think it was the same thing? I mean it's dead now right?"
Sheriff Cullers led the way as the young priest who had met them led several others as they dragged the corpse up the road back toward it's grave, "I don't think so guys. Geography is all wrong. I think there is more than one of these things up and about."
He looked back into the two men's faces and saw that if possible they were even more afraid than before, "Keep it under your hats guys."
----------------
22nd of Lamashan
Village of Ravengro
Ustalav
Sheriff Cullers nodded absently through the questioning of the Inquisitor. He answered each quickly and woodenly.
The direct questions, and the obvious focus slowly terrified him.
When the Inquisitor left he grabbed his coat and hat and followed quickly setting out onto the street and north. The inquisitor was fuming and the young sheriff knew that Jo, with her fiery disposition, would only get herself into trouble.
He arrived from the alley to see the group of strangers emerge from Jominda's shop. They appeared angry but turned and started heading south, back toward the Lorrimor House.
Ben straightened his jacket against the mist and chill of the morning and walked up the steps to the Apothecary. He pushed his way inside to see Jominda, behind her counter, her face twisted with anger and defiance, "Damn you Cullers. I don't have time for your accusations. One of those damn strangers just threatened me in my own shop."
He stopped in his tracks and sighed, "Are you alright Jo?"
The young woman narrowed her eyes at him and muttered, "I'll be fine. Why do you ask?"
Cullers' face hardened and he moved further into her shop scanning the trays and jars of ingredients, "I'm interested in protecting the people in this town, that just happens to include you."
Jominda slumped down behind her counter and into a chair cursing with her eyes down, "They were talking about ghosts. They said the prison was a huge danger to the town. He said if I didn't help him everyone here was going to die."
He stepped forward and reached out to touch her shoulder trying to quell his anger, "That's not true Jo."
She looked up sharply causing him to withdraw his hand, "I won't be pushed around in my shop Ben. That goes for you too."
Sheriff Cullers smiled and pulled his hat back on, "I'll have a talk with them when they get back to town."
He opened the door to the shop and paused, looking back at her, "Jo... Don't go out after night fall. Ok?"
Village of Ravengro, Ustalav
Sheriff Cullers watched the group of stranger head south on the road to the old prison. He was conflicted about the obvious strength and help that the group was providing to the prison and their borderline criminal treatment of Jominda at her shop.
He pulled his old wide brimmed hat back onto his head and set off up the road at a quick pace. Two of the councillors had outright suggested banishing the strangers from the town and handling the terrible events in the town internally. Verdana and Straelock were, as usual, were quick to oppose that suggestion and raised the suggestion of the town meeting.
Cullers wasn't sure where he came down in the argument. He despised them for what they had done to Jominda but he also felt that they were the town's only hope.
Klys jogged down the dusty cobblestone road toward him, his breath coming out in great gusts in the cold morning air, "Hey chief. Good news. Old man Jacovi says he might have caught sight of he person who has been marking up the old monument at night. He wants to talk to you though."
Cullers sighed and clapped the young deputy on the soldier. The blonde haired youth had taken to wearing an old chain shirt of his fathers in recent days. He wore a symbol of Vanir on his chest. He had even seen the younger man practicing swordplay with Emir after their shifts were over. Night time ciders at The Laughing Demon had seemingly been completely forgotten.
They made their way up the hill to the end of Feder Jacovi's estate and met the older man standing with Emir. The farmer was enthusiastically discussing something about farming with the younger man, and Emir thoroughly disinterested in such things was doing a phenomenal job of humoring him, "Grubs you say? How are you going to get rid of them?"
Jacovi spit on the ground in passing and muttered, "Stop off at Jomindas and pick up a simple salt based concoction or so. People talk a lot of s$#% about that young lass but she damn well knows her way around getting rid of pest infestations."
He looked up as the sheriff joined them and nodded, "Sheriff. How are ya?"
Ben removed his hat respectfully and returned the nod, "Doing alright Feder. What's this I hear about you catching sight of our wily graffiti artist last night?"
Jacovi nodded and gestured toward the path to his house setting them all to walking, "Seen some body out in the mist old night. Looked like the fool was wearing a damned night gown. He comes out of the river up here completely naked and pulls back on his robe.. starts running north up the edge of the river. I thought it was odd so I caught young Klys and had him run off to find you at first light."
The group reached the slow moving and shallow river and Ben moved forward slowly, looking at the bare footprints in the fresh mud. They were definitey a man's but beyond that he couldn't find anything to identify him."
The tracks indeed led north and he looked over his shoulder, "Klys come with me. Emir walk Feder back up to his property and then head back to the jail." He glanced at the old farmer and nodded, "Thanks Feder. You've been a lot of help. We'll track this bastard down."
The old man nodded and set off with Emir, once again picking up his conversation about slugs.
The sheriff lead his way up river into a part of town that housed even more farmers. After a couple hundred meters, however, he lost the tracks to the dense underbrush. With Klys in tow the two of them checked the area three times looking for any sign of the lost tracks. Finally the sheriff kicked a stone in frustration, "To the seven hells with this damned bastard."
Klys looked just as frustrated and turned to the older man with a raised eyebrow, "How many people in town know how to cover their tracks this well?"
Cullers paused in his tracks and turned back to him with a look of surprise on his face, "I didn't think of that. Let's head back we'll ask around and see what the folks in town know."
Klys nodded and slid his short sword back into it's scabbard, "What if the guy gets wind of what we're asking?"
The sheriff made his way back down the bank toward town, "Then we'll scare him up and out of hiding or the damned bastard will make a run for it. Either way... we're done with him."
-
25th Day of Lamashan, 4711 AR
Village of Ravengro, Ustalav (Evening)
Sheriff Cullers stood on the open porch of the town hall looking out into the darkening street with a mask of concern on his face. Between himself and the deputies they had not been able to locate a single person, who didn't have an alibi, in town that had the kind of skills it took to try and throw a trail like the man who had been defacing the monument.
Finally they had all resolved to ask the entire town, or those who showed up, at the town meeting if they knew anyone with such skills. Perhaps the strangers had encountered someone like that.
He managed a small smile as he saw Jominda walking up to the town hall and tipped his hat to her, "Jo, how are you miss?"
She eyed him skeptically and pulled a knitted shawl around her shoulders to dispel the chill, "Ben... how goes the investigation? Have you turned up what's actually happening?"
He was a bit taken back by the question and shook his head, "I know that you don't want to hear it but those outsiders are up at the prison.. should be headed back right now. They might be able to help us, or else I would have thrown them out of town by now."
She nodded and sighed, "I guess if we need to make a deal with thugs to make sure the town is safe its a small price to pay. I hope the meeting goes well."
Cullers eyed her and tried to hide his brief disappointment, "You're not gonna sit in?"
Jominda shook her head and smiled at him, "Come find me later and we'll have a drink. I don't want to be around those people. I haven't quite calmed down from yesterday."
The sheriff sighed and nodded then eyed her with a smile, "Laughing Demon around nine?"
She flashed him a quick smile and lowered her eyes, "I'll see you there."
Jominda disappeared into the misty night and Cullers turned back to the town hall doors. A number of locals had already gone in and he could see even more coming from up the street.
Finally the outlines of the strangers, so distinctive in comparison to the rest of the villagers appeared out of the fog making their way toward the bustling town hall.
"Here we go," he muttered as he moved out to greet them.
28th of Lamashan 4117 AR
Canterwall Province, Ustalav
Village of Ravengro
9:00 AM
Sheriff Cullers nailed the last board into place and brushed off his hands. He stood and surveyed the square. Men and women who didn't know the business end of a sword were wearing loaned armor from the forge or ancient old suits they had scrounged from their attic. He managed a sad smile as he wondered if some of it had seen the light of day since the Shining Crusade.
Around the entrances to the square they had erected barricades. In order to construct it they had torn down and chopped up the old gazebo at the center of the square. He spied Jominda amongst a group of the women arranging a number of bottles into groups. He shuffled off of the porch of the town hall and toward the small gathering.
Half way there he was intercepted by Klys, the young deputy, who looked terrified and nervous with a number of old spears over his shoulder, “Boss? Boss? Where do I take these damned things?”
The Sheriff gave him a weak smile and shook his head as he answered. Take them over to the Laughing Demon. They are simple enough weapons, and if thats about the best they can handle.” Klys set off like a shot, nearly dropping several of the spears but stopped in his tracks when the sheriff called after him, “Klys!”
The young man paused and turned back and Cullers smiled as he spoke, “You're gonna be alright kid. Calm down.”
Klys nodded sharply and took off at a slower pace.
Cullers reached the circle of frumpy older women to hear Jominda reassure them, “These are all the potions I have ladies. You just toss these,” she gestured at a group of dust covered bottles, “and the things will be burned with acid.” She lifted another bottle from smaller group and grimaced, “Don't toss these anywhere near a building. It's persistent fire but it will spread. Use it on big groups of the creatures if you can.”
The women shuffled forward in turn, each taking one of the bottles from each group. In turn they thanked the young woman for her potions. Some of them looking sheepish or guilty as they did so. Cullers guessed that these were the rumor mongers who so hounded Jo and made her feel unwelcome.
As they dispersed he walked up with a smile and a blush, “Morning Jo.”
She looked at him with a wide smile and a blush of her own, “Ben.”
An awkward silence passed between them before he said, “I'm glad we got to have that drink.”
The young alchemist smiled and looked down, “Yeah, me too.”
Ben slid off his hat and held it in his hands nervously, a habit he couldn't seem to break and said, “Look Jo...”
He was interrupted as a cacophonous boom echoed from the direction of the prison. There came a great wail and the windows of the distant prison blazed a distinct blue. Thunder echoed through the clouds above and it seemed he could hear a faint wail fading from the prison as the light started to fade.
The sheriff sighed and slid his hat back on, “Looks like whatever they are doing is working. Better gather everyone up into the square if we can.”
He gave her a reassuring smile and walked over to the town hall where an old bell had been hung. Grabbing the rope he sounded it rapidly raising the alarm.
The streets of Ravengro echoed with the sound of ringing bells.
-
11:30 AM
Cullers looked down the cobbled street and wiped the mixture of blood and soot from his forehead. Several steady plumes of black smoke rose from throughout the small town. He could tell that some of the heaviest fighting must be happening at the Temple of Pharasma. The street was teeming with the ranks of shambling dead. He even saw faces he recognized, men and women he knew from his years living in the small town.
One of them clambered over the barricade and he rolled under it's lunging arms, drawing his short sword across it's stomach and spilling the contents onto the street. Another came just after it and a spear drove into it's chest. Emir reached out and helped him up, “Alright there boss?”
The sheriff stumbled away from the barricade and cursed, “Who knew so many people have died in this town.”
Zokar, heavy set and in his banded mail armor and weilding a deadly looking metal tankard in his hand, yelled from across the square and pointed at the rooftops, “Ben, incoming!”
Cullers looked up to see a small gang of fast moving slender figures scrabbling over the rooftops into the square moving much faster than the others. He looked up at Emir and pointed at the barricade, “Hold here!” Running across the square he pulled a small bow as he moved and let fly with an arrow at the leading creature.
The arrow thunked into it's side and it nearly lost it's footing but with the tirelessness of undeath it rushed on. Ben cursed as he saw them heading for the town hall. He fired again and again as he rushed across the square finally causing the leading beast to tumble from the roof and onto the ground. Calling out he stowed his bow and drew his sword as he called out, “Klys, help me at the town hall!”
One of the monsters leaped from the opposite roof toward the town hall aimed for one of the windows. Cullers screamed as the creature burst through the window, “NO!”
He was surprised when the monster was blasted back out of the window covered in flames. The three other monsters on the roof gave pause when they saw their comrade burning to death on the cobblestone street below.
Cullers used the chance to burst through the doors into the town hall. The women of the village huddled in the center with the children. Jominda hefted a globe of fire in her hand, staring intently at the window with determination.
He looked at them and barked an order, “Jo, get the women and kids into the center of the square. Find Klys and protect them. I'll hold them off.”
Jominda brooked no argument and quickly barked an order to the ladies and children, “Now, do what he says!”
Just as they started toward the doors the ghouls found their resolve and started to clamber through the window toward them. Cullers met the first with two blades hammering it's claws away and driving his sword up to the hilt in it's chest.
The things other claw managed to graze his forearm and he could feel the cool numbness of some supernatural malady moving up his arm. Fighting on stabbed, parried drove the creatures back toward the window, even as they surrounded him, flailing with their claws from every direction.
More and more cuts blossomed on his skin, but the ghouls were taking just as much punishment.
The first and second ghoul fell onto the burned town hall floor. Cullers turned to face the last of them but found that his left leg wouldn't answer his call to move. Stumbling to his knees he roared through his teeth to try and force his body back into action.
The ghoul slavered and licked it's claws. It had been a young woman, patches of faded blonde hair still hanging in tufts from it's bared skull. Split and bloody red lips spread into a smile as it advanced on the sheriff and kicked him to the floor.
Ben managed to close his eyes as the creature started to tear him apart. He thought of Jominda and hoped that the town might be saved.
-
At the far end of town a black lacquered carriage pulled to a halt at the gate outside the former estate of Petros Lorrimor.
A pair of black leather boots clattered to the cobblestones followed by the closing of the carriage door. A group of zombies moaned as they shuffled past. Their inhuman dark senses never turning toward the strange dark figure.
The figure made his way through the gate and up to the door. He rapped on it softly and called out, “Kendra my dear? I've come to pay my respects.”
-
31st of Lamashan 4117 AR
Canterwall Province, Ustalav
Village of Ravengro
6:30 PM
Father Grimburrow stood at the front of a large number of villagers. They all held torches in solemn reverence. The towns folk had built small pires for all the victims of the violence three days hence.
Among them were the bodies of Sheriff Benjamin Cullers, who fought valiantly to save the women and children at the expense of his own life. Councilwoman Veldrana, whose carriage was found ransacked and bloody north of town. Emory Zokar and Deputy Jenna Valtra, who were both killed when the sheriff's office was overrun. A number of other dead joined them, but the casualties had been surprisingly light.
The eyes of many villager turned toward the group of men, ratfolk, and dwarf who had fought valiantly to save their town from the escape of whatever darkness laired at the prison. The strangers stood among them gathered at another pyre. What was left of Kendra Lorrimor, the lost Professor's beloved daughter, sat on it's own ready to be burned.
At the foot of the man called Dogan, Old River, the town's old Basset Hound mascot, sat with it's eyes locked on the pyre intently.
Father Grimburrow turned to them as the sky started to darken, “We are gathered here at dusk, the end of another day to remember the lives of those we have lost. Their spiral has ended but they affected us all in so many ways. Many of us here would not be alive to carry on if it had not been for the sacrifices of those we have lost. For that we thank them and the Lady for seeing fit to let us continue on our path. May they find favor at the Judgement of our Lady and be welcomed into paradise.”
“Councilor Hearthmount has also asked that I announce that this day will heretofore be known as the Day of Light. Every year hence we will gather in the square where we made our stand to remember those we have lost and those who valiantly risked their lives to save us. Thank the Lady, and thank those who saved Ravengro,” he finished by turning toward the pyres with his torch.
The town in unison covered or put out their own, leaving the Father's torch the only light. He walked forward in the darkness and began to light the pyres each in turn.
Harrowstone Prison, Ustalav
Canterwall Province
Professor Feramin strolled casually around the empty cellblock in complete darkness. He was the only occupant of the Nevermore wing and, thinking him harmless, the guards rarely deigned to visit him. He paused in his tracks and looked up as the sound of armor echoed down the hall toward the portcullis. A tall mustachioed man in chain mail armor, wearing a grey surcoat with a raven perched on a barren stone hobbled into view attended by two more of the guards, young men from the nearby town.
He did not know their names. The idea, the possibility of not knowing infuriated him. He tightened his lip as the tall leader stopped at the gates and managed a smile, "Feramin, you piece of offal, how fare things in lonely Nevermore."
The slender man, his glasses barely held together and maintained straightened his thick prisoner's smock and made his way toward the distant light provided by their torches, "Gurtis,.. Vortch.. such an unusual name. I have told you that haven't I? An unusual spelling and pronunciation. I am quite certain it's Kellid in nature. It would certainly explain your temperament... and the smell."
Vortch's mocking smile vanished and he leaned against the bars toward the smiling prisoner, "You won't be so mouthy when you take another visit to the rack 'Splatter Man'."
Those words were spoken with particular venom. Vortch knew that Feramin hated the popular moniker and relished the visible twinge in the haughty prisoner when it was spoken. Hean kept his bearing however and shrugged, "Do what you have to do Mr. Vortch.." He trailed off, speaking the individual letters as he wandered away from the bars.
Later, they came for him, dragging him through the secret tunnel in the cellblock that lead to the torture room. The Warden himself was there, observing placidly from the shadows as Vortch explored his body with hot needles, hot brands, and the rack. Feramin stumbled back, hours later but in the middle of the tunnel he fell, grasping and tearing up a clump of moss before the guards could yank him back to his feet.
They lowered him, nearly unconcious down into the oubliette. Feramin managed a weak smile as he carefully wedged out a stone and pulled his many components from the cache. It was with careful, expectant hands as he lit a small fire and started a small potion to brewing in his battered drinking cup.
He whispered the words of a spell, one he had mastered long ago, and waved a hand over the concoction. With another word it lifted up into the air and floated slowly north on and on toward it's intended target.
-
Vance Saetressle, the man that many only knew as the Lopper, lounged in the bottom of his oubliette. He looked up toward the grating that covered it expectantly, a wide almost unnatural grin on his twisted face. As he watched a small item floated down through the bars and slowly began to drop. He reached out a hand and grabbed it with a satisfied grin.
-
Gurtis Vortch, captain of the guards, strolled through the Oubliette cellblock. He casually dragged his heavy black mace across the bars giving the prisoners that looked his way a mockingly sympathetic look.
He paused in mid-stride when he heard a whisper from the iron grating in the floor. His name echoed from the deep hole bouncing up and echoing through the cellblock, "Vortch, you piece of thrice damned offal."
The lopper's voice continued, mocking him, "Your mother is down here. She says that she wants you to join in. I told her I didn't know what a limp cock would do for the situation."
He growled and charged over to the oubliette without thought. He grabbed the handle to lift it and leaned in only to find himself face to face with the leering criminal. Saestressle reached up and grabbed the dagger from his belt, slicing it back and forth on his neck rapidly and raining a fountain of blood down over the cackling murderer.
Using the remaining power of the levitation potion he floated up out of the grate and with the meticulous slices of a master quickly beheaded the now completely dead guard, yanking off his keys he left the headless body there on the cellblock floor and moved to free the other prisoners.
-
When the Lopper reached the gate to the Nevermore he was completely covered in blood and followed by a horde of armed prisoners. He unlocked the portcullis and moved in. In short order the prisoners opened the oubliette and lifted Feramin, his face covered with a smug smile from the deep black hole.
-
Feramin stood at the bottom of the stairwell calling up to the barricade of armed guards that blocked the stairwell. Behind them the Warden, with his thick golden hair and mustache looked ashen as he listened to the former prisoner speak, "I spent a lot of time spelling.. studying your name Lyvar. I spelled your wife's name as well. You both have had a fixed position in my thoughts since we met."
Behind him, the still living guards knelt down, gagged and naked. They were whimpering and shivering in the cold of the deep dungeon and each of them had beaten, abused, and tortured in the two hours since the dungeons fell to them.
The warden cleared his throat and stepped forward, "I will step into those men's place and serve as prisoner if you will let them go free."
Feramin giggled and clapped his hands together beckoning him down as he chuckled his response, "Warden, you have just made me the happiest man on earth. Come on down!"
-
Vesorianna looked across the fully set kitchen table and crossed her arms. The guards have come down from the prison that morning and rushed her husband in to work due to a 'crisis' of some kind and she had not seen him all day. Today was supposed to have been one of his few days off. It came laden with all manner of promises and sweet words that his work would not be so all-consuming and that they would be spending much more time together.
She huffed angrily and stood, grabbing her shawl from the hook and make her way out of the house. As usual, fall in southern Ustalav was unforgivingly cold. The night sky was clear and filled with stars. She was surprised to see none of the guards patrolling the yard. In a huff she made her way up to the prison and made her way through the front door.
Through the open doors past the foyer she could see a huge crowd of guards gathered around the stairwell. She paused in the foyer and watched them until one of the guards, a young handsome boy named Hephenus rushed over and lightly touched her shoulder, "Mrs. Hawkran, you shouldn't be here. There's a situation."
She narrowed her steel grey eyes at him and then looked over his shoulder at the gathered guards, "Sgt. Hephenus, I want to talk to my husband."
He looked back toward the group of guards and shook his head, "Ok.. ma'am your the Warden is down below. I'm afraid there has been a riot. Some of the other guys were taken prisoner and he offered himself as an exchange to get some of them released."
Her face grew darker and darker with each word and her eyes widened quickly. She paused briefly after the news and narrowed them darkly at the young man, "Send your men in. Save my husband. Kill them to the man if you have to!"
Hephenus shook his head and pointed back toward the doorway out of the prison, "Mrs. Hawkran the guards are handling this. We are doing everything we can to get your husband out of there."
Hephanus made his way back to the gathered guards, sure that he had ushered the worried Lady Hawkran back out of the prison.
She paused standing in the foyer feeling the light breeze from outside and turned to the left instead. Holding up her dress she hurried through the room of judgement, cool and empty with no guards to inhabit it burst into the training room. It too was dark, the many training dummys standing guard, motionless and imposing in the large room.
Rushing over to the lift set in the northern floor, desperate to do something to save her husband she grabbed the lift controls and yanked them into the down position. Made to be lowered slowly, the heavy iron lift dropped like a stone deep into the dungeon crashing violently to the ground and echoing throughout the prison.
It didn't take long for the guards to arrive. They grabbed her around the arms and dragged the grieving and terrified woman through the prison. She called out for her husband long after they threw her into the work room and locked her inside.
-
The sound of the falling lift brought Feramin and the Lopper rushing from the torture room. They left the bloody and mangled remains of the warden strapped to the rack. They did all they could to keep him alive throughout the torture, but neither of them were experts on keeping someone alive, being so much better versed in murder.
Feramin rushed back up to the stairwell and yelled up toward the guards, "What was that Hephanus?! What are you up to?"
One of the prisoners, an aged grey haired man, bent and twisted by years in his cell rushed up and pointed toward the Hell's Basement wing, "They dropped the lift Professor. They are up to somethin I know it!"
Without pause there was a terrible crash from above. The room shook and immediately filled with a cloud of dust that spread throughout the dark room obscuring vision. Screams erupted from the east as Feramin stumbled through the dark.
Several men screamed, 'Fire!" He could not find his way out of the smoke and stumbled fully into the rushing flames.
The terrible pain scourged him and fire swept over him as he ran fully away from it batting at his clothes and body to stop the pain. Panting and blurry eyed from the pain he ran back toward his cellblock, trying to get away from the spreading smoke.
Delirious, he rushed back into the cellblock tripping over the body of one of the murdered guards. Rolling over and back to his feet he finally smothered the last of the fire on his charred body. Stumbling past the portcullis and into the familiar dank and empty Nevermore Feramin turned and looked back the way he came trying to catch sight of the fire. Backpedaling he stumbled back into the outbliette. The plotting murderer collided with the cobbled bottom of the oubliette and died instantly.
-
The Lopper stumbled through the smoke and fell onto the charred body of one of the prisoners. His hands sought out a rope on the man's shoulder and a smile, broken only as he coughed violently, spread over his face.
Wrestling the rope of of the man he ran from the smoke and flames and easily made his way back to his cellblock. Tying the rope expertly to the metal, chuckling at how cleverly he had managed to avoid the fire and perhaps still manage escape he tied off the rope to the grating and slid down back into the deep hole.
Straesessle gave Gurtis Vortch's skull a light pat and smiled as he settled in, waiting for the fire to pass.
-
Above Vesorianna Hawkran was the first to succumb to the rising smoke from the fire below. The neglectful guards left her to her fate when they chose to escape their choice to kill all the prisoners rather than negotiate the release of their comrades.
Far above, on the second floor, men waiting to meet the scyhe of the headsman choked slowly and died from inhalation as well. Among them, the infamous Piper of Illmarsh and the despised Father Charlatan.
No matter how long the suffocating prisoners screamed and called for help none came. By the time the guards returned with help from town, hoping to stop the blaze they had all perished horribly.
-
Long after the fire had passed and the search for survivors had lapsed the Lopper awakened in his deep outbliette cradling the bloody skull of Gurtis Vortch. He picked it up and looked into the eyes with a smile, "What do you say Gurty? Think it's safe?"
Receiving some ephemeral response the Lopper nodded and smiled, "Me too!"
Giggling he hopped up and grabbed the hanging rope. Bracing himself he climbed up the rope slowly scaling toward the grating above and whistling a tune. It was not until he had reached the iron bars that he noted that the fire that had killed his comrade had also compromised the rope.
The rope frayed and broke in an instant even as he reached for the bars to save himself but alas the murderer fell back into the oubliette and broke his legs on impact.
Huffing breath through intense pain the madman lifted the skull of fellow occupant and spat blood into it's face, "Gurty! Why didn't you tell me about that?!"
The Lopper giggled until his voice went hoarse. Days passed and finally silence reigned over the old prison. It would remain much that way for fifty years to come.
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(Courtesy of an Idea from Evil Paul)
28th Day of Lamashan
Dipplemere Swamp
2:00 AM
Four figures in black stood quietly around a fifth. Each of the standing figures is wrapped in thick yellow robes, their faces covered with thick scarves to ward of the chill of waning Lamashan. They stood in a moonlit clearing up to mid-calf in swampy water around the sobbing form of a woman
The small woman cried uncontrollably and the faint light filtering through the dark grey clouds illuminated her head and face deformed to small size from birth. Her tears flowed as she begged, “Stop, you’re hurting me! Why are you doing this?”
One of the men, very tall with shining red eyes wearing a skull helm and armor crafted out of bone did not deign to reveal his face as he gestured to a nearby tree twisted by the swamp and bereft of leaves by the season, “Ahh a sturdy oak. This tree should suffice. Tie the freak to the trunk.”
Another man spoke up and tugged down his scarf to reveal a thin pale face with a curling white moustache speaking in a gravelly whisper, “As you command Master Vrood.”
As the man grabbed her arm, in tandem with another the small woman let out a whimper trying to struggle against them, “No! Let me go! What do you want?”
The man helping to lift up the woman and tie her, his long black hair flowing from beneath his hood and down his chest, croaked at her angrily, “Silence b$!&~!” He casually backhanded the small woman and drew blood on her cheek from a cruel angular skull ring on his right hand.
The two men worked to tie up the tiny woman while she struggled, crying and kicking her legs screaming in pain as she tried to wriggle her arms out of the coarse rope. As she tried futilely to escape the final member of her attackers stepped forward pulling down her scarf to reveal ruby red lips and pale skin and leaned in close to the small woman whispering something quickly.
The tiny women cried and instantly stopped struggling shaking with sobs and whimpering as the woman stepped away. Behind them, the man in bone armor watched on, crossing his arms with an unseen smile. Above, a small raven came to roost at the top of the tree and looked on intently.
The moustached man turned to him and said, “It is done master.”
Vrood pulled down his own scarf and nodded as he spoke, “Very good. And now we will observe. See as she shakes against her bonds.” He pointed directly at the small woman’s body and continued, “Watch carefully the fear within her eyes. Yes, little freak, I know you can hear me. See now, the hatred in her twisted tiny head. You see my acolytes, you see all her feelings like a fish through clear waters. This, THIS, is what we have come tonight to harvest. Not the pathetic twisted body that traps her spirit.”
The small woman whimpered and shook her head, “Please... please don’t hurt me... I’ve not done anything to you. I don’t even know who you are!”
The robed woman’s lips spread into a thick red smile, “Hush child. Let the master speak. You should listen to his words.”
The moustached man turned his pale exhalted face to the heavens and roared in fervor, “Hail to the master!”
Vrood smiled at his acolyte and stepped forward eager to answer her question, “Who we are? Why we are the inheritors. We are the keepers of power. We are those without dogma, without shackles. Those that know what must be done, and have the will to do it.”
Vrood reached into his robes with thin bone white fingers and drew out a large glass vial etched with skulls and runes. Inside the vial a green swirling gas can be seen. The gas twists and billows in a way that makes it seem almost alive, and for an instant the tortured face of a man swims into view.
The tiny woman found herself instantly drawn to the strange vial despite the terrible danger, “What... what is that?”
The long dark haired man pulled back his hood and snarled at the woman, “Silence freak! That is none of your concern. Master, you promised me knowledge of the ingredient. My brother and I have served you well.”
Vrood smiled and handled the vial carefully turning his red eyes on the dark haired man, “Yes Amadeus, and you shall have your reward.”
Vrood unscrewed the runed cap a tiny notch and brought the vial to his nose, inhaling just a whisper of the vapours within, quickly sealing the cap afterwards. The effect is striking, his red eyes flash green, and he convulses, dropping to one knee in coughing fit, before recovering and rising again.
The mustached man rushed forward to his master’s side and whispered to him, “Are you alright master?”
Vrood answered his voice deeper and seemingly tight with pain, “Yes Luramin, Yes! The power is immense and this is just the beginning! The power that we will control after the ritual is finished... is beyond even what our lord suggested. Come forth Amadeus and receive your reward!”
Amadeus pushed back his hood to reveal his long dark hair and once handsome face scarred with a single blades cut from eye to chin.
The tiny woman, Aleece, watched on in horror as the tall man with red eyes grabbed the back of Amadeus’ head and turned it aside, whispering something into his ear. As she watched a faint green light passed from his lips and into the acolyte’s ear.
Amadeus fell to his knees in the mud and water of the swamp, oblivious to the aching cold, “Such a gift.”
Vrood gave the man a cold thin smile and looked to the others, “Rise my servant. There will be more such rewards, for you and for us all. Ours is the moment, and now we must begin the sacrifice.”
Aleece looked to him sharply and her tears began to pour down her cheeks anew as she whimpered, “No, please... please let me go.”
Vrood’s red eyes snapped sharply from the tiny woman to the shadows behind her and he smiled, “You shall have your meal. We shall harvest the spirit as you promised. Do not cross us creature.”
Aleece tensed and shook her head as the sound of movement in the water behind her reached her ears.
The robed cultists moved away and watched and Vrood offered a parting suggestion to the unseen creature, “Feel free to toy with her a little.”
As Aleece screamed nearby Vrood watched impassively. The female cultist joined him with a cool smile, “What next master? I yearn for the future.”
Vrood answered softly his eyes turning to the north, “Our Way grows stronger by another powerful spirit this night. We must travel north to Lepidstadt this night. The details are crucial so they must be kept to whispers.”
Amadeus looked up sharply and then gestured toward the small woman, whose screams had reached a fevered pitch, and muttered darkly, “Go forth with Brunhylda, Master. I will stay here and shackle this freak’s spirit to my will. My brother and I have strong steeds. We will catch up to you in short order.”
Vrood nodded and walked back toward their horses with Brunhylda in tow, “Very good. Ride, ride, and ride thrice then, we are done here.”
As they parted they all spoke in a whispered chant, “Benedictus mortis perpetuum.”
Amadeus and Luramin had to stand watch for nearly an hour more as Aleece’s screams finally faded into a hoarse whisper. As the small woman finally died the raven above gave a satisfied, “Caw!” and flew away.
Lepidstadt University
City of Lepidstadt, Vieland
The skies over Lepidstadt University ricocheted with flashes of purple lightning illuminating the empty quads and ancient buildings with each vibrant flash. Two men hurried down the path toward one of the university's many towers wearing heavy seal-skin cloaks but nonetheless cursing the terrible weather and the terrible damp of the spring rains.
The two of them burst through the doors of the tower and one of the young men called out, "Alpon! Where the devil are you man?"
At the top of a circular metal stairwell a figure in a full bodied buttoned up white coat appeared, his eyes obscured by darkened black goggles and his hair a shock of uncontrolled ink stabbing up into the air, "Where in the seven hells have you two been? You know this experiment is all well and good but without spellcasting my alchemy can only go so far."
One of the men pulled back his hood to reveal his own dark slickly sculpted black hair and youthful face split with a mischievious grin and bright green eyes, "Adivion was trying to work up the courage to talk to 'her' again."
The other man removed his hood, barely containing a sneer. His features were finely sculpted and his bearing noble as he muttered, "Damn you Petros."
Alpon started to speak again gesturing behind him wildly, "Well the experiment is ready for..." He paused in mid-sentence and leaned over the railing expectantly, "Oh, wait! What did she say?"
Petros pulled his thick gloves from his hands as he climbed the stairs, "Of course he failed to rise to the occassion again. Of course."
Adivion brushed past them both at the top of the stairs and Petros added, "I keep telling him that Elsbeth Daramid is far too wrapped up in her legal studies to let any man slither into her bedchamber, much less a wealthy richman's son like him."
Adivion surveyed the equipment in the lab as he answered them, "You two have no place to talk. Alpon, when is the last time you said more than one word to Emma?" Alpon blushed and turned away walking to survey a number of large bottles bubbling with brightly colored liquid as Adivion finished, "and Petros you may as well be called 'The Whore of Lepidstadt University' due to the sheer number of young co-eds you have left in your wake."
Petros shook his head and smiled as he retorted, "Adivion, you ever cut to the quick."
Alpon interrupted them and gestured to a large table where a heavy sheet had been used to cover a small form, "Work gentlemen?"
Both of them gave a wary look to the heavy sheet, and whatever lay strapped to the table beneath it and Adivion muttered, "Are you absolutely certain this is legal Alpon? I am all for getting exemplary marks but this seems a bit far even for a university experiment."
Petros put an arm around his friend's shoulder and smiled, "Of course my boy. You are completely aware that young Alpon here is in line to be the Count of Vieland?"
Adivion glanced upward as another stroke of lightning illuminated the hole in the ceiling where a steady stream of water rushed through and onto the cobbled floor, "Yes, my dear Petros, but we are not."
Adivion seemed reluctant still when Petros whispered into his ear, "You know, women love risk takers my friend. Despite her legal leanings I am sure the same is true of young Elsbeth."
Adivion glanced at him sharply and after a moment smiled.
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(Once again based on one of Evil Paul's Cut-Scenes)
18th Day of Neth, Vieland County of Ustalav
Village of Mercy, Edge of the Shudderwood
The Lone Wolf and Cub tavern sat precariously on the edge of the Shudderwood. The old building and it’s owner Finneus Broadwater were looked upon with suspicion. Many of the farms and estates around Shudderwood knew full well the dangers of the ancient wood and yet old Finneus remained strangely safe. Tonight, however, the Cub edging closer than it had in a century to tragedy. Old Broadwater’s brow was covered in sweat and he continually wringed his giant hands over a wooden mug.
Quiet old farmers sat at their usual tables or stools puffing away at pipes and trying not to look at the tavern’s latest patrons. The young barmaids shied away from the new strangers but knew full well that there might be trouble if they did not serve them.
There were three new visitors to the Lone Wolf and Cub. One of them was a short man with sleekly oiled and curled mustache and neatly combed white hair. He seemed reserved and intellectual but he was certainly as wicked as the rest. The man next to him was taller and broader of shoulder, with long black hair and a wicked scar down his right cheek. He eyed the barmaids with a look that promised not only undue attention but murderous lust.
The last of the men was their leader. He was even taller than his compatriot wearing armor crafted out what could only be bone. Sitting on the table amidst the candles giving them light was his helmet, fashioned from the skull of some large humanoid. His skin was bone white and his eyes were dark hollow with eyes that shone red with an unnatural light. Their throaty laughter was the only sound in the deathly quiet tavern.
As they laughed the doors to the tavern burst open and three figures strode in. The three were lead by a slender but muscular woman wearing leather armor. She had long black hair flowing braided down her back and wearing leather armor. On her shoulder a large two handed sword rested in her hand like a weightless toothpick. Her eyes snapped between the many people in the tavern and settled on the bartender.
Behind her a slender woman in green robes and a furiously angry expression on her face walked with a gnarled stave. She had black skin, like the men and women of the Mwangi Expanse and a sleekly shaved bald head and her eyes were strangely a vibrant green. The final member was a broad shouldered man in his middle age with short grey hair and with a heavy axe and sword already ready in his thick powerful hands.
The sweating man behind the bar instantly dropped his mug and backpedaled into several bottles sending them crashing to the floor. Shivering uncontrollably he began to weep as he stuttered an urgent plea, "My queen... please... I tried to tell them to leave and remind them.."
The dark haired woman offered a stony face as she gestured dismissively at the back door of the tavern and an accent thick with a Chelaxian accent, "Leave, before I carve out your heart." The bartender leaped away from the bar and ran at full speed toward the rear door. The others, sitting silent and horrified, did not move. The woman narrowed her eyes and snarled at them, "I said move!"
Within moments the tavern was empty save the three strangers, the dark haired woman, and her two attendants. The white skinned man had paid them no attention before but now he turned his sharp red eyes on the woman and managed a thin confident smile as he said, "Your ladyship. I was hoping I would get to meet you."
The dark skinned woman stepped forward snarling at the three men, "Are you the three fools that destroyed the grove at Primarch? I will..."
The tall woman managed to reach out an arm and forestall her attendant turning her eyes back on the man with the red eyes sniffing softly as a hungry smile crossed her lips, "Necromancer. Years of digging your hands... and other body parts into corpses leaves a distinct smell. Cybrisa is justifiably upset, that grove was under her protection... and the seven of my kin that you killed at Firewine Bridge were under mine." She hefted her large silver etched sword off her shoulder easily and smiled at them, "Mewl your last words."
The tall imposing leader of the three men stood and bowed deeply, mockingly, to the woman and her two companions, "Queen Kvalca, I am Auren Vrood, high necromancer of The Whispering Way. My companions are Luremin Rask, Cavalier and trusted servant of the Way," he said gesturing to the man with the long dark hair and then turned his attention to the white haired man with the mustache,"and this gentleman is Amadeus Rask, Inquisitor of Urgathoa."
Auren smiled and lifted his staff from beside the table lazily, "Queen Kvalca, I feel I am obligated to tell you that the age of your rule is swiftly coming to an end... or at least as you have grown to know it. If you and your servants wish to remain free to rule this region I would suggest you wake up and smell the change in the wind." Auren paused to sniff the air and then glanced at his comrades, all three breaking into smiles as he muttered darkly, "It smells of death."
Kvalca narrowed her eyes and nearly snarled at the man as he continued speaking, "If not you, then surely one of your subordinates recognizes the value of seeking the solace of the Whispering Way." He smiled and looked to her attendants pointedly, "mayhaps the Vallensag or perhaps the Demon Wolves or.. even the Dorzhanev or the Mordrinacht can find the way."
Kvalca snarled and leaped forward but the three men had vanished by the virtue of some magic, almost as if in the blink of an eye.
Finding the strange men vanished she angrily brought her sword down on the nearest table, reducing it to kindling. Cybrisa stepped forward resting her hand on the furious woman's shoulder, "My queen are these defilers worming their way into the heart of our wood. Give the word and we will hunt them from here to Chastel."
Kvalca tried to cool her temper and turned her eyes sharply on Mathus who stood silent near the door speaking smoothly and without a hint of the anger that she displayed moments before, "Tell me Mathus, can you hunt these men?"
The grey haired man sheathed his swords, looking intently at the spot where they were just standing and then nodded, "Yes, of course my Queen. They will be carrion within three days."
Kvalca turned back to Cybrisa, who looked genuinely concerned and muttered, "Burn this place to the ground."
(In the sitting room of the lodge they have an old beaten leather chair that sits in front of the fire and almost every night someone is asked to sit and tell a tale. Here are the three legends that I came up with. Some of them need a lot of work.)
Adimarus Ionuccu
Delgros sits down in front of the Lodge's large fireplace in an old beaten leather chair that you have heard referred to as 'The Storyteller's Throne' and starts to spin the night's tale. Now out of his hunter's leathers and freed of the trappings of a woodsman he seems tired and much out of place in the great Lodge's finery. He slowly stokes his old pipe with a lit twig and breathes in deeply as he starts the first night's tale, "Some of you, those that were here, may remember that last month the Lodge had an uncustomary visitor, a paladin of Abadar who called himself Adimarus. He was sullen and kept to himself, and was here only a few days. I told no one at the time but I had heard of the man. His tale is of great heroics and loss... and mystery. It's a tale I intend to tell."
"It's amazing how legends fade but only fifteen years ago the Paladin Ionuccu was heralded in the streets of great Caliphas. Every school child knew the stories of his slaying of the devils at Black Steeple Mountain and how he and his companions routed the Bandit King Red Rhodes," Delgros softly, as tendrils of smoke rolled out between his lips and into the air. The nobles seemed engrossed by the tale and leaned forward intently to listen as the huntsman spoke.
"The hero and his companions were on the hunt for Ionuccu's greatest foe, The Grand Witch Othi, who at that time was a scourge of all Ustalav. There was some worry that her machinations with devils and dark powers would threaten even the impenatrable walls of Caliphas itself. The nation could nary suffer another great power like the fiends in Castle Kronquist to the north so the faithful of Abadar sent their hero to hunt his great foe. Following after him, ever faithful, were Father Kanon Greenridge of Sarenrae, the great soldier Duncan Stoneman, and the sorceress Adriana Stormwarden," the night was growing darker outside the lodge and distantly the amassed group could hear the faint howl of a wolf.
Delgros continued slowly, "Traveling east from Carrion Hill the group of heroes struck out into the depths of the Soddentimbers Swamp, ever the dwelling of hags and horrors. Deeper and deeper into the swamp they traveled, pausing to smite a young green dragon and force him to reveal the dwelling of the mighty hag before striking down into the Great Fen where Oothi and her vile sisters dwelled in secret plotting to destroy all of Ustalav."
"The heroes struck down into those black caverns besting all manner of summoned horror and vile trap set by the witch to forestall the intruders. Adriana Stormwarden succumbed to a trap horrible slime that consumed her and the good Father Greenridge was killed by a mighty Wraith only to rise as an abomination himself. The only two of the heroes to survive to fight Oothi, Duncan and Ionuccu, struggled valiantly against her and managed to best her. Stoneman was crippled in the struggle and Ionuccu's faith was shaken. He retired from heroic exploits and left Ustalav and his remaining friend."
Delgros puffed his pipe slowly and said, "As far as I know last month was the first time he has been seen in Ustalav since Oothi's fall. I spoke with him. I said, "Lord Ionuccu, what brings you back to Ustalav? I thought you long gone from this accursed land."
The huntsman sighed and looked around, "All he says to me is, 'answers, I want answers.' He spoke to no man else than me and but a day later walked into the great wood without horse or supplies. Ain't been seen since."
The Werewolves of Shudderwood
Corvin Tergsvor smirked triumphantly and dropped into the Storyteller's Throne with his lute in hand. Tonight was much the same as the previous and tradition held that every night someone must tell a story for the gathered guests of Ascanor. He slowly strummed the strings of the lute and spoke confidently and with a sly smile, "Tonight I will tell you all what I know of the legends of Shudderwood. Unsurprisingly many of those tales deal with our nightly perveyors of howls the werewolves."
Duristan, who had been staring with a bored expression off into one of the Lodge's large windows snapped his head around at the mention of his intended prey, scooting forward to listen to the tale. Tergsvor strummed the lute and spoke in his typical languid fashion, "There are many tales of the werewolves of Shudderwood. Some claim that they are a disorganized roving band of beasts with no thought. Others still claim that they are an organized tribe of packs with chieftain's and even a great packlord."
Corvin glanced at the windows of the great lodge with a smile and shrugged, "I for one believe the latter. There are a number of tales of the werewolves including the legend of the great lich-wolf Lucimar who was the lord of the lost pack. Rumors say that even the great packlords fear his return but..." He grinned and rolled his eyes, "I think I prefer the tale of the legend of how the werewolves came to be."
Tergsvor stood and strolled in front of the great fire casting a flickering shadow over the surrounding the Throne and spoke softly, "Long ago... thousands of years ago... Before even the Kellids ruled this land there was a simple lumberjack who lived in these woods with his young wife. His wife was a bard and she traveled all through old Ustalav telling tales but always faithful and always returning to her beloved."
The young man waved his hand and made a flickering shadow take form on the wall. The figure of a broad shouldered man with an axe was embracing a slender shadow in it's arms appeared and Tergsvor continued speaking, "Unfortunately the young wife returned from her travels one day terribly ill. She proclaimed that she had grown incredibly ill as she re-entered the wood. Some claim that she blasphemed Desna in one of her tales and had been cursed by her for insolence. Her husband was terrified and immediately discarded his duties to care for her."
The image shifted to a man knelt over a bundled bed and behind the shadow of a window with a circle floating in it appeared, "It was when the full moon came that he found that his wife had fallen into the clutches of the terrible curse of the werewolf. She ran from him into the deep woods as a great massive beast and caused carnage throughout the wood."
The image changed to a great wolf howling toward a full moon tracking across the sky, "The lumberjack was terrified but still filled with love for his wife. When he found her, unconcious from her ramblings he returned her to his home and built her a great wooden cage. Desperate to protect his love and sate her wolven form he concocted a plan."
The image changed to a great wolf in a cage and a man leading obvious travelers down a path toward a cabin, "He offered travelers of the great wood a place to stay and then butchered and fed them to the creature his wife had become. Eventually the man succumbed to the disease himself."
The cabin lay in ruins in the shadowy image and two great wolves ran from it into the night, "Their love continued and now all of the great werewolves of Shudderwood are their brood ever hunting through the night, the propagation of murderous love."
The Tale of Feldgrau
The Margrave of Sturdinae made his way to the large leather chair before the fire and slid into it. Like Delgros before him he casually and expertly lit a rather intricate scrimshaw pipe and leaned back exhaling smoke almost immediately, "My tale is unfortunately one of my own life but I assure you that it is both dark and not a tale that I generally share."
The Margrave sighed and looked down as if deep in his own memories looking for clues to his own tale, "Long ago I was one of Count Neska of Barstoi's dearest friends, and one of his most skilled generals. We found ourselves in a war with Ardeal that lasted years and I gained a reputation for being a merciless monster on the field of battle."
Belik of Cortaud, standing by ever eager to serve the guests, muttered in a whisper, "My lord Margrave I do not think it was so.."
Graydon raised his hand and shook his head, "Please, I am an old man and well aware of my reputation. I have spent the years following my association with Neska being a thorn in his side and hoping to attone for the horrors I visited not only on the soldiers of Ardeal but my own troops."
Continuing he tiredly puffed his pipe and sat up straighter in the old chair once again displaying the bearing of the old commander you had met in your days at the Lodge, "It was not until we marched into the village of Feldgrau that I realized the horrors I was responsible for. The war was going well and we had set up a field camp in this small town hoping to branch our forces into Ardeal and toward Ardis. Neska was in fevered and bloodthirsty spirits. I was far too pleased with my victories. Our men stayed in the Feldgrau homes, and partook of their food and drink. Some of the villagers openly raged against our presence, still very loyal to Ardeal despite our easy occupation of their village."
Graydon took a quick drink of some honeyed wine provided by Belik and continued, "On our last day in Feldgrau Neska called me into his tent and told me that our troops were to depart within three days. Here is where the truth departs from the histories. Neska told me that he wished to burn the village and murder it's citizens to the child upon our departure toward Ardis."
Suddenly angry he slammed his fist on the old leather chair, "I decried him and said that I would have no part of murdering an entire village of non-combatants. I was a hard man to the forces I faced but I would be no monster. Neska told me that if I were to stay among his trusted that I would do as he said."
Graydon sighed and looked down into the mug of mead in his hand, "To my shame I told him that I would, and then at the fall of night rode with my guard to Lozeri hoping to escape my old friend and the horrors he hoped to cause. Historians say that Neska realized the futility of his cause and when he lost my aid on the field of battle abandoned the war. He took out his frustration in one last massacre on the people of Feldgrau. I assert that he intended to do so all along. For years after Neska eagerly proclaimed his hate for me to any noble ear that would listen and I am forever forbidden within Ardeal or my homeland of Barstoi."
Graydon finished after a drink of his mead, "To my shame I believe that it was the way I treated Neska's forces, my horrible brutality that hardened their hearts to the rape and slaughter inflicted on Feldgrau. I will forever live in sorrow for that and I will ever strive to oppose Neska and his brood for my penance."
I posted this next bit in someone else's thread by mistake. I am having trouble with one of the players in my offline game that is currently in Broken Moon and these are the changes I am proposing to counter his somewhat min-maxed archery.
Human Fighter 7
Human Rogue 5 / Shadowdancer 2
Human Cleric (Evangelist) 7
Half-Orc Alchemist (Vivisectionist) 7
Aasimarr Paladin 7
Tiefling Witch 7
The group is currently just beginning Broken Moon. They have just returned to Ascanor Lodge after their first encounter with the Vallensag werewolves. The next likely encounter is either going to be a hunting trip with Duristan or the Giant Tarantula. Here are my planned encounters to challenge the group:
Duristan's Hunting Trip
In their previous encounter with the Vallensag Duristan, when faced with actual werewolves in numbers, fled in terror thus earning him the ire of the group (especially when they so easily bested them). Upon their return to the Lodge he reveals to them that he was present at a hunting raid of werewolves on his Uncle's estate and is, for all his bravado and eagerness, terrified of werewolves.
He begs the group for a chance to redeem himself with a hunting trip to strike at the pack of werewolves that even the other packs shun, the Jezeldens.
Duristan has found out (somehow) that in their zealotry a small group of Jezeldens have started kidnapping travelers and taking them to a camp to the north. They are starving the prisoners to the point of madness and forcing them to fight each other (in a horrible parody of dog-fighting). The losers are fed to the winners. Inevitably those who resort to cannibalism survive. Occasionally they choose the most bloodthirsty captive and turn him into a werewolf.
The camp is a small palisade fort and at any given time is protected by a Jezelden Slaving Party that includes:
(1) Jezelden Slave Master
fiendish human natural werewolf fighter 4
(As page 55 but optimized completely with a whip for trip attacks. This guy is designed to take down fleeing captives but keeping an archer off his feet consistently will work. Also has dazzling display.)
(1) Jezelden Slave Hunter
fiendish human natural werewolf ranger 4
(archery optimized and specialized and favored enemy humanoid. 10 arrows with a DC 14 sleep poison. Favors spreading out his shots to knock out people for capture.)
(1) Jezelden Sleeper
fiendish human natural werewolf rogue 4
(stealth and non lethal damage optimized for taking captives)
(2) Dire Wolves
As an encounter it's somewhat uninspired but saving the captives, some of whom are bloodthirsty and mad and others who are just terrified and malnourished might make the group feel a bit more heroic.
Changing the Tarantula
In Evil Paul's thread on adding cut-scene like elements to the game he has a post-harrowstone cut-scene where Vrood and two accomplices are actually responsible for the murder of Aleece, the member of the Crooked Kin. I took this and wrote up a small story to be read to the players after they left Ravengro which indicates that they offered Aleece to the Phase Spider so that it would poison the woman to death and they could gather the spirit of someone who had died of poison. I have been looking for a way to add that spirit back into the game and have been considering that the Tarantula might make a good candidate.
Aleece, for her part, is not necessarily evil but has been driven completely insane by her torture and death, and the torment inflicted upon her by the Whispering Way. She is also a victim of the special ability conferred by her state mentioned below.
Before leaving Ascanor, Vrood conferred with 'the villain' about possible pursuers and mentioned in passing that releasing the spider might be fortuitous. One of his followers possessed the spider with the 'Venom Spirit' which is detailed below.
The Giant Tarantula is as normal but CN with an intelligence of 10, the undead descriptor and the following abilities:
Special Abilities
Lament of the Fallen (Su): The Venom Spirit is constantly subjected to images of those who have been lost. In a radius of two hundred feet the spirit can see clear pictures and memories of people who have recently seen or had someone they know die. There is no save for this ability but characters can roll a perception check DC 30 to feel a chill or as if they are being watched.
Poison Drone (Su): As a full round action the Venom Spirit vomits up concentrated venom into a pool. The next round a representation of someone who has died (viewed either personally or through Lament of the Fallen) rises and acts at the direction of the Spirit.
These drones are roughly half the CR of the creature which the Venom Spirit inhabits and exhibit attacks representative of those used in life. Archers fire arrows of pure poison, wizards throw missles of poison energy, warriors weild swords of poison and so on.
(As Ectoplasmic Template but all attacks are touch and instead of horrifying ooze inflict the poison that was used to kill the Venom Spirit in question which in this case is Phase Spider venom. Unarmed attacks also require a DC 14 reflex save to avoid being inflicted with poison.)
The tarantula summons three of these drones when it is freed and then moves out into the grounds to attack the Lodge. In it's madness and rage it just wants to reunite the people there with their loved ones which means killing them.
Interestingly, given it's intelligence score it's possible for the spirit to be reasoned with despite the language barrier. After the spider is dead the spirit of Aleece remains briefly to thank the group and further solidify the melevolence of Vrood and his cronies. My only worry is about layering too much possession into the game back to back with the next encounter.
Valkacis
Going to stay pretty much the same. I may max out it's hit points but the dilemma with this encounter is to kill or not to kill the person possessed so it should still be effective.
Wolves in the Wood
4 Vallensag instead of two.
The Villain
As of now I just plan to replace summon monster III with wind wall, perhaps maxing out hit points.
Pronoas
As normal but all creatures are advanced template.
Skychamber
As normal but add 2 dire wolves.
Highthrone
I'm torn about how to handle this. I read in one of the threads that someone had Cybrisa have natural spell and cast from eagle form up above the party hiding within a fog cloud spell. That might be the best way to go because if I leave her as is the paladin is going to murder her in one round and then the group will just gang up on Mathus to end the fight in less than three rounds of combat.
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Thanks for suggestions. I took them to heart and here are the stats for the creatures I'm thinking of putting in the camp.
I also checked out Rakshaka's thread on Broken Moon and thought I would take a shot at creating his Relentless Brain Eating Zombie Dire Bears for an encounter with Cybrisa. Here are those stats.
Jezeldan Sleeper Human Rogue level 4 (skill points 32) Rogue
(Rogue )
hp 30 (0d8+4d8+8+4), Werewolf, Hybrid form/Fiendish CR 5 XP 1600 Any Medium Humanoid
Init +6 Speed 30 AC 22, Touch 15, flat footed 17 (masterwork Studded Leather, Shield, none)
(+4 Dex, +4 Natural, +3 armour, +1 feats)
Melee Base Attack 3 CMB 5; CMD 20, Single Attack(+1/+1) Rapier +8 (1d6+3/18-20) or Shortbow ,Composite +7 (1d6+2 X3)
Full Attack (+1/+1) Rapier +6 (1d6+3/18-20)(Trip If hit with bite +15 check modifier), (+1/+0) Dagger +6 (1d4+1/19-20) , Bite +2 (1d6+2), Claw +2 (1d4+2) or Shortbow ,Composite +7 (1d6+2 X3) range 70; Space 5ft.; Reach 5
SA Smite good 1 per day add extra damage = to HD total, Curse of Lycanthropy DC(11) , Trip If hit with bite +15 check modifier, SQ Darkvision 60, Resistance to cold and fire 5, Spell Resistance HD + 5 (max of 25), Alternate form Dire wolf, Wolf hybrid, Damage reduction 10/silver, Empathy Wolf, Low-light Vision, Scent, Evasion, Trap Sense 1, Trapfinding, Trapfinding-2, Uncanny Dodge
Fort +3, Ref +8, Will +3,
Str 15, Dex 18, Con 14, Int 8, Wis 14, Cha 8
Skills Acrobatics 11, Appraise 4, Bluff 4, Climb 9, Diplomacy -1, Disable Device 9, Disguise 4, Escape Artist 4, Intimidate -1, Know Local 3, Linguistics 4, Perception 9, Sense Motive 7, Sleight of Hand 9, Stealth 11, Survival 2, Swim 2, Use Magic Device 3 Feats: Bleeding Attack, Fast Stealth, Armour Prof Light, Dodge, Evasion, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Two-Weapon Fighting, Weapon Finesse;Languages Common
ITEMS: Masterwork Studded Leather, Potion of Spider climb -, Potion of Barkskin (+2) -, +1 Rapier, Masterwork Dagger,
Jezeldan Witch Human Witch level 4 (skill points 28) Strong and Ugly
(Patron - Deception )
hp 26 (0d8+4d6+8+4), Werewolf, Hybrid form/Fiendish CR 5 XP Any Medium Humanoid
Init +1 Speed 30 AC 20, Touch 12, flat footed 19 (+1 No Armour, Shield, none)
(+1 Dex, +4 Natural, +5 armour)
Melee Base Attack 2 CMB 2; CMD 13, Single Attack Mace,Heavy +2 (1d8) Full AttackMace,Heavy +2 (1d8)(Trip If hit with bite +15 check modifier), Bite-3 (1d6), Claw-3 (1d4); Space5ft.; Reach 5
SA Smite good 1 per day add extra damage = to HD total, Curse of Lycanthropy DC(11) , Trip If hit with bite +15 check modifier, SQ Darkvision 60, Resistance to cold and fire 5, Spell Resistance HD + 5 (max of 25), Alternate form Dire wolf, Wolf hybrid, Damage reduction 10/silver, Empathy Wolf, Low-light Vision, Scent, Familiar - Alertness (Ex), Familiar - Deliver Touch Spells (Su), Familiar - Empathic Link (Su), Familiar - Improved Evasion (Ex), Familiar - Intelligence 7, Familiar - Natural Armor Adj 2, Familiar - Share Spells, Familiar - Store Spells, Witchs Familiar -1 (Ex), Witchs Familiar -2 (Ex)
Fort +3, Ref +2, Will +6,
Str 10, Dex 13, Con 14, Int 18, Wis 14, Cha 8
Skills Climb 0, Craft Alchemy 11, Craft Poison Making 8, Fly 7, Heal 2, Intimidate 6, Know Arcana 11, Know Nature 8, Know the Planes 11, Perception 2, Spellcraft 11, Stealth 1, Survival 2, Use Magic Device 5 Feats: Hex - Cackle (Su), Hex - Misfortune (Su), Hex - Slumber (Su), Ability Focus, Accursed Hex, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Spell Focus; Languages Common
Buffing spells pre-cast: Mage Armor caster level 4
Spells Known: Witch Spells: CL 4 Concentration 8 Level 0 (4) DC 14: Dancing Lights, Daze, Mending, Touch of Fatigue, ; Level 1 (5) DC 15: Command, Mage Armor, Obscuring Mist, Sleep, Ventriloquism, ; Level 2 (4) DC 16: Enthrall, Hold Person, Invisibility, Summon Monster II, ;
ITEMS: Bracers of armour (+1) +1AC, Potion of Barkskin (+2) -, Potion of Cure light wounds -, Potion of Cure light wounds -, Potion of Shield of faith (+2) -, Ring of Protection (+1) +1AC,
Jezeldan Slaver Human Fighter level 4 (skill points 16) -Fighter
(Fighter )
hp 34 (0d8+4d10+8+4), Werewolf, Hybrid form/Fiendish CR 5 XP Any Medium Humanoid
Init +1 Speed 20 AC 24, Touch 12, flat footed 22 (masterwork Breastplate, +1 Shield, light steel)
(+1 Dex, +4 Natural, +6 armour, +2 shield, +1 feats)
Melee Base Attack 4 CMB 8; CMD 20, Single Attack(+1/+1) Whip +10 (1d3+5) or Shortbow ,Composite +5 (1d6+4 X3)
Full Attack (+1/+1) Whip +10 (1d3+5)(Trip If hit with bite +15 check modifier), Bite +3 (1d6+4), Claw +3 (1d4+4), Battle axe +2 (1d8+2 X3) or Shortbow ,Composite +5 (1d6+4 X3) range 70;Space 5ft.; Reach 5
SA Smite good 1 per day add extra damage = to HD total, Curse of Lycanthropy DC(11) , Trip If hit with bite +15 check modifier, SQ Darkvision 60, Resistance to cold and fire 5, Spell Resistance HD + 5 (max of 25), Alternate form Dire wolf, Wolf hybrid, Damage reduction 10/silver, Empathy Wolf, Low-light Vision, Scent, Armour Training 1, Bravery 1
Fort +6, Ref +2, Will +2,
Str 18, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 13, Wis 12, Cha 8
Skills Climb 9, Intimidate 6, Perception 3, Ride 8, Stealth -1, Survival 5, Swim 4 Feats: Dodge, Improved Trip, Quick Draw, Armour Prof Heavy, Armour Prof Light, Armour Prof Medium, Combat Expertise, Exotic Weapon Prof, Martial Weap Prof, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Tower Shield Proficiency, Weapon Focus; Languages Common
ITEMS: Masterwork Breastplate, +1 Shield, light steel, +1 Whip,
(3) Wolf, Dire/Fiendish hp 42 (5d8+20), CR 5 XP Neutral Large Animal (Magical beast)
Init +2 Speed 50 AC 14, Touch 11, flat footed 12 ( No Armour, Shield, none)
(+2 Dex, +3 Natural, -1 size)
Melee Base Attack 3 CMB 10; CMD 22, Single Attack Bite +9 (1d8+9) Full Attack Bite +9 (1d8+9)(Trip Can trip opponent as a free action +1 check modifier); Space 5ft.; Reach 5
SA Smite good 1 per day add extra damage = to HD total, Trip Can trip opponent as a free action +1 check modifier, SQ Damage reduction 5/ good, Darkvision 60, Resistance to cold and fire 10, Spell Resistance HD + 5 (max of 25), Low-light Vision, Scent
Fort +8, Ref +6, Will +1,
Str 22, Dex 15, Con 19, Int 6, Wis 10, Cha 12
Skills Perception 9, Stealth 3, Survival 0(Survival scent tracking 4) Feats: Run, Skill Focus (Perception), Weapon Focus; Languages
ITEMS:
RELENTLESS BRAIN EATING ZOMBIE DIRE BEAR (CAVE BEAR)
XP
NE Large animal
Init +2; scent; Perception +0
DEFENSE
AC 22, touch 10, flat-footed 22 (+0 Dex, +13 natural, –1 size)
hp 96 (14d8+12)
Fort +4, Ref +7, Will +6
OFFENSE
Speed 50 ft.
Melee 2 claws +17 (1d6+8), bite +17 (1d8+8, grab), slam +10 (1d6+8), slam +17 (1d6+8)
Space 10 ft.; Reach 5 ft.
STATISTICS
Str 27, Dex 15, Con 0, Int 0, Wis 10, Cha 10
Base Atk +9; CMB +18; CMD 21 (26 vs. trip)
Feats Toughness
Skills Perception +0
ECOLOGY
Whenever a fast zombie takes a full-attack action, it can make one additional slam attack at its highest base attack bonus. +10 move speed. Not staggered, no dr 5/slashing.
They gain a bite attack that deals damage based on the zombie’s size, and the grab special attack, usable against opponents of the zombie’s own size or smaller. When an opponent dies, the zombie uses its next turn to feast upon its victim’s brain, making spells that require a complete corpse (such as raise dead) useless. Anyone killed after being bitten by a brain-eating zombie rises as a brain-eating zombie in 2d6 hours unless the corpse is blessed or similar preventative measures are taken.
SWEET! Glad to help inspire. The bears look exactly like the ones I used. When I ran them, I couldn't help myself, and when initiative came up, I named them. It's just fun seeing reactions when you use the words Relentless and Brain Eating to describe the monster.
Wow... I just noticed your group composition, and the combination of the Paladin and Witch is pretty darned good, especially combined with the firepower of your other PCs.
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1.) The Jezeldan Slavers
The encounter just about the same way that I planned it except the party got creative and made it a little easier. The camp was surrounded by pit traps and one of them used the wand of ghost sound to make it appear as if a pig had dropped into a spiked pit trap. The noise drew out two of the werewolves and made the encounter inside the compound easier.
The question of how to deal with the most afflicted pit fighters, those in rabid health, kind of broke the encounter but it was certainly challenging.
2.) Giving Estovian an Accomplice
I used a Totenmaske that ambushed the party at Schloss Caromarc but it's just as easy to use Vorkstag for this. It's a little hard to explain story wise but making Belik of Cortaud an imposter and accomplice gave me versatility to keep the group from looking to the Warden too early.
It also made the encounter at the Stairs of the Moon more versatile, and for my large group gave them more of a challenge.
3.) Making Cybrisa Neutral
I changed the druid pack leader from Neutral Evil to True Neutral to give the group a story based 'semi-comrade' in the Shudderwood affairs. She laid out the affairs of the werewolves, the various domains, and even provided hints about the ambush on Kvalca Sain (whom she was very close to) that ultimately lead to the group convincing her and gaining her help in the final fight on the Stairs of the Moon.
Ultimately Cybrisa made a pact with Rhakis of the Prince's Wolves and the story culminated with the Shudderwood having a pair of Packlord mates.
4.) Using Adimarus for Story Elements
This will likely be a great pull for a priest / oracle / paladin. I had Adimarus be a fallen paladin of Abadar (which was the paladin in the group's religion) and then had Anti-Paladin and his Jezeldan comrades sweep across Ardeal murdering and turning every Abadaran priest and follower they came across. It all made the final battle with the werewolves in Feldgrau have considerable weight and allowed me to split the paladin from the group with a well placed challenge.
5.) The War in Feldgrau
After the battle at the Mill with the Jezeldans Cybrisa and Rhakis arrived with a small army of their combined packs. A two-pronged attack was devised where the werewolves would attack a 'LARGE' force of undead and cultists in the square while the group rushed off to fight Auren Vrood and Acreitia the commanders of the army.
Note: Changed Carrion Hill and Thrushmoor's sizes to give my players the ability to spend as much loot as they could sell in the largest city they could.
Large Town of Carrion Hill
A very drab, and unreasonably cold city on a stunted and rutted hill Carrion Hill sprawls like a labyrinth with little rhyme or reason. The buildings seem to lean precariously and it is not uncommon to see a figure peering from beyond a curtained window. The buildings are old and seem to have seen a lot of bad weather, largely made of stone with dull slate grey roofing. The people glare at you suspiciously and huddle under their cloaks in the terrible chill of Ustalav's long winter.
Buy Limit: 2,000
Purchase Limit: 10,000
Spellcasters: 5th Level
Minor Items:
Ranged: Composite shortbow +1; 2,375.00 gp
Feet: Sandals of quick reaction; 4,000.00 gp
Eyes: Goggles of minute seeing; 2,500.00 gp
Hands: Gauntlets of the skilled maneuver; 4,000.00 gp
Melee: Spear +1; 2,302.00 gp
Ranged: Light crossbow +1; 2,335.00 gp
Melee: Shortsword +1; 2,310.00 gp
Melee: Greatsword +1; 2,350.00 gp
Feet: Boots of elvenkind; 2,500.00 gp
Medium Items:
Shoulders: Lion cloak; 12,000.00 gp
Ranged: Longbow +1/Aberration Bane; 8,375.00 gp
Melee: Disarming blade; 17,820.00 gp
Wand of Water breathing (3rd Level, CL 5th); 11,250.00 gp
Wand of Resilient sphere (4th Level, CL 7th); 21,000.00 gp
Major Items:
Rod: Metamagic (+3 spell level), greater; 121,500.00 gp
Ring of spell storing; 50,000.00 gp
Shoulders: Juggernaut’s pauldrons; 40,000.00 gp
Village of Hyannis
Having traveled more than 100 miles south of Carrion Hill through the Hungry Mountains toward your final destination of Thrushmoor you are elated to come down out of the frigid and barren mountains and to see the rising smoke from a village. This is the county of Versex. The foliage is stunded and bleak and scavenging for food is incredibly difficult. The village sits at the head of a river, those of you versed in geography recognize it as the Danver which flows from here to the sea. The hill slope is dotted with mine entrances and carts and as you pass men and women covered in soot and wearing heavy coats glare at you with distrust. Every shack in the small town is stained with soot and it looks as if not a soul has managed to evade the contamination of the mine. The shopkeepers are happy to sell to the travelers coming from the mountains anything in their wares which includes a few magical items.
Base Limit: 500 gp
Purchase Limit: 2,500 gp
Spellcasting: 3rd Lvl
Minor Items:
Wand of Fog cloud (2nd Level, CL 3rd); 4,500.00 gp
Wrists: Bracers of steadiness; 2,000.00 gp
Melee: Greatsword +1/Huntsman; 8,350.00 gp
Armor: Scale mail +1; 1,200.00 gp
Wand of Expeditious retreat (1st Level, CL 1st); 750.00 gp
Medium Items:
Scroll of Breath of life (divine, 5th Level, CL 9th); 1,125.00 gp
Scroll of Firefall (arcane, 4th Level, CL 7th); 700.00 gp
Small Town of Rozenport
Following the river south out of the hamlet you make your way through the hilly county of Versex toward the coast and the city of Thrushmoor. On the way you encounter a small labyrinthine town on a cliff overlooking the river below. This is Rozenport, home of the famous Sincomakti School of Sciences which is more than 130 years old. The town having grown up around the old school many of the buildings appear to mirror it’s ancient architectural style with bulbous onion shaped parapets and a compunction for wrought iron decoration. For the most part it seems a nice quiet town. Intellectuals and workmen wander the town, quick to offer greetings and smiles to the travelers.
Base Limit: 1,000gp
Purchase Limit: 5,000gp
Minor Items:
Melee: Lance of jousting; 4,310.00 gp
Melee: Club +1; 2,300.00 gp
Melee: Sickle +2; 8,306.00 gp
Eyes of the eagle; 2,500.00 gp
Feet: Boots of the enduring march; 1,500.00 gp
Head: Buffering cap; 2,000.00 gp
Armor: Full plate +1/Balanced; 5,650.00 gp
Slotless: Figurine of wondrous power (silver raven); 3,800.00 gp
Medium Items:
Scroll of Restoration (divine, 4th Level, CL 7th); 1,700.00 gp
Wand of Cure moderate wounds (2nd Level, CL 3rd); 4,500.00 gp
Melee: Halberd +2; 8,310.00 gp
Scroll of Scrying (divine, 5th Level, CL 9th); 1,125.00 gp
Small City of Thrushmoor (Total At This Point: 52350 gp; 8750 gp each (6))
As you have traveled south on the cliffs over the Danver River the hills start to give way and turn into a rolling flat coast of Lake Encarthan's Avalon Bay. The dark grey waters of the great bay stretch off far out of sight until they're enveloped by rolling black fog. Heavy smoke rises from the chimneys and alchemical factories of the small city. Everything from ramshackle shanties to expansive multi-story manors line the streets. A great bazaar fills the southern part of the city not far from the large port filled with listing muti-sailed sailing ships crawling with sailors.
Purchase Limit: 25,000 (Thrushmoor will gladly take your loot off your hands)
Buy Limit: 4,000 (Same deal, 75% chance that the city has any given item under this price)
Spell Level: 6th (You can purchase any spell or formula under this level. All item creation feats.)
Magical Items: (A day of searching through the dusty old shops of the city turns up a number of magical gems)
Armor: Studded Leather armor +2; 4,175.00 gp
Wand of Aspect of the bear (2nd Level, CL 3rd); 4,500.00 gp
Melee: Battleaxe +1/Keen; 8,310.00 gp
Melee: Dagger +2; 8,302.00 gp
Body: Robe of components; 5,000.00 gp
Body: Cassock of the clergy; 4,600.00 gp
Melee: Longsword +1/Benevolent; 8,315.00 gp
Melee: Handaxe +1/Vicious; 8,306.00 gp
Armor: Studded leather armor +1/Light Fortification; 4,175.00 gp
Eyes: Inquisitor’s monocle; 6,800.00 gp
Slotless: Pearl of Power (2nd); 4,000.00 gp
Medium Items:
Ranged: Composite shortbow +1/Corrosive burst; 18,375.00 gp
Wand of Fireball (3rd Level, CL 5th); 11,250.00 gp
Neck: Hand of stone; 27,000.00 gp
Melee: Battleaxe +3/Flaming; 32,310.00 gp
Hands: Gloves of the shortened path; 27,000.00 gp
Head: Maw of the wyrm; 18,000.00 gp
Major Items:
Rod of absorption; 50,000.00 gp
Staff of enchantment; 82,000.00 gp
Eyes of charming; 56,000.00 gp
Body: Gunman’s duster; 36,000.00 gp
Since it's Kuthona (December) in Ustalav I've been consdering adding at least one winter horror based encounter in the Hungry Mountains. We are on hiatus at the moment so I have been putting a lot of effort into preparing the next session.
Sadly this post has lost half it's meaning since my other game got hijacked. So it ends.
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So, as a DM I am quite obsessed with making a great story first and making sure my players enjoy the game (a close) second. In effort to both make the game more interesting story wise, and get the players more involved I have made an effort to make each book of the path relate to one of the characters at a time. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to throw my notes about these different changes into this post and get input from other DM’s about my plans. So without further ado here are my story plots:
(Need I add that if you happen to be in a Carrion Crown game in Baton Rouge you should stop reading now)
1.) Haunting of Harrowstone – The prologue. This story was more about the group getting together and the Professor and Kendra more than it was about the group.
2.) Trial of the Beast – This adventure featured a sideplot for Hale (the drunken female fighter) who stressed to me that one element of her character is that she is afraid of fire. That was easy enough to run with.
Hale was born among the Shoanti but her mother fled from Varisia to the East after some kind of calamity involving fire. Given her mother’s nature as a barbarian/sorcerer it has been implied that it involved a mishap with magic. They ended up settling in Lepidstadt where Hale grew up to eventually join the guard.
One night the guard was involved in chasing a madman who had killed several children. Hale was doggedly on the man’s trail when the chase ended up in a warehouse. Setting a fire to slow his pursuers Hale was too petrified to follow and the man escaped.
Hale was devastated when she discovered the tale of Hergstag during the investigation and drew conclusions that the very same madman she had allowed to escape was responsible. She redeemed herself by killing Brother Swarm and buried the children herself.
Reward: Hale received the full benefits of the Redemption Story Feat.
3.) Broken Moon – This sub-plot centered around the group’s paladin Avram. Throughout I laced stories of a traveler who had come before them and whispers that he was in fact the famed Paladin Adimarus Ionoccu (sp?). This is a man that Avram had heard of in his youth specifically because of the hand he had in killing the Grand Witch Oothi. He was equally well known for his fall from faith and disappearance after all of his comrades were either killed or consumed by undeath due to the task.
An optional encounter in the forest where they experienced the horror of the Jezeldans reinforced how horrible they were.
While chasing the cultists and the Jezeldans across Ardeal the group found that not only had Adimarus (or a man wearing armor with scarred symbols of Abadar) had burned a town, used a cursed Jezeldan artifact to immediately turn bitten priests / parishioners into lycanthropes, and defiled the Abadaran altar to Jezelda. Needless to say Avram was motivated to fight him.
An epic one on one fight followed in the mill at Feldgrau. Without their paladin the group nearly got slaughtered by Duristan and the other Jezeldans but they came out on top. When Adimarus begged for mercy, Avram beheaded him. His reasoning: It was the mercy he deserved.
Reward: Avram was (through mysterious circumstances and a visit from a minor herald of Abadar) made a blooded Lord and owner of a small barren plot of land and a defunct mansion near Ardis which will prosper as the adventure goes on.
4.) Wake of the Watcher – In TotB Fabia (the traveling Varisian Rogue/Shadowdancer) discovered that her uncle Federico (mentor and father figure) was killed by the Whispering Way when he attempted to infiltrate them at Schloss Caromarc and was replaced by a Totenmaske. When she was able to summon shadow it was Federico’s shadow that returned and they have been traveling together since. In Wake of the Watcher Fabia encounters a woman in Illmarsh who strikes a remarkable resemblance to her (the general store owner’s wife) and ultimately WILL find that she was adopted from this woman when she had twins (a rare occurrence in Illmarsh which requires that both female children are fostered) because the mother was reluctant to have to send two children to live with the Neighbors.
The young woman drained to near death in the skum tunnels will turn out to be Fabia’s lost twin reinforcing the both the horror of what happened to her relative and what might have happened to her but for chance.
Reward: I’m not sure about this. I’ve been considering turning her shadow companion into a full fledged cohort (per leadership) given how squishy he is. Maybe I will give him back some of his skill points and feats. I also considered turning the sister into a low-level cohort (Oracle) if the group managed to cast Heal on her. There is always the option of another story feat.
5.) Ashes at Dawn – This is the adventure I am planning to change most (for story reasons and because the group never talked to Judge Daramid after their task at Schloss Caromarc) and it will center pretty closely around Anton (Half-Orc Alchemist). Anton’s player stressed to me that before becoming an alchemist he was a carpenter so I once again ran with it. Anton’s father is a well-to-do half-orcen carpenter in Caliphas and Quinley is his younger brother who they found on their doorstep roughly a year after his mother disappeared.
Given that he is from there it is likely that Anton and the group will go to his father’s Carpentry shop first once they reach the city. Quinley, who is now an inquisitor, will tell them (if they mention the whispering way, and I hope they do) that he is familiar with a group that might be able to introduce them to a group who has as-of-yet refused to help him in his personal quest against the undead. The Order of the Palatine Eye are well aware of the group by this time and happy to grant them audience.
After discovering the location of the Whispering Way hideout Quinley will accompany them and after finding it empty either tell them about Luvick or return to their father’s shop to find it ransacked. A notice claims that the occupant has been taken in for questioning.
The police found the stake at the last crime scene (where to lesser nobles <non vampires> were also killed) and linked it to the shop. Knowing that Quinley is an inquisitor he is now wanted for all of the murders. This is when he opts to lead them to Luvick to find the real murderer and the whispering way.
Reward: I have no idea yet.
6.) Shadows of Gallowspire – Haven’t planned that far ahead yet.
Some of these are really good set with the background of your characters
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1.) Giant Octopus Encounter
I decided to make this encounter more story related and throw in an interesting mechanic.
When the group emerged from the temple they immediately noted through virtue of a perception check that something was going on at the docks. When they arrived a group of towns folk had surrounded a boat at the dock and Tom Breckege was giving an enpassioned speech to the crown in front of his wife who he had chained to the mast.
Merida Breckege, as mentioned in my previous update, is the mother of one of the pc's although her shame keeps her from coming directly out and saying it. The town has decided to send her to the Tern Rocks for helping the outsiders.
As the group advances down the docks and challenges Breckege to let her go I had the octopus emerge from under the dock and wrap it's tentacles around to attack the group.
One might ask, "Tybid how did this giant monstro see the group?"
Answer discoverable through a DC 30 Religion check, "Dagon had granted the octopus sight through his worshippers eyes."
Although the fight was dicey, the shadowdancer's shadow cohort was the mvp draining the octopus down to 8 strength. The group saved Merida and killed Tom Breckege.
2.) The Assassin
In Thrushmoor the group dodged this encounter twice. Clanartus was running around town trailing them and pulling gather information checks to try and catch them but eventually followed them to Illmarsh.
So on the way to the Lonely Quay to put Merida in the safe hands of Horace Croon I had Clanartus approach them in the guise of the Sheriff, who they had had the mayor send off on an errand.
Unfortunately despite his 31 Disguise check the rogue got a 35 perception and noticed him and his skulking rogues immediately. I had already decided that this fight wouldn't be a huge deal. In fact Clanartus had visited Undiomede House looking for the Dark Rider or Gaster Lucas and gotten infested with a slugspawn for his trouble.
When he was one round away from death Clanartus gave up and promptly begged the group to kill him but to do it with fire.
He was terrified of the thing he might become if the thing in his head was allowed to emerge and he knew nothing short of fire or a bath in acid would save him.
It gave the group a chance to see one of their enemies in actual terror and for Clanartus to mention the whispers he had heard in his head, "Shub-Niggurath, Mother of a Thousand Young".
Before they could learn too much, however, the spawn realized what they were doing and Clanartus relayed that, telling the group that the spawn were in fact intelligent. The assassin died in a deluge of acid and fire before it could emerge.
3.) Funny Story
So the first room the group entered in Undiomede House was the living room with the dreaded Tick Swarm. The rogue investigates the room and riles up the swarm which promptly swarms around the witch and the paladin.
Now, when the player who made the witch created her he spent a bit of his starting gold (2,000) buying a bag of grenade weapons. So the paladin pulls out his scroll of dimension door (picked up from estovian) and the witch drops the bag onto the ground. <I missed a chance to have the two Hounds of Tindalos slip into his dimensional gate but they weren't aware of the group at this time.>
The witch and paladin are both rapidly approaching death as they appear outside. The witch shoots the bag of grenades with a lightning bolt, which does an AVERAGE of 238 points of damage to the swarm, and the walls, and roof of the building. The fighter and alchemist have to roll reflex saves to avoid taking 4D6 damage from the falling roof followed by a will save to avoid being deafened for 2d6 x 10 minutes.
Needless to say the entire structure is aware of their presence now.
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So the ultimate reveal about one of my group's origins is coming up. They will discover that she was one of a pair of twins that managed to escape Illmarsh when she was a small child. Her twin will be the young woman in the cave-nursery.
As a gift to the players in an effort to make them feel more individual and give a personal boon for those who managed to keep one character alive throughout the entire path I typically give a reward for the completion of personal character arcs like this.
She is a 6/4 Rogue / Shadowdancer. I am still debating about what boon she should receive once this is all done. Her shadow companion is her now deceased Uncle and he is already fairly effective in combats with living opponents. The strength drain is potent. He is unfortunately also pretty squishy which I suppose is intended.
As a boon I considered giving the shadow one or two levels of rogue (and a ghost touch dagger) to reflect regaining some memories and sense of self after the events of the path. My concern is that this will put her own cohort in contention with her abilities.
I also considered making the young woman in the caves, if they manage to heal her, a low-level Oracle cohort of the group.
Examples of Boons so far:
The Fighter got a free story feat (Redemption) which allows her to reroll one save per day.
The Paladin of Abadar received a lordship and land near Ardis which he was thoroughly happy with.
Any advice from the esteemed people of the boards?
It's only as you grow closer to the singing that you discover with horror that what you initially believed to be dress making mannequins are in fact the completely dessicated bodies of a number of women. Their bodies in many cases lay wrapped protectively around child like bodies. Their faces are far from masks of terror but pure supplication and apathy. Seated amongst the bodies, the only upright form is that of a young woman from which a haunting raspy lullaby issues. The voice is familiar and nags your senses with an uncomfortable truth. Her body, emaciated and frail is outlined by a radiating glow of otherworldly green light from the southern tunnel.
She remains turned away as you approach but her singing stops as you come to regard her face. She says looking south tears running down her cheeks, "The light is so beautiful. Things are so much more peaceful there."
The young woman idly draws her pale bleached hand over an infant's inert and very still form that she clutches carefully in her slender arms. The steady glow from the southern tunnel, sickly and green seems to suffuse the woman's emaciated body and almost shine through her illuminating the macabre chamber of dessicated bodies, woman and child alike, littering the cavern floor. When this woman turns to you her face, Fabia's face, regards you with empty pupiless eyes. A small but sly smile curves the corner of her lips and she whispers, "Will you take me when you go?"
As you look down in terror or concern at the identical twin of your long time companion the shade of Federico emerges from the shadows. He seems more solid, more substantial than he has been in your experience. What had been the simple outline of a man takes on composition and form as he comes to kneel down before the young woman. The shadow bows his head to the blissfully ignorant woman and for the first time when he speaks it is not only Fabia who can hear his once strong voice.
His voice is slow and measured and comes in short clipped sentences, "When I came to this town I was angry. I was furious with my sister for interuppting my life. The people smelled of swamp water. Almost certainly inbred. Why did she come here?"
"I found her working as a mid-wife for a shopkeepers wife. They were thick as thieves and very much alike. Thrill-seekers and adventurers at heart. Merida was desperate to escape the town. Threatened to heist Old Tom's rum stores and skip town. The plan had merit."
"My sister says, to late with child to travel. Merida accepts her advice. Old Tom, her husband, hated my sister. Hated me more. Pegged me for what I was. It was surprising to us how much Merida hated him. So much venom."
The shade paused and muttered, "As much as he hated us he seemed to care more for the children."
"One stormy night Merida goes into labor.. Two children. My sister, even I, was happy. Merida was terrified. Told us about some tradition. The Neighbors. Sounded like fairy-tale hogwash to me. One child, the loss she could bear. Two was too much. She asked us if we would take her and her children away."
"Told us to take one child to an old dock outside of town. Cover of darkness and rain allowed us to escape the town. She assured us they would be hostile."
"Hours passed at the meeting spot. No sign of Merida. I came back here for her and... and..."
The shade regards the young woman with visible shame and sorrow on shadowy features, "She wouldn't talk to me. She was all bruises and whispers... Not the Merida I knew. She begged me to leave and never return. When I threatened her husband she begged me to leave him be. For her child's sake."
"I skulked in the shadows of Illmarsh to find no answers. We were blamed for killing a local lord and kidnapping his son. There was no sign of the child so we ultimately chose to leave."
His broken whisper ends as he says, "This is my fault."
A cold and long silence follows that is finally broken when the young woman's small grin breaks into a full smile and she says, "Silly old man." The young woman's frail arms wrap around the ephemeral shadow's shoulders and she gives him a child-like hug.
Aware of the party... and on fire?
I'm thinking the leader would come to a window and the cultists would come running outside to see what the heck happened. Then the leader can be dropping spells down while the others work with the moss giant to deal with the melee types. Add some smoke if anyone runs in to try to get to the boss and it'll be a grand old time!
You can also stagger the bad guys arrivals as necessary if all at once is too much.
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I actually didn't think about the grenades causing a fire. I probably should have and had them hear the baby crying forcing them to fight through the conditions of a spreading fire. Could have been fun. :)
The encounters at Undiomede House actually went pretty well I suppose. I decided to have cultists and giant dogpile on the group at different rounds based on their power-up suite. The fight was dangerously close and set a precedent for the group's alchemist to get mauled.
Things that happened to the alchemist
- Confused for 12 rounds.
- Ice Storm
- Hit with a Harm spell to 1 hp.
- Greater Commanded to prone.
- Narrowly saved and avoided being hit by a blade barrier
Other Encounters
- Lost 4 levels to spectres.
- 'Ripped' a new one by gazing Hounds of Tindalos
They chose to duck back into the house when they noticed the Shantak though. I may likely have it jump them when they start to leave the house but now they are on their way down into the caves to fight Skum.
Below I typed up something to hand out to my players before Ashes at Dawn. May type up something later today about Adivion's motivations in my game.
City of Caliphas, Ustalav
A steady misty sleet poured over the rider as he galloped toward the gate of the large city through the dead of night. The great keeps and forts of the stark grey city loomed in darkness illuminated by the occasional lantern or torch. The young woman behind him wrapped his arms around him protectively, silent and motionless.
The rider slowed his massive black steed long enough to roll out a document for the confused guards. The various seals and officious stamps of ink confused the two men, but they knew full well to not impede someone with such credentials. Barely breaking stride the rider charged through the opening gate and into the cobblestoned streets of Caliphas.
Few wandered the avenues in such weather. An occasional guardsman bound in heavy woolen coats and carrying spears adorned with lanterns paused to regard him as he passed. The horse made it’s way from the commercial shops and taverns of the gate district into the estates and manses of the wealthy and often noble elite. The horse, it’s nostrils steaming with exertion came to a thunderous halt before the gates of a palatial mansion clearly of one of the oldest families in the city.
The wrought iron gates opened immediately attended by two estate guards and a porter wearing a seal skin cloak standing by with similar garments for the two riders. After their dismount he lead them up the path toward the large oak doors of manse. Gardens surrounded them, now grey and covered with frost.
The doors were heaved open to a steady wave of heat. Several young maids were on hand with blankets and immediately set about warming and caring for the young woman ushering her away from the large man and into another room doting over the silent woman with considerable care. The rider removed the hood of his cloak to reveal his matted and long black hair and his handsome yet scarred face.
The porter offered a nasal and dismissive comment to the visitor, “My lord will attend you in the study Sir Rask.”
Rask sneered at the man and snatched a cloth from his hands, using it to wipe the moisture from his face as he strolled into the study. The room was rich with dark ornate wood paneling and brass fixtures. Two huge red leather chairs sat at a drawing table adorned with pipes and bottles filled with rich brown liquid facing the fireplace.
The sole occupant of the room was a hunched elderly man wearing a fine dark red vest over a white shirt with it’s sleeves rolled to his elbows. He seemed to lean heavily against a cane and his breathing was labored as he said, “Rask, thank Desna that you finally managed to get here.” Even as he spoke his attention was drawn as several guards wandered in bearing a chest from the man’s horse, carefully setting it on a small table.
The old man hobbled forward, his eyes wide as he studied it. Rask smirked as he walked over, carefully using his key to open the lock and mutter the command word to bypass it’s various wards. He opened it to reveal the various canopic jars and the massive reconstructed skull gathered from Feldgrau. The elder lord perused the jars and muttered with a note of concern in his voice, “And the vessel?”
Rask smirked and moved to pour himself a glass of brandy, “The scrolls you provided worked nicely. She was nice and quiet the whole trip. Willing even…”
The old man looked up at Rask with searching eyes, clear intelligence and cunning gauging the way he had answered the question. The cavalier’s reputation and his tone gave the man’s answer a distasteful, wretched, and infuriating tone. He had told Auren to place Kendra under Amadeus’ control, at least the inquisitor had some decorum and control.
Rask broke the old lord’s train of thought with a question, “Has your scrying told you anything of the fate of Auren… or my brother?”
Raising his head and suddenly struck with answer to two problems the old man put on a mask of concern, “I’m afraid my dear boy that the news is quite unpleasant.”
Rask paused in mid drink his face clouding with concern.
The old lord moved forward hobbling on his cane and masking his face with sympathy, “Auren was killed at Feldgrau before he could launch his crusade.”
The cavalier ignored the response and hissed through gritted teeth, “And my brother?”
The old lord stepped away from the large man and sighed painfully, “The very same group that has harassed you since Ravengro… the same men and women who bested Auren, caught up with your brother in Illmarsh and killed him before he could retrieve the artifact.”
Rask’s brow furrowed, and his eyes narrowed. The old lord thought surely it must be a trick of light but there might have been a tear running down the cheek of the usually brutal sadistic man.
The old lord walked over and casually put a hand on the cavalier’s shoulder grasping it like a concerned parent as he said, “There is a way that you can be certain of getting your revenge.”
The hulking man looked up and the noble could see in his face that he had hooked him to the plot. Nodding to the younger man he said, “See Lucimar at the library. Tell him you wish to volunteer. Be quick though. They are on their way.”
Rask nodded and downed his drink for resolve and started to leave the mansion behind.
Adivion took a deep but labored breath as he watched the man hurry down the path through the falling sleet. His thoughts turned to Kendra and what he had done to those he cared about to get this far. Remorse struck him hard soon he was wiping away his own tears.
Not much time for regret however. Plans were in motion. All of his sacrifices would come to fruition.
Sounds like he's got the luck of the party's druid. If it keeps, he'll get baleful polymorphed and then lightning bolted to a scorch mark on the floor of the Abbey's alchemist lab.
You should hurry up and get to book 6 so I can steal all your ideas. Just saying.
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4670 AR – Lozeri becomes the first of three counties in Ustalav to eschew noble rule and become Palatinates.
4686 AR – At 20 Adivion attends Lepidstadt University where he excels at magical study. He shows an intense interest in Ustalav’s noble history and fierce loyalty to his family. While there he makes friends with a young Alpon Caromarc, Petros Lorrimor, and Elsbeth Daramid.
4690 AR – While traveling from Ardis to Caliphas Adivion’s father, Mother, and older brother are murdered by peasant bandits who are little more than starving homeless displaced by the war with Barstoi. The elder Adrissant was considered one of the staunchest supporters of crushing the palatinates and re-asserting noble rule in Ustalav.
4693 AR – Adivion flounders in his studies at Lepidstadt University until his old friend Petros convinces him to try his hand at adventure. The two men, in the company of Lorrimor’s reluctant home town priest Albus Grimburrow, travel throughout the nation studying and besting Haunts and supernatural creatures.
4694 AR – The traveler’s discover a cult of the Whispering Way in Carrion Hill who are attempting to use an ancient summoning circle to summon and question a creature from beyond reality. Their hope being that perhaps clues to freeing the Whispering Tyrant might be gleaned. Adivion discovers an ancient copy of a book called the Pneukotic Manuscripts and finds in it a possible venue to finally return the nation of Ustalav to the full control of it’s noble rulers. This would be the last that Petros and Adivion would speak outside of casual correspondence.
4699 AR – Adivion spent the next five years studying the book in an effort to succeed where the cultists had failed. Well aware that the process was warping his mind he sought out the aid of clandestine clerics, a process that once again brought him into contact with the Whispering Way. It was with his final success contacting one of these otherworldly creatures that he learned that this chance meeting had been divine providence.
The creature informed him of a complicated ritual that would allow him to siphon and harness the power of Tar-Baphon, The Whispering Tyrant. This was the power he needed to achieve his goals.
4709 AR – By this time Adivion had managed to worm his way into the Whispering Way’s ranks. Until his interference the cult had start to wane in power until the point that it was considered dangerous yet powerless to achieve it’s ultimate goal. Cunning and manipulative and with the power of the so-called Carrion Crown formula behind him Adivion was given the full backing of the ancient cult while secretly planning to siphon the power for himself and bring the palatinates and any other upstart counties to heel.
4711 AR – Adivion puts a complicated plan in motion in order to steal the ingredients for the formula and complete the ritual.
Notes:
In all the Adivion of my game is a complicated guy. He is using the Whispering Way to achieve his goals but none of those goals are set to explicitly harm anyone. Only those who get in the way or who are dead set on fighting the return of absolute noble rule are putting their lives on the line.
The death of Petros, and all those who might be harmed by his unpredictable tools the whispering way weigh heavily on him.
At no point during Adivion’s actual plan does he mean to harm Kendra (who in my game is the vessel of the Whispering Tyrant's return). In fact it is a central part of his secret plan to subvert the Whispering Way that she never make it to the final ritual.
Although he would never admit it he was secretly jealous of Petros and his daughter when he discovered that they were of such powerful blood.
I’m considering making that fact a possible element in the final battle. Canny PC’s who discover the fact can be used it against him.
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So I really like book 6 but I feel with the way I have shifted the plot in the other books I want to try a different tone for the last installment. Given that I have made Adivion more of an obsessive and passionate villain who despite his strength is over his head and the Whispering Way as an eager cult blinded by the ability to finally manage their greatest goal I’m leaning toward a Gothic Victorian Raiders of the Lost Ark.
For the most part the first segment is the same. The chase etc although I may add in parts where the villains encountered other groups and suffered losses or just signs that they were indeed there to heighten the semblance of a chase. Where my plans get muddy are around Renchurch, which for the most part I want to use but I am considering a different tack.
One of my favorite 2nd Edition D&D modules was the Return to the Tomb of Horrors by Bruce Cordell. I never got the chance to run it to fruition for a group and seeing it on my shelf the other day I considered the possibility of integrating one of my favorite sections ‘The City that Waits’ into Carrion Crown.
The fluff would be essentially that one of the darkest secrets of the defeat of the Whispering Tyrant is that the Crusaders were forced not only to bind him to Gallowspire but they in fact bound the entire city around it (filled with Tar-Baphon’s worshippers) to it as well. Effectively the true prison is a bound and locked Greater Demiplane that is made up of an infinite emptiness and the remains of the city that managed to survive for centuries after it’s imprisonment by the Shining Crusade.
The plane is not only housed with various haunts, undead, and extraplanar creatures that have managed to break in but by the essences of Tar-Baphon himself. The whispers and the waking dream which by themselves are effectively immortal and must be recombined in the Tyrant’s body to actual kill him.
The ritual itself will take place at the foot of the inert Tyrant’s throne in the depths of the city. Unfortunately this layout makes it hard to fit in a lot of Renchurch’s encounters. I’ve got months to make the plans so maybe I can make it work.
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Changing Rask to a cavalier.
Same Except
Order of the Star: Challenge/ +1 to saves while threatening target. Will choose religious PC.
Calling: Provide a +6 bonus for one roll or check. Must declare before using. Use 4 times per day for each different kind of roll
Replace Iron Will with Tactician: Precise Strikes.
If given the chance Rask will use this ability before combat begins.
- Tactic: Upon being attacked or finding out some names Rask's first action is to order his hounds to attack which also entails him using his Tactician ability to give them precise strikes.
Cavalier's Charge: +4 on Charge attacks instead of +2 and no AC loss.
Tactics: Rask hates the group more than anything given their perceived murder of his older brother Amadeus. He is also fully aware of their tactics having been followed by them for months. In my group he will focus all of his attacks on the paladin to negate his ranged abilities.
Shenaulare
- Link (+4 on Handle Animal checks)
- Shenaulare is Rask's bonded mount from life twisted by dark magic. She will not abandon him in combat.
- I think the advanced template pretty much covers the boosted stats of Rask's mount.
- Wearing +1 Leather Barding
Hounds
- 4 instead of 3.
The Order of the Palatine Eye
- Gossip at the Order meeting should be about the disappearance of Halloran Idriss a notable and powerful paladin of Iomedae who was investigating rumors of disappearances in the region.
Considering making the Esoteric Vaults a more dangerous place to do research than just a simple library. Ancient forgotten safeguards like trapped or Cursed books, a ghostly librarian who is so fastidious and devoted to the library that the Order lets her remain.
Etc..
The Whispering Way Hideout
- Bone Devil Trap
No change.
Druid in the Park
- Merrick Sais
Considering adding a Quickwood to encounter.
- Enslaved Spawn
No change. If it is night and enough noise is being made with the battle above (Lightning bolts etc) then these spawn may send one of their number to investigate. If they discover their mistress in danger they all come to her aid.
- Vampire Underworld
Considering changing the Vampire Undercity into a more lawful enterprise. I always enjoyed VtM and throwing in the interplay between various clans with distinct differences would be a lot of fun.
I'm not sure I might like to do more with the vampiric underworld. Really contrast their 'civility' with just how horrific they can be.
Ex: Victorian noble vampires sitting around with delicate glasses full of blood with the utmost decorum watching charmed humans engage in carnal activities because they simply don't experience that kind of thing anymore.
Open air markets where vampire hawkers 'sell' captured mortals for blood etc..
Blood Junkies
- No Change. I may specialize their spell lists to a degree but this encounter has the kind of action economy that doesn't need much change.
Tying Up Loose Ends
- This encounter seems largely pointless (especially given the presence of Ravens Head which in my game detects undead). Perhaps have the vampires disguise it as a simple mugging by local Caliphas toughs? A group of Guild Initiates (4) lead by a Freelance Thief from NPC Codex. Halfway through the fight the vampires start bombing the alley from nearby rooftops killing remaining rogues and hitting characters alike.
To Catch a Killer
- Play it by ear.
The Nobleman's Stitch
- This fight is dynamic and basically comes to include the entire house if the alarm is raised (likely) except for the Nabassu, Ghouls, and Mimics. Charmed Guards change Alertness for Improved Crit Longsword. Employ hit and run tactics, trying not to give the group time to rest.
Mannequins 3
Nabassu 3
Ghouls 8
Charmed Guards 6
Enforcers 4
Spawn 3
Radvir 1
Enforcers 2
Coffin Mimics 3
Keeping track of the fast healing alone in this encounter is going to be trying. The attacks should happen in rapid succession.
Abbey
Considering having the 'stable hand' have a conversation with one of the players jokingly asking him what he would want if he had/she had his greatest wish and then granting it before attacking the group. Likely they will be too paranoid for this to work.
Definitely try and get the group inside the stables before hitting them with reverse gravity to add the swarm to the fight. Thinking of having him teleport out when down to 80 hp to 'muster the troops'.
to be continued...
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After the return of their comrades (the fighter and the witch) the group investigated the portal to the skum tunnels and discovered the shocking details of Illmarsh and the Fostering Pact. Skum and the shambling mound proved less than a challenge for them but the colour out of space was another situation entirely.
Thanks to a 20 rolled by the rogue's shadow companion on knowledge dungeoneering they had some details about the colour. They would almost certainly have died if the paladin had not known to put axiomatic on his bow. Several group members were one touch away from being ash. Also, the fighter was driven insane and is now, contrary to her earlier fear of fire mezmerized by it and has dreams where green fire tries to convince her that her comrades are shady backstabbing upstagers who are holding her back.
Returning above the group discovered that the man who had been in charge of their reward had gone missing. With little else to do, and with the town in hiding to avoid their wrath they chose to visit Horace Croon at the Lonely Quay where he was hiding a woman that the town was about to condemn to the rocks and the Tulby infant. With their arrival they delivered yet another lost soul, Fabia's long lost sister who had been among the skum her entire life.
After revealing the details of their investigations Croon demanded that they let him deliver them to the Skum tunnels at the bottom of the bay. It would turn out that the group was about to meet their greatest foe: Mechanics.
The submersable was only big enough for four of them so they were forced to have one of their number ride on the outside. The alchemist donned the helm of underwater action and brewed potions of beast shape, and a beast shape tattoo to prepare fully ready to take the pressure damage and offset it with body changes at set intervals. It turns out that water pressure can do a lot of damage.
Half way down when the gutaki attacked the alchemist was already pretty badly hurt. This encounter, which a lot of people on these boards indicated was usually a cake-walk, played hell with my group. I managed the 3D nature of the combat, with only moderate stress but the group continually failed their swim checks except the paladin and the alchemist who both had swim speeds. The fighter, under stress and unable to see due to a lack of light had a hallucination and nearly chopped out one of the viewing windows of the submersible. The rogue was nauseated by inky blood.
Ultimately the group was badly hurt in this encounter but when the rogue's shadow drained her to 1 Str the devilfish tried to offer them a deal for the Seasage Effigy, a deal which they ignored. She still managed to escape by jetting 180 feet away.
The skum sentries. This fight, due to very poor tactical decisions, very nearly did them in. At this depth the Alchemist was already hurting a great deal from a number of failed pressure checks. At fifty feet from bottom he chose to try and swim to the cave entrance by himself. 25% chance that the skum see him? They do.
Instead of returning to the group the alchemist fled into the cave. Those familiar with that cave might see the problem with him going in by himself. The rest of the group jumps out to try and save him with the paladin and rogue choosing to exit the submersible and swim and the fighter and witch teleporting to the cave entrance. The problem now? Split party. Another problem? The paladin who is typically the heaviest damage dealer is forced to use a weapon he is not specialized in (trident) and as a result the group suffers.
Three skum went to fight at the tunnel mouth, while three chose to attack the rogue, paladin, and shadow. Blows are traded for three rounds with the group taking more damage than I thought they would. At this point the dimensional shamblers appear in the cave with the solitary alchemist. Now the first round they just wail on him. Outside the witch goes down and has to use her cards to get back to 0 hp.
The alchemist is in bad straights so in an effort to avoid being a dick I decide that the shamblers, still angry about their summoning decide to have some sadistic fun with Anton. They are going to shift him to a very inhospitable plane and watch him die slowly. So they grapple him once, he uses his beast shape tattoo to shift into an octopus and gets away. While trying to wriggle back through the portal one of the shamblers grabs him back up and then tries to plane shift with him. Anton passes his save.
By this time the group is whittling down the last of the sentries. The remaining shambler takes a few swings at him but seeing that he is about to be outnumbered and without his plane shifted comrade he whispers something to a grappled Anton in Aklo and dim doors away. They will be back.
The group, many of whom were about to drown, made their way into the tunnel with Anton and made their way through the tunnels. I chose to take the line 'these skum only attack if disturbed' very literally and if the group chose not to enter the rooms they could avoid that combat. They did and found themselves in a heavily modified conversation with Oog'gggl (who I called Oogy).
I made Oogy a very excitable, and shockingly accurate, prophet. The group was surprised to find out that he knew who they all were and was thoroughly interested in how it was that they appeared to be constantly defying and re-writing fate (a direct effect of Desna's blessing) and happily told them about all the times that they were certain to die when they managed to defy everything. He also revealed cryptic stories about what they were sure to face next and tempered everything by warning them about 'spoilers'.
He also revealed that they were in fact there to kill him and he was extremely excited about it. The session ended with Oogy declaring that it was time to get to the action and star shrieking to bring in the Mi-Go in the chambers to the south.
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The fight with Oogy and Mi-Go turned out to a continuation of the trend of extremely difficult battles. I think that the majority of the problem was my grasp of how the 'GRAB' ability works for creatures. Since the Mi-Go have grab I finally ended up ruling that if one of their attacks hits AND grabs then they do their ability damage and have to wait until their next turn to release the grapple and start attacking again.
The party was once again split by Oogy's tactical use of Black Tentacles and instead of having them arrive when it would be safe for the players to battle them in waves I had the Mi-Go enter as groups every turn. This became a serious problem as they surrounded individual players and tore them to shreds.
Oogy himself claimed a kill when he hit the witch with a scorching ray at random and dropped her well below her negative threshold. She had no cards remaining so Anaisia was killed. Our group's fighter has always had a difficult grasp on the game but this fight marked the point when she learned about Great Cleave.
At that turn, the Mi-Go fell in droves before her axe and effectively saved the thoroughly savaged group.
I chose not to have the Gug enter the fight and when they discovered him he was quickly burned down, largely by the paladin and his smite.
A cleric/rogue dhampir joined the group (a test subject of the Mi-Go) and the group continued without rest into the southern chamber.
The fight with the Shub priest, his two guards, and two of the dimensional shamblers from earlier went better than suspected. The fighter, already insane and afflicted with a mania that flipped her fear of fire into obsession was forced to make a will save when the priests summoned water elementals inexplicably arrived as fire elementals in the shape of her long dead mother. (Shub had a hand in granting these spells and recognized a chance to sow chaos with her insanity by sending fire creatures rather than water)
The group came out victorious when the alchemist used his ring of the ram to force the fleeing priest into a roof stalactite, impaling him.
The group discovered the room full of brains and were terrified to discover not only the brain of the mayor but of one of their former comrades (Utuu the priestess of pharasma) within the chamber.
The fight with the two mi-go and the dimensional shambler in the grotto was quick and brutal signifying a return to normal butchery by the group.
The final struggle with the Dark Young took a toll but not in dead characters. The number of insane party members jumped from one to three.
The alchemist, who had to this point been thoroughly engrossed in reading the Book of Abtruse Geometries, developed a fascination with the Mi-Go and their methods. He has become obsessed with dissection and understanding the function of bodies (especially living ones) and collecting bodies in a 'body bag of holding' for further study.
A barbarian character, summoned by the priest for a just a few sessions to accommodate a visiting player, was made a psycopath. I informed them in our last session that when his summoning ended he returned to his village and proceeded to butcher the entire populace in complete madness.
Our latest session consisted of buying and selling (in which I used some fan made haggling rules to make it more interesting) and backstory elements. The group made a final visit to Illmarsh where the found the populace mourning their priests, burning down Horace Croon's house, and promising to inform the constabulary in Thrushmoor of their crimes.
Traveling to Thrushmoor the buying and selling commenced. The priest character who joined the group in the tunnels handed over Raven's Head to the party rogue with little explanation.
Since I changed the mace's backstory to include that the Archbishop of the church basically sacrificed his life to become the psyche of the item the church now treats her like an important part of the church and from time to time will simply call her 'Archbishop' in reference to her new symbiotic relationship with the mace.
Leaving Thrushmoor behind, after a brief teleport to Lepidstadt, the group encountered the Knights of Ozem investigating the plane shift point of General Sey'Lok along the road.
(This encounter was written out and discussed by Rakshaka in one of his threads)
The fight with the Dullahan was quick and bloody but the group was never truly in danger. It really offered a chance for the group to see how Raven's Head changed the dynamic of encounters with undead.
Arriving in Caliphas allowed more opportunity for hero worship of random people who have heard of their exploits. I also introduced our alchemist's father and hinted that the fifth book would center personally around him.
A lot of story elements are in play during the week long downtime I gave the group while their search for the whispering way goes cold.
1.) The rogue is allowed to meet with the Holy Mother of the church of Pharasma where she and Raven's Head discussed the rumors of possible encounters with vampires (they had heard from Oogy) and the future given the reappearance of Raven's Head and the Whispering Way's nefarious activities. During the week she goes on a crime spree in the city illiciting rumors that an undead shade is robbing the noble houses.
2.) The paladin is invited to a gala thrown by Countess Caliphvaso where he hears rumors about her struggles with a new property, the ash killer, and the robberies mentioned above.
3.) The alchemist tries to get a grasp on his insanity. His mind keeps telling him to sneak out at night and search the streets for potential subjects for his operations and studies. There is the possibility given a few choice failed saves that there might be two killers roaming the streets of Caliphas at night.
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Below are the alterations I made to the enforcers. I didn't use full stat blocks. Effectively this crossbowman constitutes a variant. I don't think it's too cheesed against the players. I thought the vampire militia could use some spicing up.
Human vampire fighter (crossbowman) 7
Init +10
DEFENSE
AC 28, touch 18, flat-footed 20 (+3 armor, +6 Dex, +2 dodge,
+6 natural, +1 shield)
Melee +1 longsword +13/+13/+8 (1d8+5/19–20)
slam +13/+8 (1d4+5 plus energy drain)
Ranged (DA, Vital Strike) +1 cunning heavy crossbow +14 (2d10+10/18–20 x 2)
Ranged (No DA, Vital Strike) SAA +16 (2d10+10/18-20 x 2)
Note: Always readies action. Ignores Dex Bonus to AC
Special Attacks Improved Deadshot (EX), Crossbow Expert
STATISTICS
Str 18, Dex 21, Con —, Int 12, Wis 14, Cha 20
Base Atk +7; CMB +12; CMD 28
Feats AlertnessB, Weapon Focus: Heavy X-Bow, Combat Reflexes B, Point Blank Shot, Dodge B, Improved Initiative B, Iron Will, Lightning
Reflexes B, Precise Shot, Rapid Reload, Weapon Spec: Heavy X-Bow, ToughnessB, Vital Strike, Deadly Aim, Improved Critical: Heavy X-Bow
Skills Acrobatics +12, Stealth +19
1.) I am making the vampire society beneath Caliphas extremely lawful. Highest crime? Killing another vampire. Second highest? Killing a mortal. That doesn't mean they don't incredibly horrible things to mortals... they do. You don't mess with your food supply. Most interlopers are dominated by the Order of the Veil (Below) and sent back to human society.
2.) When Luvick (who in my game is head of a council of clan leaders) hires the PC's they become 'effectively' part of his clan. This means that if they break laws of vampire society and do not answer for their crimes they besmirch his name (effectively raising his ire).
3.) Dueling is a legal way of solving disputes between individuals. You may see where this is going.
4.) I added a casino / tavern / house of vampiric delights to the area. Vampiric entertainment usually centers around watching humans engage in activities they can no longer partake in... this can range from the mundane to the horrifying. I also added a vampire who moonlights as one of the greatest gamblers in Caliphas who will challenge the players to a game of cards. Consistently winning hands against him will raise his ire and if he is given any reason to suspect they are cheating he will challenge the player to a one on one duel for honor.
5.) Order of the Veil: Enforcers (those who patrol the cavern and those who serve the antagonist) are specially trained to assure that snuff out all attempts to prove that vampires exist.
Dot
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The Nobleman’s Stitch
A rolling combat situation for sure. The group nullified two of the vampires at the ambush. The other two have had 20 minutes to recover.
I’m adding some more powerful magical items to the encounters both to up the treasure count and make the combats more difficult.
1.) Mannequins act as normally.
2.) When awoken the charmed guards take two rounds to get out to the balcony when three of them will immediately start shooting at the party with crossbows. The other three will head down stairs to intercept them. Supplemented by one of the Mannequins if possible.
3.) Demons and ghouls stay put. They have been charged with defending the warehouse. This narrow distinction allows them to gleefully ignore any other sounds of combat.
4.) 2 Crossbow Variant Enforcers at the bottom of the stairs using thick turned over tables as cover. BBG over the door spider climbing and in stealth. Three spawn rush forward to hold up the group. Supplemented by one of the Mannequins if possible.
5.) Mimics as they are. Although if BBG manages to escape and heal he will jump PC’s here.
The Glabrezu and his Shell
I had the idea a few weeks ago when I was considering the encounter with the powerful demon at the Abbey and also listening to an audio version of Flowers for Algernon.
I am planning to change the Glabrezu’s disguise to a ‘simple’ local boy named Charlie who insists that he is allowed to clean the stables. His uncle spoke with the caretakers and as a result he is paid a 5 silver a week to muck out the stables and sweep the walk ways. Unfortunately his uncle died and now he lives in the corner of the stables.
The thing is that the boy isn’t just a disguise per the spell. His body and persona has literally been possessed by the Glabrezu who now lives inside him. This will inevitably lead to a horrifying moment when ‘Charlie’ realizes what’s happening to him and screams for help before the Glabrezu explodes out of his skin.
I may also give him an amulet of nondetection to avoid the paladin unseating his ruse in less than 10 seconds. Even better if I am going to make possession a thing perhaps I could make it extremely hard to root out demons or other creatures with detect evil.. add a perception check to the detect to make it more difficult.
The most interesting element can be found around Charlie’s bed a group of pieces of colored parchment folded to look like stars that have been hung from wooden grillwork above his bed. If someone asks he will explain that each of them represents a wish… His wishes. He then hands a piece of paper to one of the PC’s and asks if they would like to make a wish.
If they do so then the Glabrezu tears apart his human disguise as he grants their wish in the most horrifying manner possible.
The Blood Knight
In my game the pinhead Aleece that was killed at the beginning of TotB was a victim of a horrible ritual where the Whispering Way allowed the phase spider to fill her with poison and then harvested her spirit for some kind of horrible experiment. I have decided that the Blood Knight is that ritual.
I had originally intended to use this for the giant spider in book 3 but this seems like an even better chance.
As the giant spider the blood knight will have the ability to detect thoughts and conjure up blood elementals filled with poison to fight the group. Each of these elementals will resemble one of the characters lost to the group during their adventures. Tim the Archer, Dryden the Druid (and animal companion), Anaisia the Witch, and Utuu the Cleric of Pharasma.
I still have to devise the stats for them but I’m thinking a variation on level 6 creatures from the NPC Codex with DR 5/Bludgeoning. If they hit they have a chance of causing the same poison effect as the Blood Knight itself.
As before since the Knight’s body has been married with Aleece’s mind there is a chance of using Diplomacy to talk her into her final rest rather than fighting her. Starts hostile. Attempting to be diplomatic with Aleece requires a standard action. Every step toward friendly she is made one of the elementals facing the group vanishes.
The Last Witch
I’ve kind of come to terms with the fact that the last witch is going to get creamed in record time. I’m gonna keep trying to think of way of not having her fight alone up until the final combat but it seems unlikely.
A horde of low level Undead?
Have her Command Undead on the fallen Paladin? Without some buffer the paladin is going to smite her into a pretty stain in seconds.
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As a parting gift A.A. gave Radvir and each of the witch sisters a seventh level scroll of Corruption Resistance.
The group has not been subtle at all and before A.A. his lieutenant was scrying on the group learning their weaknesses. The paladin's ability to level just about anything with his smite concerns them so he has started to take measures.
From this point forward every major encounter (especially those with a single target) will entail NPC's with a CL7 Scroll of Corruption Resistance.
I'm also considering making the spell Unwilling Shield a part of most spellcasters list from now on. The first time he blows up a team mate with his smite he might take pause before smiting something.
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The group makes it’s way through the heavy wrought iron gates, bearing a gilded sigil of a shield embossed with a noble wolf on four part shield, of the ancient estate. On the street outside a vendor with a cart calls out to passersby to sell beverages to the passersby.
“Magically heated Cacao drink to warm you on your way! Only five pennies per cup!”
Many of them ignore him and bunch deeper into their heavy coats intent on getting out of the cold as soon as possible.
The path up to the old manor house, it’s windows barred and dark is flanked by what must be a beautiful garden in more agreeable climes. The house is dark and quiet and shows no sign of habitation. Fabia floats in her graceful way to the door, the shadows of the house obscuring her as she kneels. Out rolls the worn and well used kit of tools that she acquired only two months ago when you all first met.
Federico avoids the light of the sun and drifts through the wall. She makes quick work of the large oak doors. A quick glance over her shoulder and signal at Chris, Hale, and Avram shows that it only locked and not trapped. A few deft movements of her hands and the simple lock clicks audibly. She ducks away from the door to join a skulking Anton in the shadows
Hale moves forward and nudges the door open with the toe of her armored boot with Chris ready at her flank. Avram stood behind wasting no time in raising his bow and leveling an arrow at the slowly opening door. Gone are the days of rushing in blindly and without care. This chase has made cautious professionals of them all.
The stench of death wafts in from the shadowed manor house. No sounds of preparation or hasted spellcasting echo out to greet them. The only sounds are the continued passing of people on the street beyond the high walls of the estate.
The foyer and hall, richly appointed with dark wood and brass fixtures stretches out in front of them, a large staircase angling upward toward the second floor. Signs of hasty evacuation appear everywhere with toppled furniture and voids on the walls.
Immediately before the stairwell, placed prominently on an oaken stand is a singular artifact of interest. A white ceramic bust of beautiful craftsmanship stares back at the group. The visage of Kendra Lorrimor, her eyes wide and haunted, her mouth parted in a silent scream silently accuses them.
A quick search of the old manor reveals little of interest save the bodies of the servants. Their deaths appear to have been painless, someone going to great care to lay the bodies out in comfortable fashion and cover them respectfully.
Fabia and Anton moved forward to investigate the bust. Finding no traps the alchemist reached out to touch the bust. The pure porcelain surface crumbled like that simulacrum of Kendra so many months into a small pile of pristine snow. Buried within it, waxy and bearing the same seal as the wrought iron gates outside is a scroll.
Further care is taken before finally the seal is cracked and the scroll rolled out:
Dearest Troublesome Friends,
If all our plans have been for naught then you are likely standing in the foyer of my home perusing this letter. I hope you will appreciate that I, and to a greater degree my associates, haven’t left any lingering surprises for you. After all the last leg of your journey, as I am sure that you will not be inclined to leave well enough alone, will be sufficiently harrowing.
We all need a breather now and then.
I have set off for the final destination with concerns of your pursuit. My few remaining comrades among the cult reassure me that the witches and maybe even their blowhard of an errand boy will be well equipped to destroy you and further cement ultimate victory. Having dealt with you and having scryed your activities for these many days I am dubious. As a result I went to great expense to impede you further and counseled our agents on your tactics.
Ever the hotheaded brute, Bolivar Trask, even ‘volunteered’ himself to stop you. Who was I to deny him his revenge?
I have to admit I am intrigued oh dear readers. Your tenacity and resourcefulness has clearly outmatched my expectations. I do however, fear for your future.
If you had only taken my advice those months ago and returned to your homes and your lives then you would not be hurtling towards your doom with misguided notions of heroic victory.
It is my sincere hope that we never must meet. I will not relish destroying you. If it is to be so then I shall greet you at the summit with a heavy heart and all the strength I can muster.
Lord Adivion Adrissant
Viscount of Cape Adris
First of His Line
Magister of Magic Emeritus of Lepidstadt University
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1.) The Witchgate Grove
If party is exceptionally powerful considering adding a pair of advanced rotgrub swarms to the trees themselves.
The rotgrubs have infested the trees and since they are immune to hallucinogens and the trees themselves have no way to kill them. The grubs simply subsist on the trees not killing them. They wait for the ailing hangman trees to grapple confused enemies and then seethe out to cover the bewildered prey for a much more precious meal.
2.) The Wyrmway Smear
I’ve considered making the Linnorm’s cave volcanic. Since it’s breath is magma and the creature itself is immune to fire it wouldn’t hurt to place a few lava flows in the cavern. It would only impede the players unless they did some kind of preparation.
I also considered making the witchgate drop the players in a huge underground cavern (that happened to branch off to the Linnorm’s layer) and making the same cavern a dangerous shortcut through the volcanic mountain to reach the other side of Vyrlich quickly (spurred on by fears that the ritual will be occurring soon).
Place an elder lightning elemental (with levels in sorcerer) on top of the mountain attended by a court of lesser lightning elementals. Players trying to fly over the mountain without both announcing themselves and paying tribute are attacked. Possibility for roleplaying with a party that speaks Auran and offers tribute.
Only accepted tribute? Destroy the Linnorm in the caverns below which often clashes with them for control of the mountain. Or kill them…
3.) The Knights of Ozem
So when I’m bored I tend to watch horrible movies. One of those horrible movies is Season of the Witch, starring Nic Cage. When I originally read the synopsis for this encounter I thought, “Wouldn’t it be awesome to expand this into something similar to Season of the Witch… except less horrible?!
So my changes will include…
A) The witch is being transported not just by chains but in a large cold iron cage on the back of a wagon.
B) I have exciting and very specific rules for possession (which may have already been done in Paizo official materials) but I’m throwing my own into the ring. I guess I should write them in…
a. Possession is only voluntary. It can be coerced however.
b. It is more difficult to detect a possessing creature with spells such as detect evil. Not only must the spell be cast but a perception check must be made against the creatures stealth +10 to narrow the evil to the individual.
c. A possessed creature can willingly allow it’s host to gain control. It must succeed a contested will save to wrest control. While the spirit is in control it’s +10 stealth bonus is forfeited.
d. A possessed person must make a fortitude save v.s. 10 + the creatures charisma mod per day of suffer 1d4 con drain. When the host reaches 0 the spirit has consumed their soul and may emerge from the skin free of the confines of regular summoning.
e. A spirit may use all of it’s spell-like abilities while in possession including auras and the regular abilities of the host.
C) So after the Knights are convinced that the group aren’t spies or undead horrors come to free the witch they invite them into their camp with a warning. All of the knights are sick with some strange malady. They claim that one of their number was lured into touching the old woman’s hand and is now suffering a terrible plague (An affect of the twisting power of Vyrlich’s very essence and the Leukodaemon’s natural contagion ability.) This is terrifying to the Knights as most of them are paladins and baffled that they are even able to get sick. The disease has spread to the other Knight’s and they are seriously considering simply killing the witch to end the disease and atoning later.
D) The problem is that several of the Knights are not entirely convinced that the old varisian woman is a demon. She was found wandering naked and alone down the road several miles from Wayleaf. She has never given the outward expression of being malevolent. She simply begs to be released and cries for the souls of her tormentors.
E) Anyway the Knights ask the group to travel with them if separately to avoid their illness and try to get the witch to an abandoned temple of Iomedae in Wayleaf where an exorcism can take place.
F) The journey will take two days and the old woman has 9 remaining constitution.
G) To make matters worse the Leukodaemon is using telepathy to bluff the sickest paladins/knights into thinking that their comrades have become corrupted.
H) Can the PC’s get the Knights and their charge to the temple and exorcise her demon (which they must then fight) or will they have to watch several paladins fall as they kill an old woman to save themselves?
I) Optional encounters? Perhaps.
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Witherleaf
a. Imagined as a continuation of the previous encounter. The witchfires (which I am invisioning as the same witchfires from Ashes at Dawn) may well attack the paladins and party when they reach the cathedral hoping to both disrupt their ritual and curry favor with a powerful demon.
Shelter from the Storm Haunt
Yeah I'm a Dylan fan.
Knowledge Local (35) or Knowledge Religion (30)
Long ago at the height of the Shining Crusade a small group of the Whispering Tyrant’s forces swept through a small village killing every man woman and child save three men.
The Sheriff, a young charismatic leader and skilled warrior, was filled with unspeakable rage at the loss of his family and immediately suggested traveling to join the Crusade in its struggle.
The Pastor, even tempered and reasonable, was paralyzed in the attack. He agreed to join the Sherrif in his pilgrimage and was confined to a mount for the duration of the journey.
The Gravedigger, a simple-minded man in his thirties, was traumatized more than the rest during the attack. He mutely followed the sheriff toward Virlych clutching a twisted and broken horn that he played at all the funerals (and weddings) in town to his chest.
Driven by the sheriff’s growing madness and obsession with vengeance the small group got lost in one of Virlych’s horrible storms. Despite the protests of the pastor the group wandered lost until they succumbed to the elements.
Manifestation: The party encounters the haunt during a terrible storm. A young man in a heavy coat, wearing a badge, a frail looking man in Pharasman robes on the back of a horse, and a mute figure clutching a bundle to his chest approach. The man in the coat comes forward and tells them it isn’t safe to remain outdoors, and he knows a place to take shelter.
Perception is DC 32 to hear distant sounds of a horn playing
Spells in Effect: Charm Monster, Mass DC 22 (CL 13) / Control Weather
HP: 26
The sheriff leads the group into the poltergeist storm. Every minute that they travel and suffer the effects the pastor and the sheriff begin to argue louder and more violently. Everyone under the sheriff’s sway supports his continued suggestion to continue on.
Destruction: Diplomacy (DC 30 v.s. Hostile) checks directed at the Gravedigger (the true center of the haunt) damage the overall haunt for 1 pt of damage for every point over 30 achieved. Until the haunt’s hp is removed or the disposition of the haunt reaches friendly it remains active. When the conditions have been met the gravedigger blows his horn and the storm ends. The sheriff and pastor turn and stare at him in shock and then they all vanish quietly.
Renchurch Changes
a. The tantamount changes I intend to make to Renchurch are to change it from a bastion of the Whispering Way to an effective Indiana Jones style tomb where they have hidden an artifact that acts as a portal to a demiplane they created as an effective think-tank to both bring back the Whispering Tyrant and hide their most precious artifact… a single finger bone of Tar Baphon himself. The Gray Friar (altered to be a cleric who started the game with the group but lost his mind on the death of Kendra) needs the bone to complete his side of the ritual. It’s only when he and his retinue enter the demiplane that they discover…
b. The undead cultists left in the demiplane to find a solution have suffered a mutiny of sorts and the majority of them have changed allegiance to Zon Kuthon. Over the centuries these clerics and alchemists have conducted a dizzying and unbelievable number of rituals on each other to fully understand pain. When the Grey Friar arrived with his retinue of Ju Ju Zombies and Kendra (who is the focus of the ritual in my game) the priests were fascinated by the young woman. A deal was struck allowing the ritual to continue if the Gray Friar would bring more living victims to the Demiplane… as continued experimentation on undead bores them. As a show of good faith the Friar gave them several of his novices which the party can find in various states of tortured existence on their way through.
c. Levels: I somehow plan to make Renchurch three levels. Level 1 I don’t want to change much. Level 2 is the actual tomb which the Whispering Way has infiltrated and set up a camp inside. This camp includes at least one retinue of renchurch novices, the vampire, the mummies, the liches, revenants, and a majority of the haunts.
d. Level 3 is the demiplane (entered by solving a Hellraiser style puzzle box which I will have to figure out the stats and traps for) which will include a variant group of cenobites, renchurch novice groups I changed into vivisectionist alchemist ju ju zombies, the demon and mishtu, the stone golems, the fly, the rot grub infestation and maybe the dead water haunt… Of course the Tyrant’s Whispers are still there.
e. Changes to Cenobites: Darkness/Evil Domains, +1 conductive spiked chains, spell alterations. Not much else.
f. Juju Zombie Alchemists (Vivisectionist) level 6 or 7? Added metallic implements from centuries of painful experimentation which might modify damage/cause bleed effects.
Personally I think the Alchemist and Witch are a bad class selection for this campaign. I'd rather have a Wizard so as to have all those high Knowledge checks and potent spells with little need for preparation. And, I think a Ranger would have made a nice addition.
But, that's just IMHO.
So far, the only changes I made to the game were at the outset back in Haunting at Harrowstone. Gave them 900gp to start, and allowed them to go into debt to buy a single magic item.
What did you do for attributes? Me, I had mine roll 4d6 and take the top 3, with a minimum result of 11 before racial adjustments.
Personally I think the Alchemist and Witch are a bad class selection for this campaign. I'd rather have a Wizard so as to have all those high Knowledge checks and potent spells with little need for preparation.
One of the great things about having an alchemist in a Carrion Crown party is that several major NPCs in Trial of the Beast are alchemists, and the investigation and trial hinge on alchemical evidence such as the extract vial and the bleach container, so a PC alchemist connects thematically to the narrative. It also makes loot such as Vorkstag’s formula book and the alchemical weapons at the works more valuable to the party.
The same should be true for a witch in Ashes to Ashes, which features NPC witch antagonists. We’re about to start that installment of the AP. I’m planning to have the Dublesse sisters and Oothi’s familiar (an addition I’m making) interact with my PC changeling witch from the first day she’s in Caliphas, feeling her out as a peer and potential ally or rival. They might swap spells, or invite her to their coven. The alchemist PC’s player had to leave the campaign, alas; I would dearly love to have had him as a connection to the alchemical plot elements of Ashes to Ashes.
I suppose that neither class has Knowledge (Religion) in class, so they’re missing possibly the most valuable knowledge for this AP. But that’s true of many classes. My alchemist PC took the Carrion Crown AP trait Teacher’s Pet to get Knowledge (Religion) in-class and boosted, and my witch PC took it for Knowledge (local). This combined with their high intelligence scores meant they’ve failed few important checks.
I admire all the work you’ve done, Tybid. Customizing the path to fit our PC’s backstories is by far the best use of our prep time as GMs--cool to see how you fit Ashes to Ashes to your alchemist, and cool to see how you’ve made an ex-PC a villain in Renchurch.
Were I you, I’d theme the Renchurch cultists in their demiplane closer to Urgathoan religion--switching horses mid-AP to Zon-Kuthon or kyton wannabes seems like it might muddle more than it adds. But sometimes having a strong emotional response to your material, as you clearly do to this (a Hellraiser fan, perhaps?) is more important than continuity.
Good luck!
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My players if they found this thread should stay out of this spoiler tag...
So the encounters and trials of the Abbey culminating with the completion of book 5 this evening have left some... problems going into the final chapter of Carrion Crown.
Initially the group struck off their arrival at the Abbey by choosing to investigate the well using the Shadowdancer's amplified companion Federico. The shadow easily noticed the secret door and elated to have found a backdoor into the depths they bypassed all of the encounters I had prepared for and charged straight towards others which were somewhat murky.
Players? Am I right?
The paladin also failed his climb check and fell into the icy water of the well, finding Oothi's skull but leaving it where it lie. Entering the catacombs the group met with Hallaran and he offered his services and aid to them in stopping the witches.
My modified Blood Knight... kind of worked? They had some trouble killing her but ultimately emerged victorious. That fight flowed into the brawl with Aisa... who I wasn't prepared to run. The paladin dispelled her fog and despite dropping one of her gems she was pretty quickly surrounded. Finally she was forced to dimension door away.
The group searched for her and ultimately ignored the wood golems (mistake) and headed into the Bayside Cavern.
Oothi told Aisa of the naga's duplicitous attempt to deal with the adventurers and the vampiric witch chose to let the ensuing fight with the naga weaken the party before scooping up the wood golems and attacking the group from behind.
This time I was more prepared but ultimately they misted her and destroyed her golems.
After staking her and throwing her body into the ocean the group decided to climb back up the well and investigate the winery. Inside the witchflames (which I made all male) invited them to get the skull and help them perform a ritual to destroy it.
The group ignored this offer and made their way into the base floor of the cathedral where they encountered the demon and the six dominated guards. The demon knew far too much about them and even offered them tantalizing offers in the forms of a wish. The attacked and killed him and the majority of his guards, far more lax in their efforts to do non-lethal damage this time.
Climbing up the bell tower one of the spider swarms attempted to lure them into the third floor but they were far more interested in facing the final witch.
HETNA
This witch turned out to be at least a little more effective than her sister in her first outing but ultimately didn't do much damage before she was taken out of the fight. Here is where the problem lies.
The group used the staff of cackling wrath to turn Hetna into a cat. She then proceeded to fly away and take all of her incredibly lucrative loot with her. I had long ago made the decision that without certain rituals Oothi's bones were indestructible so it was a somewhat better decision for her to run and come back than to stay and get murdered in cat form.
I now have a group that is severely depleted on loot due to her running away.
Interesting wrinkle, the rogue was fascinated by Aisa's cat Nightfang and (due to her player being out) was spending time sneaking around in the catacombs looking for it.
Well, I decided that she found it... or more accurately she found Hetna now in cat form and that the witch will now be tagging along with the group as the rogue's new pet in hopes of swiping back both the skull (which they have in a bag) and Oothi's bones (which they have in another bag).
Anyways the group killed the Invisible Stalkers (the diciest encounter) and then decided to investigate the tower where the alchemist set off the weakened floor trap...
Options try a very difficult reflex save to jump out of the way or a very easy one to grab the bell ropes...
Bell trap set off.
Those two traps nearly killed several people.
Finally they returned to the winery to tell the witchflames that they had killed the witches and refused to tell them where the skull was...
Fight ended with the witchflames in retreat.
For anyone who has read this far how would you make up for the incredible loss of wealth that occurred with Hetna's deception?
Esoteric Order FTW? But seriously, if you are using the organization, how about prepping the PCs for Virlych with the wealth equivalent of Hetna from the coffers of their order? Afterall, the organization has already shown interest in stopping the WW, so giving the PCs the equivalent of Hetna's treasure in consumables should lessen the sting of missing out on her loot. Items I could see would be scrolls of Breath of Life, Death Ward, Raise Dead, Restoration, and the like.
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That is actually a pretty good suggestion. I hadn't really thought about the Order since they left them in their dust at the Harraday.
Luvick is also giving them a reward as well so they may well fill the lost gap.
Of course they may well get suspicious of the rogue and her cat and that treasure might find the way into their hands anyway. I'm hoping not. I want them to wake up in Ravengro after their fight with Adivion and find the bones gone all in the hands of the rogue's cat who has wandered off to resurrect another BBEG.
I'm gonna have to do myself some research to figure out what the Order can give them.
Thanks for the suggestion! :) How did your party's fight with the traitor turn out?
Also, thank you Keep Calm and Carrion, I think I have decided to leave them as Urgathoans. As looking up some stuff about Kuthites they don't seem to fit really well at all.
I haven't run it yet. Our game is on hold until September due to vacations and other things, but once I do I will post something. It will be interesting to see how my Mythic PCs deal with the traitor and friends, especially when I give him some additional reinforcements.
Oh, I also like what you're doing with the Witchgates. Definitely inspiring me for the next module as far as ideas for expanding them. Frankly between those encounters, the weird weather, and Tyrant's Whispers, I should actually be able to challenge my experienced PCs.
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Some text I'm working on for the individual haunts at Renchurch.
You stand in a dark room, small and fragile as you look helplessly toward a nearby window. A young man's face scarred and bloody emphatically begs you to let him in. He steals a glance over his shoulder and turns back to you, only you and howls with his muted voice to be let in. Your mind briefly returns to those stolen moments with him. The fear of being caught. The excitement. You briefly consider letting him in.
Your thoughts are interuppted when a soft hand rests on your shoulder.
The mother superior, in her ceremonial robes with a silver symbol of the Lady of Graves on her breast gives you a smile and shakes her head. You turn back to see the face of your beloved twisted in glee and melting into a green unformed visage with a lolling tongue stained with blood.
You turn away with the holy mother and back to your sisters kneeling in the center of the house. Resigned and accepting oncoming death you kneel amidst them.
The singing of the canticle swells drowning out the screams in the courtyard and each of your sisters in turn raises an urn filled with oil and pours it onto their heads. Somewhere in the house wood splinters.
The holy mother raises a tindertwig before you all and mutters the last words of the prayer asking Pharasma to receive you.
The twig drops and the flame spreads rapidly over your sisters. As it washes over you the only thing you can feel is cold and the flames reach the supply closet where the rest of the oil is stored.
The world ends with a flashing boom.
-
The sounds of battle echo over the walls around the old Monastery. You stand over a yawning pit holding a weathered book in your hand as you mutter a prayer to the goddess Sarenrae. One after another the soldiers wheel the corpses of the buildings defenders to the yawning common grave in the Boneyard.
What care that can be taken is managed as each of the bodies is carefully lain to rest on top of his brethren. Many so young, mercenaries you and your comrades had brought with you when you fled the victorious battle at Gallowspire.
Your old friend his face drawn with grief as he looks down at the corpses turns to you and nods, “Gnarls says keep it up. They are corrupting the very grounds. Without your constant vigilance we could have a second army at our backs.”
As he leaves you vow to yourself that these young men and women will not become fodder for your enemies... not as long as you live.
You blink and you are standing in the dark over the misty boneyard, the courtyard around you ravaged by destruction. Gnarled and torn hands dig into the ground and drag the mouldering dead from the earth. A body in the robes of a Sarenraen priest is pulled from the ground to rest amidst the others. You watch with horror as it's lifeless body begins to move.
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The pain is intense. You gasp and raise your back off the gurney as another surge of pain wells from your wounds. A cool hand presses against your chest and pushes you down. A man in a thick white jacket spattered with blood appears in your vision. A kind smile is splayed across his features as he whispers softly, “Calm, calm...”
Elsewhere in the building you hear the moans and pained screams of other patients. The nuns mill around the man in the white coat. One of them presses a warm rag to your forehead speaking soothing words.
You look up at the kind face of the doctor with his thin white beard and deeply lined features speaking in a pleading voice, “Am... Am I going to make it Dr. Nelthazzar?”
The Alchemist nods and smiles as he takes a small potion and pours it over your lips, “Of course my girl. Please just rest.”
You feel the magic of the Doctor's alchemy trying to stop the infection at it's source. Distantly you hear the sound of alarm somewhere further in the house as things start to fade to black. The last thing you hear is the doctor's voice as he rushes away.
“Leeches on the wound, sister. I'll be back as soon as I can.”
-
You turn to see the Monsignor ascending the wooden steps into the belfry. He gives you a kindly smile, the same you recognize from your youth. He looks to the bell and then out over the wall where the battle against the Tyrant's fractured army rages. Behind the armies of the undead a dust storm is carrying down the mountains amid their formations obscuring the battle into a bright orange haze.
The old priest turns to you and your friends, all young boys and nods, “Remember boys. Ring the bells twelve times a day. We have to hope that someone will hear them and investigate. Our only hope is to summon help.”
As you watch, welling with hope you look in horror as his flesh starts to melt away. The light of day fades from your shoulders as the undead burst through the barred trap door. They advance on you, a cowled man in yellow robes directing them as the grab and restrain your screaming friends. One at a time the undead creatures tie you and your friends to the bells.
The yellow robed cultists took great glee in telling a mindless zombie to grab the ropes. His order?
“Ring the bells... Never stop ringing.”
You feel a scream well up in your throat to rival the tones of the giant bells.
-
You watch as the war council makes their way down the hall. You wring a dirty rag between your hands catching snippets of their conversation.
One of the priests starts to cry as he mutters, “It's all hopeless isn't it.”
An adventurer, one of the four that brought their army to Renchurch to help ahead of the encroaching remnants of Tar-Baphon's army, looked up and shook his head, “We just have to hold out long enough for the Crusade to track them here. Don't lose hope.”
As the retinue continued on to the war room you step forward and say, “Do you really believe that Lord Gnarls?”
The Half Orc warrior looked up at the trophy's on the wall and gestured down the long hall, “Impressive collection.”
You feel a smile break over your lips as he noticed them, “Oh yes, they are the Monsignor's prized possessions. He's hunted all over Avistan. I... I look after them.”
The warrior gave a smile and nodded, “Nice work. Don't worry. I will die before I let the force breech the wall. Caelandlara is on the walls now and she is optimistic.”
With a smile of pride you glance back at the trophies and turn back to find the hall empty. Somewhere in the temple you can hear screams and the constant toll of bells. Skeletal arms grab you and haul you up against the wall. A man in yellow robes looks to you and then to your prized trophies with a touch of a grin on his pale lips.
With a gesture of his hand the wall of lifeless trophies. Wolves, Bears, Apes, and Foxes start snarling and gnashing their teeth.
You linger and clutch to life as they tear you apart, piece by piece feeding you to them. No matter how much they eat they always want more.
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The adventures of the Riders of the Spiral have continued. Yesterday was the worst game in a while (completely my fault) but we keep plugging along. Here are some things that turned out well and the things that didn't.
Don't forget their spell resistance either. I did and the party's new wizard melted them to death with ball lightning. Overall a challenging fight.
That doesn't mean I didn't put his cave down a long tunnel which he could easily see down and most party members could not. I made the cavern a 100 ft long so that he could open up with his breath weapon at his leisure. Ultimately the group closed with him and surrounded him. They took a healthy amount of damage but when the paladin got in range a 132 damage full round of shots spelled Hagmouth's doom.
The Linnorm's poison is nasty. The alchemist's brother (npc) got bitten and after the fight it was a hard fought eight rounds of heal checks and fort save to keep him from burning up.
1.) I recommend having the party pre-roll perception and will saves before the encounter so they don't immediately know what's going on.
2.) This haunt is CN.
3.) I chose the Dessicating Sandstorm for this Haunt.
4.) Every round that the Haunt continues and the party follows it the damage from the storm increases by D4 and the DC against Mummy Rot goes up by +2.
5.) The Haunt is immune to all non positive energy damage.
6.) Directing an intimidate or diplomacy against the Sheriff or the Pastor has half the effect (minimum of 1) of ending the haunt. It never lowers the damage of the storm or it's save.
7.) Directing a diplomacy against the gravedigger lowers the HP (as indicated above) of the haunt and lowers the storms damage by d4 and the save by 2. Intimidate attempts against the gravedigger double the current damage and add a plus 4.
8.) I played up the increasing damage to the haunt by making the haunt seem more and more tired and weak.
9.) I changed the story on the fly and the group should be able to get details from whatever parts of the haunt they converse with.
"The sheriff lead them into the Virlych Mountains and got them lost. He became more and more obsessed with reaching the Shining Crusade and the arguments became more and more heated. When they got lost from the storm they ultimately hid in an old abandoned tomb to wait it out. Unfortunately it did not end for days and the group slowly starved. Finally it was the gravedigger who snapped and bludgeoned his comrades to death only to cannibalize their corpses."
Ultimately my group gave it a, "Thumbs up, would haunt again."
I will post more this evening.
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It seems ‘post something this evening’ is code for ‘in about a month’. Without further ado, here are the continuing adventures of the Riders of the Spiral.
Once the group discovered that the entire party of paladins was diseased they traveled with them briefly but ultimately grew tired of their slow pace and offered to rush ahead with a healthy paladin who knew the proper ritual and exorcise the old woman’s daemon. Upon arriving they were attacked by the surviving witchfires from Ashes at Dawn (who I had made a pair of young boys and their father). The two boys had been manipulated into a coven with the Night Hag after she had killed their weakened father.
The paladin NPC dragged the witch to the altar and began exorcising the demon while the witchfires and hag tried to kill the group. The enemies were dispatched in turn. The daemon was a complication but a combination of the wizard, alchemist and paladin destroyed him pretty quickly.
What I Would Change: For some reason I had the group of paladins by kind of ill-defined and a nebulous group of 9! (level 9) paladins. This allowed the group to request healing and removal of disease once they were able to exorcise the woman.
I should have had the witchfires and hag start harassing the group earlier along the road to the village. This would have put the incredibly ill paladins in danger and prevented the group from just taking matters into their own hands and leaving them behind.
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On the whole my group enjoyed the dark little story elements I have woven into each haunt. They avoided the hungry earth, easily bested the nightmares and cauchemar at the stables and were absolutely nuked by the Gruesome Gurney. It was after that haunt that the group attempted to rest, inside the old medical building. They were attacked by a group of ghosts and one of them succumbed to fear.
Driven outside and into an attack by the various foes at the front gate started a chain reaction that initiated a combat that would last all session. Our party’s new wizard really shined in this conflict managing to effectively solo the entire combat for a few rounds with invisibility, a summoned invisible stalker and a fog cloud.
In the end Svoac and the gate crew were in no means the push-overs I thought they would be. Of course, our paladin was out that session.
What I Would Change: The conflagration haunt. I botched this encounter considerably. The text says it functions as the spell which meant that it drifted around helplessly doing no damage. The group managed to gather up the ashes of the haunt in hopes of later laying it to rest. I went back and reread the encounter and discovered that it seems the fire just fills the entire building and doesn’t move which changes the dynamic considerably. So ultimately it’s DM error.
I did decide to take an altered vampire (bloodsucking fiend) that was created by one of the folks here on the boards and replace the vampire meeting with the spectres.
The monks tending the lazurite focus, I changed quite a bit. I gave them more loot. I raised their stats and their HP. I changed their feats. They are even more teamwork minded than before and have adopted the snake style feat in hopes of using their new and improved sense motive checks to bolster their absolutely abysmal AC’s. Despite their reoccurrence in the module this is the last place I intend to use them.
Mummy’s and stalkers stay the same.
As for the Mohrg’s and their surrounding apprentices I haven’t really decided what I want to change the apprentices into. I may leave them the same and just include more of them to make them less speed-bumpish.
I have made significant changes to the lich and that is tied directly to the backstory elements I introduced for Renchurch. Brief Synopsis:
“In 3827 AR immediately following the events at Gallowspire that saw the Whispering Tyrant defeated his army was scattered into various roving bands of orcs and undead. One such large band, seemingly at random set its sights on the monastery of Renchurch. A group of adventurers including the Redeemed Crusader General Simian Gnarls, famed Alchemist and Doctor Albus Nelthazzar, Father Kanon Greenridge of the Church of Sarenrae, and the elven high ranger Caellandlara(sp). The group and their small force of mercenaries took note of the army’s passage and having little time to get help committed their small force to the monastery to try and stop the advance of the enemy.
The adventurers hoped that a show of force and defense would cause the marauders to turn away in search of weaker prey but that hope seemed ill founded. A siege developed and for three long months the monks and their defenders died and starved within the monastery walls.
The enemy broke through the defenses of the walls upon the apparent treason of General Gnarls, when he subdued Caellandlara and after murdering a number of defenders at the wall opened the gates. The majority of the defenders were caught by surprise, the grounds soon becoming a scene of slaughter. The only adventurer to survive the walls intact and fall back into the chapel was Albus Nelthazzar although he did manage to subdue the traitor Gnarls, his mind seemingly broken, and wounds terrible.
It took less than two more weeks for the cathedral itself to be breeched. As far as anyone knows the only survivor was a single mad cleric of Pharasma who thereafter devoted himself to Groetus. Many of his tales of the horrors of Renchurch seemed hard to believe but it was thereafter called a cursed place. Few who visited left with their life, or their sanity.”
I decided to change the monastery from a bastion of the WW to a vault and tomb for the storage for their most important items. Chief among these was a single knuckle bone from Tar-Baphon himself. Believing that it might hold the secret to finally freeing the mighty necromancer the cult developed a demiplane both for its storage and for study and understanding of Urgathoan thought.
Renchurch was chosen out of component necessity when a group of liches divined that a desecrated holy place of Pharasma was required to both create and house the demiplane phylactery. The army laid siege to Renchurch for this purpose.
It was in fact Nelthazzar, not Gnarls, who betrayed the siege. The alchemist used a powerful venom to drive the warrior into a rage and used the resulting confusion to open the gates. For this he was given domain over the Renchurch Vault and everlasting life as a lich. The alchemist provided some of his own knowledge when it came time to create the demiplane.
The phylactery was created but soon gained a sentience of its own. Housing the relic inside it caused it to assume some of the Tyrant’s personality and now it refuses to open for everyone. Nelthazzar has spent the entirety of his undead existence trying to find a way to breech the cube. Recently he succeeded allowing the Gray Friar and his retinue to enter the demiplane and encounter the sealed cenobites.
I plan on changing the tomb haunt to be the General’s mirroring a small blurb I gave one of the players about the proper to bury a blasphemer or traitor to Pharasma.
The encounters outside the demiplane are:
1.) Nelthazzar – Small change. First round that he hears intruders the lich will clean off a number of chalk boards where he has scribbled his method for opening the Demiplane Phylactery.
2.) The Lich Vanguard – I moved the phylactery’s housed in the catacombs to a place near the lich’s laboratory and changed the occupants to a group of 8 lvl 8 unhallowed skeletal champion antipaladins.
3.) Dead Water – Stays the same.
4.) Fallen Crusader – Gonna change this one into an invisible force that bullrushes PC’s. Everytime they are bull-rushed an invisible blade slashes into them. If they hit a wall they go prone. The secret will be.. something. Still working.
5.) Demiplane Phylactery – In a central room where the WW have left a trap for the group. A group of sarcophagi around the room house the Advanced Revenants. Top that with the fact that the Phylactery operates as a sentient trap which, if it’s puzzles (6 in all) are not solved correctly it attacks the group in various ways. Disable Device DC’s scale:
1st: 15 [Black Vision – Disabler afflicted with horrifying visions of torture and mutilation. DC 20 Will or become Frightened for 1d4 rds]
2nd: 20 [Slice – Blades slice out of the surface of the box attacking the Disabler’s hands. +20 Atk (Disabler Takes D6+10, <1d4 Dex Damage>)]
3rd: 25 [Spears of Terror – Black spears emerge from the box and drive into the walls of the chamber. +25 Atk v.s. Entire Room. 2d6+10 Damage. Room is considered difficult terrain until third side is solved.]
4th: 30 [Welcome to Hell – Decaying hands erupt from the side of the phylactery and they attempt to grab the PC and drag them into the box where they are deposited in the demiplane alone. DC 20 Reflex Save to avoid. This trap is only triggered once.]
5th: 35 [Giveth and Take Away – A burst of black energy rushes out from the box. [This channel of negative energy does both 5d6 healing (to undead) and damage to living creatures. DC 20 Will for Half]
6th: 40 [Unlife in Chains – Spiked Chains lance outward from the box (3) and attack independently against enemies within the room. +18 to hit, 2d4+10 Damage. Can perform disarm and trip maneuvers. (CMB +18, CMD 25).
Special Attack: Behold the Beautiful- All three chains forgo attacks to attempt a grapple (+22). If successful and allowed to pin the chains can then systematically tear the skin off of their victim. This attack does 4d8+16 damage and causes 2d6 CHA damage.]
If the group is somehow able to force Nelthazzar to tell them or are able to discern the way to open the demiplane from the lich's destroyed notes the Phylactery can be opened in one minute. All creatures in the room at the time of opening are instantly drawn into the demiplane. In my case that is the room with the water demon and the mishtus.
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Using one of the NPC's from the codex as a template I created this unhallowed skeletal champion antipaladin to add to the room with the Lich Phylacteries. Essentially they were once defenders of Renchurch who were raised and blighted to serve as eternal guardians of the cults most valued treasures.
Eight of them might be a bit much if played smartly. Gonna give it a shot.
Lich Vanguard
unhallowed skeletal champion antipaladin 8
CE Medium humanoid (human)
Init +6; Senses Perception +10
Aura cowardice (10 ft.) enemies -4 checks v.s. fear, despair (10 ft.) enemies -2 to all saves
DEFENSE
AC 26, touch 14, flat-footed 23 (+10 armor, +1 deflection, +2 Dex, +1 Dodge, +2 Nat Armor)
hp 75 (8d10, 2d8)
Fort +8, Ref +6, Will +12
Immune: res 10 to smite damage, disease, DR 5/bludgeoning, channel resistance +4, and immunity to cold. Undead Traits. +2 ac v.s. Good, +2 saves v.s. Good.
OFFENSE
Speed 20 ft.
Melee +1 scythe +18/+13 (2d4+10/19–20 x 4)
Ranged mwk javelin +12/+7 (1d6+7/×2)
Special Attacks channel negative energy (DC 16, 4d6), smite good 3/day (+2 attack and AC, +8 damage), fiendish boon, cruelties <staggered, diseased, dazed> (DC 16)
Anti-Paladin Spell-Like Abilities (CL 8th; concentration +10)
At will—detect good
Anti-Paladin Spells Prepared (CL 5th; concentration +7)
2nd— corruption resitance, bull's strength
1st— litany of sloth, bane
TACTICS
If they vanguards hear the approach of the party they all cast bull's strength and corruption resistance which is reflected in their stats. They use litany of sloth to move move past the party and flank. One of the 8 remains out of range and channels to heal comrades. When his channels are depleted he moves in and is replaced by one of his comrades.
Long since corrupted beyond all help these warriors will fight to the death to defend their charges.
STATISTICS
Str 24, Dex 14, Con -, Int 8, Wis 14, Cha 14
Base Atk +9; CMB +16; CMD 27
Feats Improved Critical: Scythe, Channel Smite, Power Attack, Dodge, Weapon Focus (scythe), Improved Init (B)
Skills: Knowledge Religion 9, Intimidate 12, Perception 12
Languages Common, Necril
SQ aura of evil, code of conduct, divine bond (weapon +2, 1/day), touch of corruption (4d6, 6/day)
Combat Gear: potion of cause moderate wounds; Other Gear +1 mithral full plate, +1 scythe, cloak of resistance +1, ring of protection +1, silver holy symbol, 426 gp
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Once again text to be read to players for my versions of Renchurch's haunts. This continues and finishes the story of the four adventurers who tried to save the Cathedral and ultimately failed.
Yet another explosion rocks the monestary above and more than a few of the other servants, nuns, and monks around you scream in terror. Nearby the natural spring water pooling in the hall ripples incessantly with each blast from above. It's hard not to think of when you baptized your son in the holy mother's name in this very pool.
Several people sit up in shock as a retinue of guards makes their way into the makeshift camp. Among them, one of the adventurers, the dashing older doctor and alchemist Nelthazzar brushed by while several guards hauled a body on a stretcher. One of the guards growled angrily and let the stretcher drop yelling out to the Doctor, “Why do we have to haul this traitor down here m'lord? Why not leave him to the vultures?”
The Doctor, wild eyed, ashen faced, and his face spattered with blood turned and spoke in a hushed whisper, “Would you rather the enemy raise him to their ranks?”
The guard forced down his rising gorge at the notion and shook his head, his comrades nodding their assent. The Doctor waved them on, “We will bury him in the way reserved for traitors and blasphemers.”
You rise to look and see the tortured face of the General Simian Gnarls. You yelp in terror and clutch your child closer, “It can't be!”
The whispers hurry among the gathered away from the ears of terrified children.
Those whispers turn into the sound of marching feet and sickening and terrible voices just beyond the lights. As you watch with growing terror a pair of skeletons, brandishing scythes casually decapitate the guards at the edge of the light, even as they beg for mercy. Even as they offer you up as a gift to secure their survival.
You clutch your child as the shadows descend on the hall moving with the forms of men and women. One by one people scream and whimper as their life force is drained rising immediately to join the forces of the undead.
That fate escapes you as the you manage to retain the last of your strength and protect your child.
You tumble into the dark waters of the spring.
You both struggle for breath as Renchurch falls.
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You drive your dagger into the chest of the ghoul surmounting the wall and bash it off the wall with your shield. It's scream of defiance brings a smile to your lips and you move to the next foe. You raise your shield in time to deflect a host of arrows bearing down on you moving with speed and grace as you rush to a vampiric soldier trying to overcome one of the guards. As you bash him off and across the stone wall several comrades take opportunity to drive their own blade into it sending it into a mist borne death.
Below a blossom of exploding fire incinerates an entire platoon of skeletal ogres. You manage a smile and a glance to Nelthezzar as he swiftly moves to treat the wounds of a comrade. Caellandlara stands behind him sending a wave of arrows into the advancing army, each arrow setting another on fire with it's considerable magic.
The tide is turning. The dawn is coming soon and many of the enemies strongest forces will have to fall back or be powerless.
You drive your blade into a rushing Totenmaske with a snarl and bash it away and off the wall to join it's comrades.
Nelthazzar, bleeding from his own wounds and struggling to breathe rushes over and reaches out to take your hand. As you take it you feel a blade dig into your palm.
You barely have the time to narrow your eyes at your old friend before the anger takes you. Fire surges through your blood as you roar in growing pain. Every face you turn to is an enemy.
Throwing him out of the way you rush toward Caellandlara. The only one she could be. Your shield hits her and throws her into the tower. You manage a last order before you lose your senses, “Lock yourself in! Nelthazzar...”
You don't remember much of what followed. The blood of the guards on the wall soaked your blade as you stalked among them, once their only hope, tearing them to pieces.
As you kneel, wounded beyond hope, Nelthazzar speaks in your ear, “Gnarls the redeemed? Now Gnarls the traitor. They will all be caught unawares. The people you could not save. The harshest wound must be, Lord General, not only that you failed this place, and your friends but that when this battle is remembered Albus Nelthazzar will be it's hero.”
Darkness wells up to meet you as you slump to the ground.
With a jolt you are standing on the wall again grinning as you drive your blade into the ghoul's chest and then sending it screaming from the wall... An explosion is heard.
Nelthazzar smiles.
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This fight is hands down the best place to have the base Renchurch Novices... or the slightly altered ones below fight the party.
When the Novices get wounded (say 30 hp or below) they immediately rush over to the Mohrgs (if they are still alive) and allow themselves to be coup de graced / take AOO's so that they are killed.
The dead novices instantly raise into fast zombies (with novice HD) and give the Mohrg's a round of haste. Yeah... I'm a horrible person.
Renchurch Novice
XP 3,200 each
human monk (hungry ghost) 8 (Pathfinder RPG Advanced
Player’s Guide 110)
NE Medium humanoid (human)
Init +2; Senses Perception +15
Defense
AC 19, touch 19, flat-footed 17 (+2 deflection, +2 Dex, +1 dodge,
+2 monk, +2 Wis)
hp 80 each
(Fort +7, Ref +8, Will +9; +2 vs. enchantment
Defensive Abilities evasion
Offense
Speed 50 ft.
Melee unarmed strike +15/+10 (1d10+8) or
unarmed strike flurry of blows +13/+13/+8/+8 (1d10+8) or
mwk dagger +14/+9 (1d4+6/19–20 plus poison) or
mwk dagger flurry of blows +11/+11/+6/+6 (1d4+6/19–20 plus
poison)
Ranged mwk shuriken +9/+4 (1d2+5 plus poison) or
mwk shuriken flurry of blows +9/+9/+4/+4 (1d2+5 plus poison)
Special Attacks flurry of blows, life funnel*, punishing kick*
(8/day, DC 18), steal ki*
Tactics
During Combat The novice operating the lazurite focus
targets a new opponent every round, while her comrades
rush to flank intruders. If the operator is slain, another
novice breaks off from combat to operate the focus.
Morale These devout novices fight until killed.
Statistics
Str 22, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 7
Base Atk +6; CMB +15; CMD 31
Feats Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Deflect Arrows, Improved Unarmed
Strike, Outflank*, Paired Opportunists*, Punishing Kick*,
Snake Style, Weapon Focus (unarmed strike)
Skills Acrobatics +13 (+21 jump), Climb +6,
Knowledge (history) +5, Knowledge (religion) +5, Perception
+13, Sense Motive +15, Stealth +9
Languages Common
SQ fast movement, high jump, ki pool (10 points, magic),
maneuver training, slow fall 40 ft., still mind
Combat Gear potion of cure moderate wounds, giant wasp
poison (2 doses); Other Gear masterwork dagger, amulet of
mighty fists +2, ring of protection +2, belt of giant str +2
See the Advanced Player’s Guide.
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Just wanted to update this thread on the course of my game. I'll start with the moment from our session yesterday that crushed my heart and stomped on it.
It came after a particularly big fight when they were all trying to decide if it was worth it to enter an ancillary room filled with skeletal knights.
Paladin Player: Why are we even here?
Other Players: I'm not sure.
DM: You mean... you mean why are you in Renchurch?!
Paladin Player: Yeah. I don't even know why we came here. Maybe we should just leave.
DM: *nearly knocks self out with facepalm*
Note: Last week man in ghoul stone room, "Yeah I saw them dragging a woman downstairs and saying she was going to be prepared to be the vessel."
Literally every other week of the game since it started I send a huge and summarized recounting of the game to them so they will know what's going on. My soul died. Anyway.
Actual Game Info:
After the fight at the gates the group finally managed to go back and rest in the old medical building. I didn't roll a second random encounter so they were allowed to heal and refresh spells.
Entering the actual temple proper they were immediately hit with the enemy hammer haunt. Not wanting to deal with the devil (championed by our razor's edge from falling paladin) the group rushed ahead into the main chamber to get beset by the large scale ghoul fight.
Over all the fight went well for me with the group taking significant damage from the ghouls and the daemon's horrid wilting power. After finishing them off they advanced to the altar where the alchemist and his brother cohort succumbed and immediately sat down at the table to consume as much rotten flesh as possible.
The group struggled with them and finally managed to give the alchemist a second save which he narrowly passed. While they were tying up his cohort the wizard decided to return to the area with the enemy hammer haunt as he was sure that the bell he spied through the doors into the tower was somehow the secret to solving it.
Keenly malevolent the haunt picked him and tossed him into the bell while the group was at least two rounds of movement away.
Greater Shout! *passes save takes considerable damage still and is knocked into negatives*
Devil jumps down and hits him with a strike that would have killed him. *uses cards to survive*
Next round group starts to arrive, Devil coup de graces wizard.
Group arrives and rogue chooses to toss breath of life scroll to paladin.
Paladin chooses to shoot devil instead of using breath of life scroll due to meta conversation about the benefits of reincarnate. *wizard dies. alignment knock.*
The group reincarnates the male elven wizard into a male elven wizard and then they continue on toward the hall with the asphyxiating haunt.
I will admit that I somewhat mishandled this haunt with the initiative where party members were hit with suffocation but in the end it ended up using a lot of resources and they chose not to destroy it.
The rogue uses her gloves to spy on the two rooms around them and discover that both the spectres/vampire and novices have noticed them. They have a long conversation about who to attack first and choose the cultists. The group pre-buffs (a first) Death Ward, which saved their lives.
The spectres attack them from behind. I changed the vampire from a standard one to the bloodsucking fiend template created on the Ashes at Dawn GM thread which raised an interesting possibility. He rushed out and grappled the wizard and then fully planned chokehold him and then drag him into the hallway with the Asphyxiating Haunt. Alas, gaseous form.
The vampire escaped through gaseous form and may or may not come back to haunt the group. Probably not.
My remade Renchurch Novices turned out to be just a 'tidge', just a bit more powerful than I thought. The key to making them hit point chewing machines is to remember their Ki Points, their Snake Style Sense Motive checks, and Deflect Arrows. I used them here and in the Mohrg fight and they were stronger than most other fights in the dungeon.
Group defeats their enemies and then questions the rogue. He tells them the aforementioned info and they continue on.
The mummies and invisible stalkers was a less than memorable fight. I didn't really think it needed to be. It pays to remember those coldfire wrappings though and don't forget to hit the party with despair, although like mine, many of them are likely resistant or immune to fear.
The Dark Stair is another Whispers haunt where it pays to play the Whispers as an intelligent maneuvering enemy. Don't pick a rogue or a wizard to be the focus of this haunt. Make it go after your alchemists, fighters, and barbarians. If it's only choice is a lower damaging character get that one and then have it wait for a better choice to enter the stairwell to save it's comrade before leaving it's current host for better meat. Remember that grapple and other Combat Maneuvers count as an attack and have the afflicted character start attacking the first character that tries it until they are dead. I made the entire first part of the catacombs map up to where it splits into the larger room part of the stair and tied it in with the fight with the Mohrgs and Novices.
The way I handled the Mohrg fight was to have the novices run in to engage and surround the party. I was careful with spacing to allow points for the Mohrgs to rush in and spring attack with their tongues. This gave the very real terror and possibility of paralysis (which the group's fighter succumbed to and was ultimately put into negatives because of) and makes the fight more dynamic. I was only able to use my clever 'kill a novice and get hasted' plan once but it worked pretty well and I recommend trying it with one of the monks who is low on hp.
Nelthazzar was my greatest disappointment and my biggest failure. The group engaged the two embalming golems and started to get hit pretty hard (especially the alchemist) and the lich started throwing bombs and using his more powerful extracts. It is when they were roughly two rounds into the fight when the paladin drank a potion of see invisibility. If one of your players does (especially a paladin) I highly recommend you use Nel's dispel magic extract on the next round to get rid of it. They chased him into the next room where he was attempting to get aid from my Lich Vanguard and then dusted him before he could open the door.
The rogue used her gloves of recon to check the doors in the next room (changed for my version of the dungeon) and saw the lich vanguard guarding the phylacteries. Here they stalled for about ten minutes discussing whether they should attack the vanguard, move on, or REST IN NELTHEZZAR'S FORMULARY!!. I regret telling them that I would absolutely without a doubt hit them with a random encounter if they did that. They chose to continue on and fought the vanguard.
Also a lackluster fight. Their HP was too low, or there were one too few (5). One or two of the antipaladins had to hang back and channel every round to make it an effective encounter. Ultimately they killed them and despite an impressive crit on scorching ray from the recovering lich they killed her as well.
That's where we left the game this week.
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My game dead? No, of course not!
Just slow. Very very slow.
A recap!
After defeating him the spirit promised to stand vigil over them while they rested. They awoke to find that it had killed an entire pack of ghouls while they slept. Recouping they traveled to the chamber where the reliquary was hosted.
While the rogue attempted to solve the six round intelligent trap the group was forced to deal with the revenants, one of which was trying to kill her. This combat turned out to be far more difficult and blood-letting than I intended. Although they managed to pull through it probably scoured half of their resources for the day.
The reliquary activated and the group was pulled into the demiplane to search for Kendra and the Gray Friar.
[Note: I know that a lot of this strays from how the adventure is written but I changed stuff around for story reasons. The ‘demiplane’ basically consists of most of the rooms ‘south’ and including the chamber with the Omox.]
If the fight with the revenants wasn’t enough I gave them three or four rounds while the Omox, who in my version was intrigued more than bloodthirsty about the sudden influx of visitors after 400 years of being on guard.
Then they were in a drawn out fight with the Omox and the mihstus which posed very little threat. [Note: Prospective CC DMs pay attention to those rules about slipping and falling into the acid pool. I ignored them for half the fight and effectively trivialized it.] Afterward the group traveled into the room to the south (which Lucimar had chosen to alarm) and found it empty.
They looted it and traveled ‘east’ into the room with the four cenobites and 40 zombies that had originally housed the regenerating lich. Not a bad fight. Lucimar made his first appearance of popping in and casting one spell before retreating (create pit) to slow down the paladin and the wizard and the Cenobites were ultimately bested.
Continuing south the group encountered the life trapping mirror which, without the aid of the haunt, the alchemist revealed to the group on his own. One after the other they were each dropped into the mirror, starting on the first round with the alchemist (one of the only two characters with kno arcana or spellcraft) and the second round with the wizard (you guessed it).
Lucimar made another appearance only to be dropped to near death by the paladin before he too was pulled into the mirror. In the end only the two NPC’s (the rogue’s shadow companion and Quinley the Goblin rogue) were left. The goblin promptly picked up a rock and heaved it at the mirror.
[This Week’s Session]
An entire group of naked adventurers (plus my npc representative to cover for two missing players) faced off against a toned down kalavakus encounter. My advice to myself setting up this fight was to leave it as is… because they smoked it easily. I decided that leaving the mirror required a reroll of initiative so anyone who went before the demons could avoid AOO’s. Before I knew one of the demons was staggered and the other just opted to cast haste and it was all downhill.
The totenmaskes convinced the party that they were indeed Kendra and a group of varisian wanderers which ultimately lead to my favorite fight of the session.
Stone Golems and Totenmaske’s v.s. the Party.
The rogue solo whirlwind attacking five totenmaskes (some slowed) over and over again. The alchemist drinking monstrous physique III and using his adamantine falchion to nearly solo three Stone Golems (the advent of some previously imbibed potion that caused him to gain even more strength and lose more mental stats left him with a STR of 37 and a wisdom of 4). The wizard pulling crowd control with acid fog and create pit. The wizard even went down at one point causing his curse (which causes a minor reaper to be summoned in) to activate and drew some of the ire of the Stone Golems. Lucimar used his phantasmal revenge scroll on the alchemist who rolled a TWENTY on his will save.
A fun time was had by all.
The greater shadows were less enjoyable. The alchemist lost 24 of his strength in one round, and the npc Quinley was killed and given a breath of life before he could spawn into a shadow himself. Ultimately the bard used bard’s escape to save the group from an ultimate collapse.
Now they have to decide if they use the plane shift scroll they found to escape the demiplane or continue on despite their dwindling resources.
To be Continued?!
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The alchemist noticed the bodies in the room and being at four wisdom immedialtey stomped in and started destroying them. The shadows knew full well that roaming about in the open was idiotic (even with an int of 6) so their tactic was to hide in the walls.
Given his zeal in chopping the bodies the alchemist didn't notice that they didn't have shadows until they were already streaming out of the walls. A surprise encounter with these shadows can and will murder an entire party without Death Ward.
If my NPC Bard hadn't cast Bard's escape the alchemist, rogue, and bard would have all three been dead the next (4th) round.
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A campaign backtrack elaborating on changes that I made to the Schloss Caromarc in the second book to heighten the terror of the Aberrant Promethean and provide some heavy atmosphere.
Thank you to whoever originally came up with these ideas here on the boards. This is essentially just a reposting.
1.) The party meets the Beast on the road to the Schloss near a river. Perhaps in the distance waving for them to join them. (Best done at dawn or dusk) Out of nowhere the AP, indistinct at such range but clearly terrifying, jumps the beast and grapples with him briefly before both of them fall into the river and are swept away.
2.) I replaced the construct guardian at the mansion with a totenmaske impersonating the count. If asked about the strange creature he admits that he (rather Caromarc) created it to be a better construct than the Beast, which he considered a failure. He also mentions that he has been trying to get back into the tower to regain control of it, but refuses to reveal how.
3.) When the group slept in the mansion I had one of them who was on watch that night spot the AP struggling with a froghemoth on a nearby mountain side in a lightning storm. The AP was clearly victorious. A character with a suitable knowledge skill would easily be able to convey just how dangerous it is.
4.) Finally, if the group stays at the mansion a second night to rest the AP actually descends from the tower and attacks them in the night. It drives it's claws through the windows to try and get at them, thus only getting one attack at a time. This gave them an idea of just how much damage it could do. I ignored it's grab ability and gave it a 50% miss chance due to clawing blindly through the windows. Any appreciable damage from the party or three rounds later it fled.
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Oh, I can claim credit for that!
Here's the link for that. Sorry, I rarely chime up about the stuff I do, but I remembered a lot of what you describe, so there you have it.
Those are some pretty cool ideas! :D