Palace of the Vampire Queen (Inactive)

Game Master Terquem

"Hal that wedding party and the gifts we were told 'bout, how'd that story go again?" He will take a look at the boot and gold coin when stephanie is done.

appraise, gold: 1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 7 + 2 = 26

He'll take both items if nobody else does.

"Stand still will ya." Windel waddles after Rownig and tabs him again with a cure spell.CLW: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

wish list cure wand. Healing the party is eating up spells/channels.

"Which part?" Hal shrugged. "The important parts are that every one of the wedding gifts is cursed and bound to the spirit of someone who died in the shipwreck that landed them here. Anyone who carries one of the gifts, gets possessed themselves, goes crazy, and calls creatures of death to them."

"The curse is dormant when the gifts are in the boxes that were originally used to transport them."

"The Vampire Queen thinks that if she gathers them all she can use them to bind the souls of a goblin demigod and the Helmsman's bride into a body to raise up as an offering to the Helmsman, and he'll end her curse. If she succeeds, its not going to impress him. Its going to piss him off."

Day 8, 9:30 pm (turn 131)The Dungeon is in Darkness, there is no light source

When Stephanie is finished with the coin she hands it to Rownig, who is still being tended by the patient Windel and already retrieving the discarded boot. The healing of the good cleric is practically ignored by Rownig as he examines the gold coin, and the boot.

The party regroups and begins moving northward. After about sixty feet or so, another double door is found on the left.
Please make a perception roll here, the DC to discover something important is 20

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22

Looks like Miagnik got it.

Hal moved to his usual position to the front, next to Rownig, waiting quietly while the door was checked.

perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27
+2 traps

Rownig gingerly moves to the front. "voices? Motioning ahead.

Perception/Stephanie: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15
Perception/Whiskey: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30

Stephaine walks with the group mind still locked on why the troll would have a single coin regardless of its age.
"Mistress. Stephaine does her best to avoid jumping but a small squeak does escape. I never noticed how stone cursed quiet whiskey could be until he started talking. Oh I hope it isn't something stupid. Stephaine hopes as she looks to the bird in question.
"Yes whiskey?" the gnome asks keeping he voice down
"Mistress there are some people further down the hall saying things, they keep messing it up and trying again though. Perhaps they are related to the green mouse thief."
"What do you mean whiskey I don't hear anything. Stephanie asks as she suppresses a pang of guilt
"Yes they keep saying things with too many consonants and it must be falling out the sides of their mouth like extra soup. Then they say it again, sounds like your Dwarf friends wordy things this morning."
"Wait we didn't have any soup this morning. Oh you mean his morning prayers. So you mean it sounds like there is someone praying down that way?" Stephaine asks her frustrating feathered companion.
"If that's what you say Mistress."

Rownig gingerly moves to the front. "voices? Motioning ahead.

"Yeah, maybe praying. We should see what that is before opening this door." he whispered.

He looked back at the others."Everyone who can move quietly should come. Everyone else stay back for a bit."

Miagnik then began to creep forward toward the chanting.
Stealth: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29

After listening with her oversized ears for a moment, Mae creeps up after Miagnik...

Stealth: 1d20 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (15) + 5 - 1 = 19 [-1 for still wearing armor...]

Rownig moves along with Miagnik.

stealth: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

Still feeling some pain form his troll wounds the dwarf does his best to keep up with Miagnik's stealth.

Seeing the others begin sneaking Stephanie does her best to stay quiet as well. Though she keeps to the back of the group hoping to avoid spoiling their attempt.
stealth: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21

Windel lets the others get ahead before he begins to walk. Hate all these sneaky steps. His armor clinks and clanks a bit.

Day 8, 9:30 pm (turn 131)The Dungeon is in Darkness, there is no light source

Hallister allows Rownig, Miagnik, and Maelodakh to sneak ahead of the group even further than normal, as he makes a gesture with his hand to slow the rest of the group. Moralane draws an arrow and moves up directly behind Hallister, while Atharessa moves in behind Windel and Stephanie

perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13

Moving to the north, with the others a good way behind them, the three in the lead finally come to a turn in the passageway and another pair of double doors. The doors are in the north wall, just before the passageway turns to the south.

Standing by the doors, the three of them, Rownig, Miagnik, and Mealodakh can now hear, very clearly, an unusual series of chants, coming from the other side of the doors

Whiskey will hear this as well

Miagnik whispered to the rest. "Sounds like he's in pain. I'm going to try the doors. Rownig, if the doors are locked you're up. If not, Mae you get ready to force the doors."

Miagnik will try to open the doors.

Day 8, 9:30 pm (turn 131)The Dungeon is in Darkness, there is no light source

When Miagnik pushes on the closest door to him, it swings effortlessly inward.

Miagnik, Rownig, and Maelodakh immediately see an old, dwarven man lying on the ground in a small, featureless chamber. He is wearing tattered pants and a torn shirt, both in dull brown colors.

The dwarf has no shoes, and you can see that his left foot has been removed above the ankle, and then looking over him closely, you see that his right arm, below the elbow is also gone. The wounds appear to be partially healed, but not well and there are tourniquets applied to the stumps of his limbs. His face is pale, his eyes are shut, and his beard is filthy. He mutters over and over a simple prayer. He appears to be completely unaware of your arrival.

Miagnik's face had a mixed look of shock and a little bit of pity at the Dwarf on the floor.

"Umm, one of you might want to get Windel now." he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Then without so much as another word he walked right up to the Dwarf and used the stored up healing magic he had in his Dragon ring.

Cure light Wounds: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

Rownig will go back to fetch Windel.

Day 8, 9:30 pm (turn 131)The Dungeon is in Darkness, there is no light source

When Miagnik touches the dwarven man, he lets out a loud moan, rolls on to his back, and tries to cover his face with his arms

Uhhh, no, no, no more I beg please, leave me alone, please.

When the healing spell is completed, the dwarf takes a deep breath, and stiffens, and then cries out,

No, no, don't take anymore of me, kill me please, I beg you just be done with it

Stephaine had been behind the rest of the group peeking into the room once Maignik had moved forward to free a space, on seeing the wounded man the gnome had paused a look of concern on her face. why is he down here, why alone and not with the other prisoners?
It takes very little of the man speaking before understanding strikes like lightning. Stephanie very nearly vomits on Windel putting a hand up to hold back the bile before finding a corner.
"Oh ancestors..*Hic* would this have been my fate as well?" the gnome asks in a low voice as tears fall off her downturned face, still not trusting herself enough to stand back up for fear of a repeat.

I don't suppose Stephanie recognizes this dwarf as a man in her fathers guard or something similar?

Mae scrumples her face in disgust as she runs her gaze over the filthy, distressed and possibly contagious figure.

"Well. He might have tried a little harder with his deportment. [sighs dramatically] I guess we should provide more of this much needed aid and assistance. Unfortunately, he is a rather scruffy dwarf, and also I am not very good at…doing that. Mostly I finish these sort of jobs, not stop to provide succor….Uhm [notices Stephanie voiding her stomach all over the flagstones in the corner] Really Stephanie, grow a backbone! We're at war…or something."

Seeing the feverish dwarf's stunned expression at her commentary she fixes him with her flawless royal smile, flashes her not-so pearly yellows and graces him with:

"Hello. I am Maelodakh. The Listener. Who might you be, and who in all the worlds took your limbs?

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (18) - 1 = 17

Miagnik is stunned by the Dwarf's reaction to the healing magic.

"I... uh, what? We... we're not here to take any of you." he tries to explain.
"If anything, I guess we're here to rescue you. Who or what did this to you?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16

I really need to put some ranks into that next level.

Well one of us should aid the other…:p

@Terquem - seeing as Miagnik is first responder, can we say Mae aided his Diplomacy check?

Unfortunately the current speak-y type is busy vomiting in sympathy for the pain this tortured soul is in. I'm highly considering trying to obtain the Share Language spell So whiskey can talk to others. sharing ranks with Stephaine Whiskey would actually be fairly diplomatic. Then we could be the team with an angry owl face.

Day 8, 9:30 pm (turn 131)The Dungeon is in Darkness, there is no light source

Upon hearing Maelodak’s and Miagnik’s words, the rough looking dwarf breaks down even further and begins to sob heavily,

Oh thank the gods. I thought this would never end, never end. Here, help me sit up.

When he is helped into a sitting position, he asks for water
Do you have any water, anything at all to drink? I can’t remember
the last time I ate or drank. I think it’s been days

After he is offered a drink he tells his story

My name is Dwarbon Desdorelli and I’ve made a terrible mistake. I had a shop in Threewillows. Our village was being attacked night after night by a kind of undead that we were powerless to stop. I took it upon myself to search out the origin of these attacks and my research lead me here to this tomb. I hired a group of mercenary soldiers to make the journey here and try to discover some way to put an end to this curse, but the mercenaries turned on me. They sold me out to a dwarven woman named Omara. She gave me over to a troll who is the keeper of a band of demons. It is his job to keep the demons well fed, and that is what he’s done to me. First he fed a dwarf who was captured here a week or so ago to the demons, and then he cut of my arm and fed that to them. When they demanded to be fed again, he cut of my foot and fed that to them.

Now listen to me, this is important. I’ve learned, from this troll, that Omara plans to betray the vampire queen. I do not know the plans of the vampire queen, or what the nature of this betrayal is, but the troll made no secret of telling me that when the betrayal is complete the demons will be free. He also told me that the demons are named Jargo and Tardo. They are bound to a room that is reached by following the passageway outside of this chamber as it follows in a circle to the south. But, listen to me, listen to me. That room is the trap, a fiendish trap. I don’t know what kind of trap but the troll laughs hysterically about it whenever he returns from feeding the demaons.

"Wond'rful, a sadistic troll, two demons, a trapped room, and a betrayal all in one tomb. Just fantastic." His demeanor turns a bit sour. "You don't h've to worry 'bout that troll no more."

"Fight'n demons gonna take some serious plannin'. You any idea what type of demons this Jargo and Tardo may be. Yeh, I know they like the taste of dwarf flesh...got that bit already." His hand wraps tightly around his axe.

know planes: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16

"I've heard of Dwarves jokingly congratulating each other because they sometimes Drink like Demons, and once heard somebody who knew someone else who supposedly saw the hero Maelodakh fight." he gestures to Mae. "And refer to Maelodakh as someone who fought like a demon, but I've never actually thought to learn anything about them. They sound terrifying."

He thinks for a bit.

"If this room is supposedly a trap, and these demons were being fed by the Troll, presumably the one we just killed, then I think we should just let them sit there and starve. That bit you said earlier, Rownig, about leaving certain doors left closed. This might be another one."

"I know we came down here with the intention of checking more of this place out, but we can't really just leave Dwarbon here. Though I'd hate to think there are others like him and we didn't check. Dwarbon did you hear of any others down here besides you and that other Dwarf?"

"Demons." Hal muttered. "Lovely."

"Windel, is it safe t' move him?"

As the dwarf relates his tale of woe Mae becomes quiet, and makes conspicuous glances at the dwarf's... stumps. Where bits of him were...removed... and fed... to other sentient creatures. If the dim light would allow it to be seen, or her goblinic hide able to show it, the noble lass' pales a little, and becomes a little... pensive.

A good man, with trust in those who were stronger, and in numbers. Who sold him out to this fate. If I ever find them....

The good princess is rocked from her cogitation by the good goblin Miagnik singing her praises. She brightens considerably, graces Dwarbon with her trademarked "winning smile" and nods in agreement with such an intelligent summation of her own prowess.

"Yup. A veritable demon."

At mention of moving the dwarf and avoiding the demons Mae is suddenly brusque.

"What?" she says somewhat confusedly.

Windel will give the dwarf a good once over making sure he can be moved. He will also direct the others to find items to use to trasnport him - he thinking like stretcher. 'We'll need a stretch'r or somethin'"

heal: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

The cleric gets an excellent diagnosis of the patient.

"He's dead weight if we explore wit 'im...no offense intended...or will be a sittin' duck if we leave 'im. May as well sentence 'im t'die if we leave 'im." The rogue rubs his chin. "We should regroup, heal up, and see if we can get some help, then come back." Shaking his head. "We ain't gonna do anyone any guud if we die here without first telling them what we've learned."

"We've been pushing' our luck as it is. Lets get him outta here, resupply, and head back in when we're prepared t' face demons."

Miagnik nodded with the rest. "Right, don't worry Dwarbon. We'll get you back to your home in Threewillows."

He slung his pack around and rummaged through it for a moment, before he pulled out a fairly neat and bundled roll. "I have a full square yard of linen here. Didn't think I'd use it for this but it sure will be easier to carry you around." He eyed his long spear. "I guess we can use this as one side of the stretcher. We'll need something else for the other side."

He rummaged through his pack again and came back up with a short 20 ft. length of rope. "We can tie this back and forth between the two sides of the stretcher to make a carrying support under the Linen. One of you Dwarves give him your bedroll and we'll lay it on top."

"Good thinkin'" Windel says. "Hal you got staff or pole in your gear for the other handle."

Here take my spear

the girl says holding out her weapon

Moralane, get on the other side and help me tie this down. We'll get him ready to move, while the rest of you make sure the coast is clear

Rownig resumes his position at point. "Ready when you are."

perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15

He leaves the others to lift the chest of gold.

Day 8, 9:30 pm (turn 131)The Dungeon is in Darkness, there is no light source

As the two dwarven women begin building a stretcher, the dwarf answers the questions being put forth

Type of demon? No, I don’t know. The troll never talked about them other than their taste for flesh, though he didn’t seem to be intimidated by them, and only spoke of them as more of a chore than anything else, oh and that he would laugh every time he fed them. I also got the impression he didn’t communicate with them at all. Often he would, the troll that is, talk about things he was told to do, by Omara, and some other troll, he called that one King Vard.

Maelodakh, the brave? the dwarf squints at her I’ve heard people talk about you, and your family. The word is, that all of you are dead. A new goblin king claims the throne.

In a short time the stretcher is built, and Atharessa insists on lying on it as Moralane lifts one end, to test it. Confident it will support him, she and Moralane carefully lift the dwarf onto the fabric, and then hoist the poles.

He’s not that heavy, Moralane says.

Thank you, all of you, I can’t believe my good fortune. I thank all of you, and want to reward you. Look over there, at the south wall, there is a secret door. Before they cut my foot off, they had me chained up to a large iron ball in a small room beyond that door. They took my bag, and threw it in the corner. It doesn’t have much, just some extra clothing, and some rations, but hidden in the lining of the bag is a small coin purse where I placed some gold coins in case of emergency. You can have all of it, all that I have, and when we are back in Threewillows I’ll gladly give you more, for saving an old fools life.

In the backpack you will find fifty gold pieces, some clothes and rations that are dried, but not spoiled, suggesting the fellow has been here for several days.

You easily make it back to the top of the stairs, and the skeletal remains are just as you left them a short while ago. When you pass them the dwarf says

Ah, I see you disposed of the skeletons, funning thing. When I was handed over to the troll, it was just near here and when we passed this way, the troll held out his hand, and without speaking a word the skeletons withdrew from the hall as if they were frightened of the troll. I’ve never heard of anything like that before.

The Chest will require four hands to carry, Atharessa and Moralane are carrying Dwarbon, that leaves Hallister, Windel, Rownig, Maelodakh, Stephanie and Miagnik to decide who will be the lucky ones to lead the group out

Windel chuckles with the gold offer. "Golds not really an issue right now." Windel will grab one handle.

Rownig shakes his head and shrugs when he sees the expression on Miagnik's face. "Yeah, well Miagnik can lead us out of here, Hal, and Mae if you can assist Windel and me with the chest."

"Yeah, I'll lead you out."

"We ain't takin' yer money. Yer gonna need it a lot more'n we will. Eat somethin'. You look like you need it." Hal says grabbing a corner of the chest.

Mae sidles up next to Miagnik to keep point also after consoling the clever patient, head held just a little higher now she is "famous".

"Yes, keep your gold. In fact I'll contribute to any magic or mystic aid you might desire to replace your le-...bits."

Mae thinks hard suddenly.

"Speaking of gold, coins and magic - did the troll by any chance wave a magic coin in his hand to make the skeletons obey him? We found a magic coin in his nest..."

Hal's eyes narrow in thought. "The undead are rising because they are possessed by the spirits of the wedding party, or something like that, right?"

"Think the coin was from one of the wedding gifts? Row, you got a good look at it. Was it old?"

Rownig actually has the coin. "The coin looked foreign, and stamp wass a pudgy human woman’s profile, while on the other tail side had a oblong ball like thing covered in scales. Looked foreign."

"Oh, I think I h've yer boot." Rownig tells Dwarbon.

The dwarf takes the boot, in his hands and closes his eyes, his expression is serious,as he fingers the boot lovingly. Then after holding the boot for a few moments he begins to laugh

ha, haha, hehehahaha

When Atharessa asks him, Is that not your boot?

He answers

No, no, it is certainly mine

Then what is so funny? Moralane innocently asks

Well, it's for the foot I don't have anymore, hahaha

Atharessa snorts, and Moralane can't help but chuckle, which then leads to the three of them all laughing together.

@Terq - Mae's question - Does Dwarbon think the troll held the coin?