Hungry Voodoo's Mines of Zolurket (Inactive)

Game Master voodoo chili

Noting their precarious position with one companion killed and resources depleted, the adventurers make for the exit through the round room holding the great monument covered in bas-relief portraying hte history of the dwarves that once dwelled here. The door out to the Grand Transept remains open and the party swiftly drags their dead with them as they skirt the promenade back to the caravanserai.

As the battered party comes round the promenade and into the view a little, well armored man puffing away on an absurdly long pipe that seems to be tipped in a long spike. He holds a map in his hand and seems to be cursing about losing track of a gnome and his parrot. "I swear if I find that stinking gnome in here I am gonna kill him...." The halfling's grumblings trail off as he sees the crew coming his direction. "Sweet baby Kurgess!!!", he yelps. Giving his pipe a heavy blow and filling the area with a heavy smoke he brings the spike to bare. "All right, lads. Be ye friend or foe. Ye look a horrible fright and I heard of the dead lookin' a lot like ye down here."

Karrak squints at the newcomer. "You're the first thing we've met in days that hasn't attacked us, so let's go with friend. Karrak Ironhand, priest of Torag, at your service."

"AH!", he exclaims."You must be the fellas the gents I ran into a little way back were speaking of. . . .but, they said you were four." Catching a glimpse of Tarrar's body, he says "Oh my, I am sorry to see ye've caught the worst of it. I fear a friend of mine may have suffered a similar fate in these mines."

Will get sheet updated in a little bit.

A large nose and dangling beard appear above the caravanserai doors as Aktosh investigates the disturbance. "Ah, so you've returned." He notices Tarrar and the beard sways as the old dwarf shakes his head. "Is he dead? It'd be best to burn him soon if he was slain by undead. Heck, burn him even if he wasn't slain by undead; you can't be too careful in this damned mine."

"Speak wit raspect! Dis one fell fer yer mine, so ye'll be accordin' him all da rights he be due."

Lockjaw unloads his burden.

"Den we burn 'im."

Wary, but silent over the halfling's interjection - Chitleen's ears perk up at the words of Aktosh "What do you mean Aktosh?... what is there to fear from Tararr now that he is dead?"

Content in the fact the newly arrived group are, in fact, known to the group in the caravanesi, Seamus again returns the spear-pipe to the crook of his arm and begins puffing away. "What indeed.", he says with a great deal of intrigue in his voice.

Grumbling, Aktosh disappears from the roof and opens the doors to admit the adventurers. "I thought I told you before that these mines are cursed. Oh, might have been before you healed me and I could hear myself speak again. Sometimes they come back, the dead I mean, twisted and hungry especially if they were killed by undead. The gnolls always burned their dead when I was a slave."

"I don't mean no disrespect, but it's better to burn 'em right away or feed 'em to the oozes like you did last time. No, the oozes ain't right for Tarrar. I'm just saying that I wouldn't leave a body lying around in this place overnight."

"By the way, I hope you don't mind that I took it on myself to get rid of the heads you posted around. I don't think the werebats will be back anytime soon and they were only liable to draw trouble."

Chitleen looks far too interested in the potential for Tararr to return than the sacriledge that might be involved in the defilement of the fallen. He narrows eyes at Lockjaw and seems to contemplate speaking for a few long seconds... before swallowing his interest and leaving the question of interment to the dwarves.

In open voice he adds "We need rest... then we should return to destroy the ghasts."

"He shall have a warrior's pyre."

Karrak finds some cloths and begins to clean the body of his fallen comrade as best he can. His urgrosh is returned to Aktosh. (He made it, right?)

"He would want this put to good use, killing evil things." When ready, he will seek out wood and a suitable place to build a pyre where the smoke can escape.

Chitleen takes the first opportunity to return to his lab leaving the dwarves to deal with their dead. Aktosh accepts the weapon gratefully. "No, I did not craft this fine weapon, it was made by the ancestors that once dwelled herein. I am not so great a warrior as Tararr, but I swear to Kols that I will put it so the best use I can."

He looks sadly at the dead dwarf, thinking deeply. "Cremation is not our way, but this cursed mine leaves us little choice. It is a long journey to any other desert dwarf settlement and we would not be welcomed anyway. It should take place under sheltering stone, but perhaps near the entrance as far from the tainted mines as possible."

Seamus only looks on having arrived lately to the seen, it would be in bad taste to speak.

Back amongst the witch's alchemical apparati, Chitleen first slumps in a corner to get some degree of rest. Eyes open and mind working, he remains recumbent for a span of minutes before nodding, setting jaw and forcing himself to rise. Time is then spent brewing and fabricating more of the stodgy sticky missiles.

Lockjaw harumphs as Tararr's fate is decided, before seeing to the proper disposal of his shell.

"Torag! A warrior comes to ya. Tell tha grumpy basterd I'll be seein' 'im soon."

Truther and Trathis brought a fair amount of wood and oil in the last caravan so you have the materials for the pyre although more wood will be needed soon. If your bosses don't return soon, a logging trip to the Forest of Tombs might be needed.

Although weary, there is no rest for the dwarves as they toil to stack a bier to lay Tarrar upon for cremation near the entrance of Zolurket. Finally it is done and you wipe the sweat from your brows and prepare to burn the fallen dwarf.

any final farewell from Karrak?

There is no time to set up a proper forge, so Karrak sets up a small anvil and uses it to tap out a rhythm while he chants a song of praise to Torag. He extols the deeds of Tarrar as best he can, inviting his companions to speak if they wish. Finally he says a prayer to Torag. "Father of Creation, accept this brave warrior into your halls. He always had my back and he never backed down from a fight. Tararr Trollsplitter, he was called. I never saw him split a troll but he killed plenty of gnolls and accursed undead. May his name not be forgotten." Karrak holds a torch to the bier to light it.

*Tinker, clink, squidge, splurt, hiss, tinker, clink, clink*

The bier catches quickly engulfing the shrouded form upon it in an inferno within moments. Thick black smoke rises toward the battlements guarding the lost mine's entrance and a faint exiting breeze guides it to the sky beyond. Those in attendance stand silently; watching and reflecting until the fire begins to fail and charred remains and burned wood collapses though embers continue burning through the night. What is left of the bones can be gathered in the morning, but for now, it is time to get what rest you can.

8 Ersatus. Next day and preparations.

Awakening to the mine yet again, the shadows and bags beneath Chitleen's eyes seem to only be darker and deeper than they were the day before. Clothes unkempt and with little attempt to straighten them he approaches Karrak "Have you the means to bless further water to make it burn those that should not live again?"

Karrak stares at the elf for a moment, trying to decide whether to be offended that he was not present at Tarrar's memorial. Deciding to put it down to elven strangeness, he answers.

"I can make a couple each day. I will prepare some."

The elf naps lightly working in shifts to replenish his alchemical weapons. He looks bedraggled the next morning as he delivers his request to the dwarf priest.

so sounds like 1 holy water and a tanglefoot bag are produced. Anything else?

Lockjaw watches the ceremony in silence, then goes back to his nest to meditate on Torag's will, and the death of a companion. Limited thoughts flow through his mind as he chews absently on the head of his new hammer.

Aye - one each of tangle and holy water - giving Chit 2 x holy water and 1 x tangle.

Chitleen nods at Karrak's words "Let us be off... there are beasts to put down. We should be wary but strike as a hammer upon the anvil, as respite would only make them stronger."

Before heading off, Chitleen would use a darkvision attar... but I'm not sure how Seamus sees in the dark?

Later in the day, the adventurers gather in the courtyard of the caravanserai to prepare for another foray against the Shoosuva. Although Tarrar's absence is keenly felt, a sense of purpose resonates through the survivors. It is as if Torag himself has blessed your mission to purge the blasphemous undead from the mine. Aktosh and the two elderly former slaves see you off and bolt the caravanserai gates behind you.
All-+2 sacred bonus against death effects.

The group moves back down the promenade past the broken statues and graffiti illuminated by the outside light that filters into the front of the Grand Transept. At the district wall, you note that the pile of corpses near the gate has been reduced to a small reeking mound of bone chips and detritus. Whatever was in there appears to have eaten its fill and moved on.

Once past the wall that divides the transept, the light quickly dims. Chitleen applies an attar to grant darksight like the dwarves, but Seamus finds himself hindered by the loss of light.

(Earlier...)

Anyone need healing, I have a couple of slots left.

After recovering from his remaining wounds with a good night's rest, Karrak meditates at the anvil while praying for his daily spells.

Karrak offers to cast Light on an item of Seamus' choice.

I'm at 18 out of 59, tomorrow will see my Con restored and my HP to 23, so any spare healing you have would be welcome.

"So, we retarn. What beastie to clear oot t'day?"

Lockjaw hefts his hammer and shield, ready to take bearded vengeance for the fallen.

"The white and dead gnolls, we have blunted them - but now they needs be broken"

Previous night's healing on Lockjaw, if that is ok:
CLW: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8
CMW: 2d8 + 5 ⇒ (6, 5) + 5 = 16

no problem. So Lockjaw at 47/59?

The halfling's light is the only flicker in the gathering murk as the party moves to the ornamented and domed treasury. The doors at the top of the stairs are shut once more, but no skeletal guards remain to fire upon you as the password is tried once again and the heavy doors creak open.

47/59, yar.

Lockjaw eyes the murder holes with suspicion and moves on.

"Why shut 'em if ya don't bar 'em?"

"Perhaps they don't wish to discourage visitors." Chitleen looks to guide the party back to where they last encountered the ghasts.

The carnal stench of ghast strikes you as you enter the central court of the building. Likely they are near and perhaps only just left this chamber. You again pass the ancient carvings commemorating losses and victories as you circumnavigate the great monument to the defiled shrine room. The doors are open and inside only the rubble of the corrupted earth elemental remains. The door to the Gremlin Tower is closed, but the unexplored opposite door is open.

Nudging one of those garbed in steel, Chitleen directs them towards the unexplored door.

"Aye, Chitleen, I'm on it."

Lockjaw moves forward and examines the opening for any obvious traps.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14

"Let me have a look." Karrak squints at the door knob and frame, and detects magic for good measure.

perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

"Don't see anything!"

It takes a moment or two for Karrak to realize what he is seeing. Two old tables stand nearby to the right side piled with a grotesque banquet. A rib cage lies open and emptied of all the organs within, bare except for strips of muscle and skin dangling from the thin curved bones. A head gapes eyeless and tongueless with toothmarks embedded in the cheeks. It is likely not wise to further dwell upon the remains of such horrible acts.

At the other end of the room, several corpses hang from the ceiling. There is a faint popping sound which you realize comes from the maggots dropping from the dangling cadavers. A pair of closed double doors stand across the way.

In a sussurant whisper Chitleen laments "Pour ce soir, ils prennent le souper avec la plus blanche de la viande" before adding "We will cut them down after we have dealt with them." nudging Lockjaw towards the double doors.

As he walks Chitleen is keeping a wary eye for traps

"Eh, best make sure the' ain't undead."

Lockjaw casts his gaze upon the hanging corpses before moving to the double doors and testing the handle.

Detect Evil.

Karrak grimaces and steps inside and aims his crossbow at the double doors, motioning for the warriors to move forward.

"Glory be to Kurgess. What a horrid mess.", the little warrior murmurs as he moves along with Lockjaw prodding the corpses with his lance as they pass.

Though vile, Lockjaw doesn't detect any supernatural evil from the hanging carrion or the dark feast, but there is definitely evil here. A faint emanation comes from the double doors.

Carefully testing the doors, no trap is activated and they swing open easily. The long narrow chamber beyond is lined with cells which seem to have served as small workshops though little has been left behind; only a couple worktables, a broken stool and empty shelves. It opens into a square chamber with tall shelves that look to have been a library of sorts. Now most of the shelves are broken or sagging and scraps of brown parchment molder in heaps. As soon as you enter the place the scent of death which has been pervasive since the dining hall becomes overwhelming.

passing ghast- fort DC 15 or sickened.

Fort: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

Ay, let's be through here quickly!"

Fort: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

Chitleen forestalls the rise of bile through force of will and nods "They are near..."

Any exits through? - or have we hit a dead end.

Fort 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

"Phew! Smells like an ill ogre's loin cloth in here."

Any exits through? - or have we hit a dead end.

The ramshackle shelves obscure much of the room, but there is a pair of doors centered on the right wall.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

Seeing the lurking creatures, Karrak calls for a halt while trying to topple the shelves over on top of the ghasts.

Strength: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19

I'll roll initiative once I've got everyone's surprise roll.

Perception 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21

"We 'ave trouble, lads.", the wee man says through gritted teeth.

Perception: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (8) + 13 = 21