GM Haladir's Rise of the Runelords (Inactive)

Game Master Haladir

As the evening marches on there is still drink and merriment to be had at the Rusty Dragon Inn. Soon however, the Inn begins to empty as most folk are tired after a very busy day and retire for the night.

If there is anything further you want to do this evening let me know. If you are all content to turn in for the night, we'll progress to the next day.

Walking back to the Dragon with Halvor and Cerin, Lynnda throws her arms about both their shoulders in camaraderie and laughs.

"Guys, thanks so much for backing me up! I haven't felt this free in years! I'd buy you some rounds at the Dragon, but I think Ameiko is comping us. I promise to make it up to you."

At Cerin's question about Vishki, some of the joy leaves the sorceress' demeanor.

"'Uncle' Jubryal Vishki is an old family friend, and he took me in after I ran into some... uh... trouble in Magnimar a few months ago. I would have rather not have crossed him, and, honestly, I'm not certain whether or not I have." She pauses, and seeing Cerin's and Halvor's genuine looks of concern, she continues, "'Uncle' Jubryal set me up with a job at the Feedbag, under Tenniwar's, um, 'supervision.' And my that, I mean his lecherous gaze. I only complained to Jubryal about Tenniwar once, and he told me that this problem was mine to solve, and that he was interested in seeing how I went about it."

She lowers her voice to a whisper. "If you didn't know it, Jubryal is the head of the local Sczarni family. It's best not to get on their bad side, and I fear we may have done just that. I'll probably need to smooth things over with him sometime soon. Especially now that we seem to be in the employ of the sheriff!"

As the trio turns the corner and are in sight of the Rusty Dragon, Lynnda's mood improves greatly. "Well, I'm ready for another round or two before turning in. I think we may have a busy day tomorrow!"

Halvor grins at Cerin, the bravado having been a completely instinctive act. He certainly wouldn't have started sweeping heads off shoulders to prove it. As he rides his adrenaline high from the close call, Lynnda puts her arm up and over his shoulder. He glances down, recalling again how lovely the woman is, especially when she smiles. His eyes widen slightly, drifting to Cerin, certain the observant gnome would crack wise.

He listens to Lynnda's story, face darkening. Thugs such as these were a drain on society and should be dealt with. Maybe he would talk with Hemlock about that after this mess had been cleared up. His mind gears keep on spinning...what had the sorceress been doing associating with them?

When they return to the Rusty Dragon, Halvor will join his companions for a drink, then retire. Fighting goblins, sharing awkward glances, intimidating thugs, and quandaries were more than he could handle in a day.

Ready for tomorrow whenever everyone else is.

Cerin mulls over this new information. "Those who rise to the top of a crime family are usually a bit craftier than the common thug. I would not be surprised if Jubryal will not be angry with you at all. He will probably be pleased with your 'initiatve' and plotting how he can best benefit from having an operative, especially a famous one, on the inside of the local law. We will just have to see what kind of 'favor' he asks!"

He has one more drink before bed, toasting his new comrades before wishing everyone a good night. He awakens just before dawn and rushes down to the harbor to pray to Gozreh. As he stands in the surf with arms spread wide open welcoming the dawn, he glories in the beginning of a new day and thanks the Lord of Sea and Sky for His gifts.

"Glad to see you all back, I trust your excursion was fruitful?" Krissina nods to the others as they haul Lynnda's stuff over.

As you rise in the morning and take in a hearty breakfast, courtesy of the Rusty Dragon, you begin to plan for the day. Before your conversation becomes in dept however, a young man enters the inn and approaches your table. Judging by his manner of dress he is an acolyte from the Cathedral . He appears very nervous.

”Ah thank Desna, I’ve found you! Father Zantus requests your company at once! …er…I mean at your earliest convenience of course. We have found something distressing at the graveyard. The Goblins didn’t just attack the town square. It seems they had a hand in disturbing the souls of the dead also. The graveyard has been defiled by the evil green skins! Father Zantus awaits your attendance in the graveyard even now. Um…please enjoy your breakfast…”

With that, the boy very nearly runs out of the tavern.

The graveyard? What would a bunch of goblins want to do in a graveyard. Halvor doesn't know much about the creatures, but he doesn't think that this is normal behavior for them, especially since there were so many living people to be terrorized and killed. He shrugs. Answers would be forthcoming from Father Zantus soon, it seemed. He continues to eat, finishing his meal.

"The only uses I can think of for bodies involve dark magic, but you'd think they'd just kill someone and take them rather than dig someone up? Maybe someone was buried with something?"
Krissina's brow creases in thought.
"More than ever, I feel there is someone else pushing the goblins... somebody dangerous."

Swallowing the last of his bacon, Cerin nods in agreement with Krissina.

"Yes, we should get over there as soon as possible. There might be more clues as to the identity of this 'longshanks' that is directing the goblins."

He washes his breakfast down with a gulp of fruit juice and grabs a slice of toast for the road.

Halvor sighs, a second helping of breakfast didn't seem to be in the cards today. He rises, shifting his arsenal around as he follows the gnome and redhead towards the graveyard.

Barely taking a few bites of his breakfast before the boy rushes in, Kyrian attempts to settle into his seat, and becomes interrupted by the request. Hearing the boy speak and then take off, he looks to his companions as they speak their pieces. "Well as much as I'll agree that grabbing bodies seems like dark magic, going there should definitely help get an idea as to what whoever is in charge over there is doing. If they took an item, then maybe we can get an idea as to what they want to do. If they took a body, then maybe we can get a list of people who may have had it out for that one body." Moving along with the others as they begin to head out, he adjusts his belt so that his daggers move more freely than before.

The Sandpoint cemetery is situated in the shadow of the grand Cathedral. Entrance is gained via the main gate in north, near the North Gate of the town itself. An acolyte is waiting at the entrance to usher you in. Once inside you can see that the cemetery is well groomed and cared for. Stone vaults stand near the edges of the cemetery or at its center, while dozens of humble plots, each marked with a simple gravestone, sit amid trees and shrubberies. The expansive cemetery overlooks the Turandarok River below on its Eastern edge.

You are led to a vault close to the eastern edge of the grounds. There waiting is Sheriff Hemlock, Father Zantus and several acolytes, including a curious looking deformed man who is hunched over with a twisted back.

Father Zantus greets you with a smile.

”Excellent friends. Glad you could join us so quickly. We were to proceed without you but our ever cautious Sheriff insisted we await your arrival. As you can see here the vault has been disturbed. Here the door remains ajar…

The priest indicates one of the doors on the 20 ft square stone structure before you remains partially ajar, although not enough to see inside.

”As you can see, someone has gained entry Father Tobyn’s burial vault. Father Tobyn was the last high priest of Sandpoint who tragically perished along with his daughter in the fire that destroyed the previous Chapel. It’s likely that some mischievous youths have snuck into the cemetery at night to cause this disturbance.”

The twisted hunchbacked man speaks up. He speaks with a gravely voice.

”Beggin me pardon my lord. But it’s not likely. I keep them younguns out! You know I does a proppa job keeping dese grounds well and good. There is evil at work I tells ya.”

Next the Sheriff speaks up…

”I’m sorry Father, I just want to be sure. With the recent attacks an all I have a mind to think that a stranded Goblin has taken refuge in the vault. And look here…What do you make of these tracks?”

The Sheriff indicates that the soft earth in front of the vault has been disturbed.

Although his tracking skills are quite limited, Halvor will give the prints a cursory glance.

survival + 1

Once done, he draws his sword and dons his shield, preparing to enter the vault once the others are ready.

Cerin examines the ground, carefully brushing away a few stray leaves without disturbing the earth to get a better look.

Survival +9

There are numerous Goblin footprints here that have churned up the dirt recently (most likely during yesterday's attack). The tracks lead from a point on the eastern stone wall to the vault and back. After examining the stone wall that encloses the eastern edge of the graveyard, you notice an area near the top of the 6 foot wall where the stone has been chipped away recently. It appears that a grapnel hook and rope was used by 6 or 7 Goblins to scale the short rocky cliff up from the river below. After gaining entry to the graveyard they proceeded quickly to the vault and gained entry. The party returned the way they came and it appears that at least two of them were heavily burdened. Most disturbing of all is that you can identify man tracks among the Goblins. You judge that a human, half-elf or elf accompanied the raiders.

Cerin relates this information to everyone.

"So, they definitely took something, and it was heavy. I believe the person with them may be the one orchestrating the attack. Father, let us check out the crypt to make sure they didn't leave any 'surprises', and then perhaps you can tell us what they took."

Who would help the foul beasts? Knowing what they took would help. Halvor moves to the door, looking back to make sure the rest of his companions are there. He is ready for surprises, or thinks he is, at any rate.

You push on the old metal doors of the vault and they whine and creak as they slowly open to reveal the crypt. As you peer into the vault you become suddenly aware of shifting movement within. Two horrifying skeletons come lurching out of the darkness towards you! Their unnatural movements and menacing gaze are fixed on you. They raise their rusted blades in preparation to attack.

Combat Map

Combat Round 1 (No surprise): Cerin > Kyrian > Halvor > Skeletons > Krissina > Lynnda > NPC’s

Halvor's eyes widen in surprise. He had been expecting goblins, not animated skeletons. Still, it was an enemy, one he was confident he could handle with his blade. Grim look on his face, he advances, cutting off the route of one skeleton to protect his lighter-armored fellows. Keeping his shield between himself and his foe, he unleashes a might attack on the walking dead.

Will move to G3, Power Attack on skeleton adjacent. +5 to hit, d8 + 6 damage. If Cerin and Kyrian bring that one down, Halvor moves to the bottom skeleton with the same plan.

"Gaaa! Walking dead! My magic won't work on them!"

Lynnda cocks her crossbow, loads a bolt, and fires at the skeleton at G3.

Move action to load the crossbow, standard action to aim and fire. Ranged attack +2, -4 penalty for firing into melee, total attack modifier of -2.

Cerin raises an eyebrow and moves back when he sees the skeletons.

"Try and use blunt weapons! Swords and arrows won't do much against creatures with no flesh!" he calls out as he grabs his sling and whirls it around his head. He lets fly at the skull of the first one to move.

Knowledge (religion) +9 to learn weaknesses (I took a bit of liberty as I figure he knows something about them...)
Sling +2 attack, 1d3+1 damage

"Great. Now you tell me. Anyone have any rocks I can throw at them?"

Cerin whirls his sling about his head furiously and lets the missile fly straight at one of the undead. The projectile smashes solidly into the creatures’ torso and chips of bone fly off. The skeleton does not seem to notice the damage however and appears ever intent on inflicting harm.

Kyrian hears Cerin’s warning call too late and let’s fly with an arrow. The missile strikes home but is harmlessly deflected off of the creatures’ bones.

Halvor also pays no heed to Cerin’s warning call. He confidently strides ahead into the vault and sweeps his sword powerfully towards one of the undead. As his blade hammers down against the old wooden shield the creature uses for defence it splits and splinters of wood and bone erupt. The full weight of Halvor’s blade coupled with his considerable strength unite into an irresistible force and the skeleton is literally smashed to pieces. Dust and a scattering of bones pile about on the cold stone floor of the vault.

The second Undead lurches mechanically towards the threat of Halvor. As the skeleton draws close its rusty blade lashes out in a series of blinding fast slashes. Halvor is cut brutally on his arm and he recoils in pain.

Krissina rushes boldly forward, Morningstar in hand. She assaults the undead enemy but mistimes her swing and her weapon fails to connect.

Lynnda steps to the side and takes careful aim. She shoots a x-bow bolt but it veers high and ricochets harmlessly off the back of the stone vault interior.

Sherriff Hemlock draws his sword and steps into the vault to lend assistance. He swipes at the creature but his attacks are deflected and have no effect.

Brother Zantus mills about in the background unsure of what to do. The man seems in shock.

Combat Map

Combat Round 2: Cerin > Kyrian > Halvor > Skeleton > Krissina > Lynnda > NPC’s

Halvor hisses in pain, turning to square up against the new foe. Seeing Krissina joining the fight, he sidesteps to his left, putting the skeleton creature between his and the lovely oracle. He does not possess a bludgeoning weapon, and swinging the blade with the flat would be awkward, so Halvor just rinses and repeats, swinging at the skeleton in a mighty arc.

5'step to H3, Power Attack, with flank +7, d8 + 6 damage

Cerin calls upon the fury of the storm to batter the last skeleton, hoping the blinding rain and winds will serve to keep their undead foe off balance and aid Halvor.

Ranged Touch attack +2-4 (firing into melee)= -2; 1d6 nonlethal damage and -2 to attack this round

Cerin summons a mystical storm which thunders and roils above the undead minion. For all its bombast, it appears to have little effect though.

For lack of a more effective means of attack, Kyrian readies another arrow and shoots. The shaft misses its mark and cracks against the stone wall of the vault.

Halvor whirls around and takes a mighty swing with his sword but his blow is turned by the supernaturally quick blade of the enemy.

The Skeleton continues its barrage of quick cuts and Halvor is again sliced. Halvor feels unsteady on his feet and a river of crimson now flows down his arms to pool on the cold stone floor.

Halvor has suffered a critical hit and is bleeding!

Krissina, sensing that Halvor is in desperate peril, seeks to end the conflict rapidly. She assaults the skeleton with a brutal barrage from her Morningstar. As she batters on the undead minion again and the fiend crumples under the fury of the attack and finally collapses in a pile of bone and debris.

With the battle concluded, everyone seems to be in a brief state of shock after the encounter with the terrifying and unexpected undead foe. Brother Zantus quickly snaps out of his daze.

”My apologies. I cannot abhor violence and I admit I’m not much use in a battle. However…”

He motions towards Halvor who appears ready to collapse at any moment. Brother Zantus steps forth and eases Halvor to the ground. He quickly sets to work applying his mystical arts and soon his hands are glowing faintly blue with power (cure light wounds). As the magic flows into Halvor, he is soon restored.

Sherriff Hemlock addresses you all at this juncture:

”Well done. All of you. I can't believe that this is the work of the Goblins. This must be the work of thier mysterious leader. Now, let's see what other mischief is about. But be cautious. There may be further unnatural surprises waiting for us.”

"So the goblins are being led by a necromancer?! Great. Just... great."

The sorceress shakes her head and sighs in exasperation. She then grins with an expression of disbelief and turns to the rest of the group. "Well, I guess we have our work cut out for us! This oughtta be really fun."

Why, exactly, am I planning to go up against a band of goblins led by a necromancer?? Because a sheriff asked me to? And he didn't even offer to pay us! So... why is it that I actually really do want to do this?

Halvor sits on the ground, watching distractedly as the blood flows freely from the savage attack of the skeleton. He feels the warmth flowing through him as Father Zantus heals him, the flesh knitting back together, the bleeding flow stemmed. He rolls his shoulders a couple of times, then hops back to his feet, relatively good as new.

Unsettled by the close call, he remains silent, walking into the crypt again, taking a look around.

Perception +1

"Yes, with that reception we can be pretty sure there is something here they do not want us to see! Glad to see you're all right, big buddy, I was worried for you for a moment there!"

Cerin slips into the crypt, stepping over the now lifeless pile of bones, to get a look. He scans the walls, ceiling and floor before turning his attention to the central sarcophagus.

Perception +7 w/Darkvision

"I believe my curative magic should burn the undead - though I've never tried it before. If one of you... more skilled warriors would like the use of my morningstar or sling for the time being, I'll put that theory to the test."

Halvor will accept the morningstar from Krissina for the time being, just in case any more of those creatures show up. He sheathes his sword.

"My magic mostly affects weak-minded creatures. It doesn't work on dancing bones or shambling corpses. If we're going to be fighting the minions of a necromancer, maybe I should pick up a sling and some bullets."

You cautiously search the vault for any further signs of danger. It soon becomes apparent that there are no more enemies or hazards within. After a thorough search you make two discoveries:

First, the sarcophagus is opened and the remains of Father Tobyn have been removed.

Secondly, in one corner of the vault you find a curiously discarded robe. The grimy black fabric is tattered, but otherwise the robe seems unremarkable.

Halvor's face darkens at the desecration. He hadn't known Father Tobyn very well, but he had known of the man, the keeper of the former chapel, and had spoken to him on matters of faith a couple of times as he was growing up near town. What would be the point of this?

"Grave-robbers! We probably should have expected this once we saw the skeletons. Brother Zantus, can you tell us anything about the Father and why someone might want his body? Did he have any special knowledge, any secrets?"

Cerin picks up the robe and rubs his birthmark as he studies it. Lightning dances across his eyes for a few moments and then he hands it to Lynnda.

"Definitely was magical, but it's fading now. Perhaps you could discern a bit more about what it was? I'm a little rusty, haven't done this for a while..." he almost mumbles the last statement, looking a bit sheepish.

"Neither of the skeletons we fought were Father Tobryn were they?"

"Sure, Cerin." Lynnda holds the cloak in her left hand and gesticulates with her right, her fingers tracing glowing sigils in the air. Her eyes then glow faintly blue as she stares intently at the cloak, seemingly in a trance. Shadow, perched on her shoulder, seems particularly alert and vigilant.

After a moment, Lynnda's eyes stop glowing, and she snaps out of it.

"I think this cloak is where those skeletons came from, and not the crypt. So, no, Red, I don't think that we just fought Father Tobyn's bones. This is, or was, a magic item that a necromancer could use to create undead creatures. Well, it's more like the skeletons were bound into the cloak, and could be released later. Anyway, I'm pretty sure that this cloak's dark magic is spent. If it were up to me, I'd burn it, just to be safe."

Sheriff Hemlock grimly views the scene inside the vault.

”So this is it then. This is what they were after. The attacks all over town were simply a decoy. A feint designed to make us look the other way while a small party stole into the graveyard and made off with the former father’s remains. Why didn’t they just infiltrate the graveyard in the dead of the night? Could it be that they were also testing our defences at the same time. And why steal father Tobyn’s remains? Father….”

Father Zantus appears mortified.

”I..I...do not know. There was never a kinder or nobler man. I cannot fore see what purpose anyone would have in stealing away his remains.”

The hunchback Naffer speaks up at this point

”Humf. Dere wasn’t much remains to steal away. The fire had all but lef ashes. Jusa few charred bones is all. And we dinnit find nothin of his daughter. She was all burnt up to ashes.”

Father Zantus appears dismayed to hear Naffer’s words.

”Indeed. While I can’t say exactly what has transpired here I can say that is a very dark deed. With the times beings the way they are just now and the present danger to the town, I’m not sure the townsfolk are ready to face so terrible a truth…”

Sheriff Hemlock nods in agreement and addresses all present:

”Once again I must thank you for your talents friends. I’m glad that the town can rely on you as allies. For now I think it best if the events that have occurred here to remain a secret. All agreed?”

Halvor nods absently at the Sheriff's request, the situation out of his element. Necromancers and graverobbing goblins were quite a new experience for him. With a shy smile and polite nod he hands the morningstar back to the flame-haired Oracle.

At the sheriff's request, Lynnda snorts. Her lip curls into a mirthless smirk, and she replies, "Well, if there's one thing I'm good at, it's keeping secrets."

Shadow then hops from her Lynnda's shoulder and then sits beside the witch's feet.

Cerin cocks his head and gives the sheriff with a questioning look.

"If you think that's best, I'll follow along. Personally, I would rather know what was going on rather than be left in the dark. It would also be helpful if the townsfolk knew how serious the situation is; they could be on the lookout for any strange occurences that might be related and report them! If they don't know the truth, they may not know what to look for." he offers with a shrug.

"Was the good father buried with any items or relics, and what do you mean the daughter was never found - are we sure she's dead?"
Krissina's ears are prickling she'd lived through a fire that should have killed her, no reason someone else couldn't have.

Father Zantus reflects a moment before responding.

”If I recall, nothing was entombed within father Tobyn’s sarcophagus. It’s just as he would have desired. Indeed, I believe he would have disapproved of even this modest vault. But he was beloved of the people. A sadness had descended upon Sandpoint. This is entirely due to the late unpleasantness. I deemed it appropriate to honor his life in a more fitting fashion, with this humble tomb. This pleased the people somewhat and uplifted their spirits.

Finally, as far as revealing this incursion to the town, I don’t think they could bear it just now.”

Sheriff Hemlock speaks up next.

”I agree. Warding off the scattered attack from a pack of Goblins is one thing but an evil plot involving a necromancer, grave robbers and foul minions of the undead is beyond the will of the town just now. We need strength and unity now not fear and paranoia. Now, I must be away and inform the Mayor of these events.”

Halvor's brow furrows in deep thought. He knows little of these things, but the target just seemed too specific. If it was a necromancer, couldn't they just use any bones? Why the late Father's?

"I'm sorry to keep you, Father Zantus, but I have another question for you. Are there any who did not like the late father? Any enemies, people who disagreed with his faith and teachings? The burly man shrugs. He couldn't see any other connection beyond that. And if the man had no reply, then there was nothing to investigate.

Knowledge:Local: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12
Krissina opens her mouth to speak, then stops to think herself rather than imply besmirching Tobyns daughter any further.

How old was Nualia, is there any chance she was likely to interested in men/boys at that age?

Lynnda's eyebrow arches at the mention of the fire and the 'Late Unpleasantness.'

Lynnda grew up on the Lost Coast Road, mostly near Magnimar. What does she know about it? Knowledge (local) +5.

"Is there a way we can get down to the river more easily than scaling the cliff? I would like to see if we could pick up the goblins' trail." Cerin inquires after ruminating a bit.

The “Late Unpleasantness” refers to these events:

A relatively peaceful town, devoid of many of the dangers of a true frontier town and intrigues of a sprawling city, Sandpoint has nonetheless had its share of troubles. The fading scars of a recent terror still linger, a time most folk refer to as the Late Unpleasantness. Just over five years ago, a madman stalked the streets of Sandpoint, killing dozens. Known as Chopper, the killer’s month long terror ended bloodily when an eccentric local artisan was revealed as the murderer and killed during his attempted capture. Adding to the pain, less than a month later the local chapel burned to the ground in a conflagration that nearly consumed the town’s northern half and left the local priest dead.

Halvor and Krissina would be intimately familiar with these events. Cerin and Lynnda less so but still would have heard of them.