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Adventure: The World’s Largest Dungeon
Starting Cast:
- Escagwyndorian of Tilverton “Dorian” male halfelf Favored Soul (going for Mystic Theurge)
- Indolyn Moonleaf “Indy” male halfelf Duskblade
- Malar Thornbristle male human Scout
Warning: we are using the Forgotten Realms setting but we are not playing to Realms cannon.
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The End of Summer
I suppose that most, if not all fledgling adventurers assume that they are destined for fame and fortune. I wonder how many though have the conviction that their path to greatness is laid out by the very hand of a god?
When I turned 25 I began to experience, what Jephyr our Halfling footman called wander lust. He said he wouldn’t expect it to be any less pressing in his own “young ens.” and the only way to get rid of it was to take to roaming.
I knew that it wasn’t a bad case of Halfling-ism but rather the gentle nudging of my god. See I am not sure who it is that looks after me but I know that he (or she, but I’ll not be making that distinction) is. My parents loved each other and loved their work. I was often left to my own devices even as a small boy. But I never felt unloved and I never felt lonely. Later I began to realize that there was always a presence with me. In some ways it comforted me and kept out of harm’s way.
One time I was walking down the old country road that lead into town and noticed something sparkling off to the side. I turned to investigate just as an out of control carriage came barreling down the way! It barely missed me and I am sure if I had not turned aside I would have been run over. Ever since then I have been keenly aware that my guardian would leave little tell-tale signs to guide me.
As I grew I discovered that I possessed innate magical abilities. Although there were lots of sorcerers and wizards in and traveling through Tilverton, none could heal or harm the way I could. My powers were more akin to the clerics in town. My parents had me inspected by the local churches but most priests were appalled by talents. I had no divine training nor did have a true faith. I tried to explain my guardian presence to one kindly cleric but he just laughed. “Gods don’t interact with common people that way, son.”
Now I am on the cusp of adulthood. Somewhere out there my god is calling me to his purpose. He has prepared me for whatever is to come if I will only bravely seek it out. While convinced that I need only take the first step for the rest of my path to become clear I also realize that I may need some assistance. I turned to a fellow halfelf, Indolyn, who I knew to be trained with the sword. As my guardian so destined, Indolyn was eager to embark on an adventure himself. We decided to purchase some supplies and head out the next morning.
Although not blacksmiths, my parents specialized in making ornate and exquisite arms and armor. As a going away gift, they allowed me to select anything I wanted from their stock. After carefully inspecting all manor of blades there was one weapon lying in a corner that caught my eye. It was a simple iron mace, more like a club than the elaborate flanged maces on the wall. It was different and felt extremely “right” for me. My father said this was actually not one of their pieces and wasn’t even sure where it came from. I knew my god left it for me so I claimed it.
In town I visited various shops and stalls, purchasing all kinds of equipment that seemed appropriate for a life of adventure (including this fine writers kit). I ended up at an armory. All of the armor felt awkward and limiting so I settled on just a shield. There were several to choose from so I asked my guardian for help. Then I noticed once of the wooden shields looked more abused than the rest. The shopkeeper told me it belonged to an elderly soldier who said it served him well. The wooden planks we’re well weathered but solid and the steel caps tight. But the most distinguishing feature was the insignia. Someone had painstakingly painted a pair of stink root mushrooms on the shield in such livid detail they almost appeared real. I bought the shield immediately.
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1371, The Fading 12
At dawn Indy met me at the north gates and we took off towards Black Pit, a city renowned as the place were adventure starts. With the coal and gem mines in the Desertsmouth mountains to one side and the vast Anauroch Desert to the other, Black Pit is continually besieged with treasure hunters and thrill seekers. This seemed like a more suitable place to hear my guardian’s calling than the more civilized lands of Cormyr and the Dalelands.
As we started Indy noticed I wasn’t able to keep up with him. I evidently went a little overboard with my equipment purchases and it was weighting me down slightly. He offered to carry some of my gear, to which I accepted. We walked and we walked and then we walked some more. That evening we stopped at the cross roads. To the northeast continued the road into the Shadow Gap and Shadowdale. To the southwest ran the trade route the Zhentarim use. To the northwest was the trail that skirts the Desertsmouth mountains and leads to our destination. We camped here for the night with a lively bunch of Halflings and their caravan of wagon-homes.
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1371, The Fading 13
I slept like the dead. For when I awoke the next morning, the Halflings had already packed and started up the Northride. I had my morning devotional time and then off we went. I sure hope there is more to a life of adventure than walking all the day long.
Early in the evening we finally rounded a hill that revealed a gently downward slope that lead to Black Pit and eventually the Anauroch wasteland. It was already dark in the shadows of the Desertsmouth Mountains so we hurried through the outlying shanty town to the gates of the city proper.
Two tired looking, sooty guards flanked the archway. “Halt. State your business.” the shorter man said while the other appeared to look us up and down.
“We have heard that this is the gateway to adventure…” I started.
“Fine. Proceed.” the guard replied, rolling his eyes. The taller man said something under his breath in regards to my shield, but I chose to ignore his obvious envy.
Black Pit was laid out much like Tilverton: a large market square at the cross point of the two major thoroughfares, and a myriad of side streets leading off to unknown locales. Most of the buildings were squat and crowded together. A thin layer of coal dust muted everything, lending to an overall sullen atmosphere. For a place reputed for it’s magnificent gems there is a definite lack of glitter in Black Pit.
On the southwest corner of the market square sat a slightly more kept establishment called the White Peak Inn. We entered a warm common room with a relatively quite feel. The innkeeper introduced himself as Holfast Harpenshield. I gave him a gold piece in exchange for a room with two beds and a hearty breakfast in the morning. He loves tales of adventure and seems more than happy to be accommodating. I enquire about anything going on and he tells of that the most common news around town has to do with some recent seismic activity out in the desert. A new fissure has opened in the Scimitar Spires and a supposedly poisonous gas has been seeping out of the depths. There have more monster raids of late which are being attributed to the happenings in those regions.
My god is not even trying to be subtle. However, I would feel more comfortable if we had more muscle. Next I ask the proprietor where we might recruit some fellow adventurers. We are directed to a rather noisy, well lit bar across the square. “Just follow the sounds!”
Finally, we were warned that there is an adventurer’s guild in town and we must be registered and licensed to openly carry weapons. Since it is already late we decided to leave our gear in our room.
We enter the market square as the local lamplighters are removing hoods from atop generously spaced poles. Some sort of magical light radiates out to keep the open area relatively lit. The next most obvious landmark is a huge black obelisk in the center of the square. I wonder if this is an artifact from the desert?
We cross the square, following the noises of unenthusiastic merriment. The Dragon’s Flagon is the obvious hot spot. We enter the bar and scan the room. Closest to the door sat a group of somewhat subdued dwarves, talking amongst themselves. Several other tables held small parties engaging in the most reasonable pastime in such a depressing place. A lone gentleman sits close to the bar next to an especially rowdy table of ruffians.
“I want to take off early so let’s take it easy,” I cautioned.
“I have a lot of gold and a lot of me” Indy replied with a seductive grin.
I rolled my eyes and tried to sound parental. “I paid for your bed. You better be in it…by yourself.”
But I needn’t have worried. There are hardly any women in Black Pit. And not a single one of them was in the Dragon’s Flagon this evening. Indy made his way toward the center of the room while I headed towards the bar. The ruffians where having a time at trying to out boast each other in all manor of topics ranging from fights to women. The lone stranger must have had his fill because he clearly suggested they were full of excrement. They pushed back and advanced on the lone smartass.
Four against one didn’t seem fair, so thinking quickly I ordered three beers and forcibly slammed them down on the stranger’s. table The raucous men advanced and punches started flying! The leader of the drunken miners hit the stranger. As the greatest threat, I backed up slightly and charged him, knocking him a good ways back. Ignoring the sucker punches from his buddies, I grabbed the leader in a bear hug. Out of the corner of my eye I saw one of the assailants get knocked out cold and up onto the bar by a single punch from the stranger.
“I am not going to jail!” I yell. There was no way I was going to let this stinking lot cause me to end up in prison on my first night in town. In my mind I feel the negative energies that could end this man’s life…but the moment passes and I know I need to get this resolved through wit.
Indy flashed arcane lights into the faces of two of the attackers but one gets in a good hit anyway. Then I take a numbing punch to the ribs but use his momentum to finally pin his arms out of the way. Another ruffian is knocked out with an amazing swing from the stranger. I hear the bar keep yelling out the door for the guards.
“I do not want to go to prison. You don’t want to go to prison. Why don’t I buy you a beer and let’s drop this before the guards get here,” I encourage the drunk man. He looks around at the state of his friends and grudgingly agrees. There is hope after all! I let go and he pushes away. As the guards (purple dragons none the less) enter the bar Indy and I are sitting at the table with the stranger and drinking a toast to our new friends. We finally convince the guards that all is well and we help the ruffians pay off the barkeep.
The stranger turned out to be a scout named Malar. But before we had a chance to discuss our venture with him the barkeep approached us. He hesitantly gave us an envelope and said it was the three of us. What?
Meet me in the town square in 2 hours. This is most urgent!
Darius Underhill
“Nothing happens to me by chance. Our meeting, this letter, it is all the machinations of a greater power propelling us always forward,” I declare ominously. Malar can’t help but to agree to accompany us. He appears as interested in following my destiny as Indy and he obviously can take of himself. Excellent! We head back to the inn to gather up our gear. License or no license I am not entering into this meeting unarmed. In the room I notice Malar eyeing my shield with a cautious mix of envy and awe.
Back in the square, no one is around. We approach the obelisk just it screams out “Nine o’clock and all is well!” scaring the living daylights out of me. There is a huge magical mouth set in the pillar. I wonder how it works? A cowled man approached us and introduced himself as Darius. He explains that we have been chosen by his master to track down a strange fellow that passed through town a week ago. The newcomer was convinced that a great power lay in the Scimitar Mountains and went after it. For the reward of 500 gps apiece we were tasked to search for the stranger and if at all possible “handle” the situation.
When asked for clarification we were told the man called himself Dreadmage and gave off an uneasy aura. His voice seemed to come from someplace else and he may have had a tail. We were to discover whatever he was after and report back. Then Darius produced a map that his master used to indicate where our quarry was heading. As I was about to ask for an advance, Darius conveniently tensed up and said “We’re been watched.” Then poof, he was gone.
Before we completely registered the absence of the old man, three huge rats appeared before us! With the quickness only a true warrior displays, we sprang into action. Indy produced a flaming sphere of stone and lobed it toward one of the vile vermin. Malar lunged toward another rat and used his momentum to swing a mighty blow, cleaving the beast with just one hit. While I managed to bring my mace down on the remain creature it bit my leg with surprising ferocity. Indy swung his blade and skewered it.
The three carcasses disappeared as a few guards hurried over to see what all the commotion was about. We tried to explain the rats but without their bodies the guards were unconvinced.
“Look at his wound! His leg is bleeding profusely. How do you explain that?” Malar stated, trying to solidify our case.
“…it’s not that profusely.” I mutter.
The guards warned us against public intoxication and the displaying of weapons but didn’t really seem too concerned. We trudged off toward the White Cap Inn and to bed. Malar opted to sleep on the floor, where I assume he can keep an eye on my shield. Personally, I can’t imagine anyone breaking into our room for it, but I guess you never know. It is quite unique.
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1371, The Fading 14
After a filling breakfast (I felt that it may be awhile before we returned from the desert) we left with promises to come back with tales for Harpenshield. Out the west side of town a barely discernable track wound down out of the foot hills into the flat expanse of the Anauroch. Great, more walking…
In synch with our map we came across a wide, shallow stream at lunch. There we stopped to ensure our water skins were filled to capacity. The arid, rocky terrain had already given way to sand. A few hours later and we lost site of anything approaching green. If it weren’t for the compacted trail we were following and the broken peaks on the horizon I am sure even our scout wouldn’t be able to tell which way we were going.
A buzzing sound broke the monotony. As I strained my eyes against the setting sun to see the cause, Malar notched his bow and fired. Although he downed one of the winged creatures two more dove and latched onto him. Indy and I ran forward, unsure how to attack the overgrown mosquitoes. One sunk its huge proboscis into Malar’s side. He quickly dropped and began flailing about, trying to knock them off. Indy tried to poke at one and I infused my touch with negative energy but we couldn’t hit them without risking our companion.
Finally sated, the blood sucker dislodged. Malar slashed it, spilling his own blood all about. Indy finally stabs the last one and it dies. Even sapped of his strength, Malar wanted to press on so we walked until dusk. I kept the first watch and woke Indy halfway through the night. Maybe if Malar gets some extra rest he won’t slow us down too much.
1371, The Fading 15
It’s hot. As if walking wasn’t bad enough, walking under a blazing sun was mind numbing. Literally. The day passed more quickly than it should have. I know with autumn coming the sun was setting sooner each day, but I must have dozed off there for awhile or something. We finally arrived at the Scimitar Mountains; however, mountains may be a bit misleading. The terrain more closely resembled a forest of jagged teeth torn from the desert floor. None of the mountains looked like the conical, well-behaved monuments of the Thunder Peaks back home. We decided to camp at the bottom of the trail instead of risking our lives on the sharp rocks in the twilight.
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1371, The Fading 16
How does sand get…everywhere? I’m done with the Anauroch. I awoke everyone early and up the mountain we went. It was slow and difficult in some places (why would there even bother to be a trail here if not for my ease?). At one point a nasty snake struck at Malar so we gave it a wide berth and moved on. Sometimes a hurdle is placed in my path to ensure I will still jump, but sometimes it is obviously easier to just go around. I believe a keen awareness is more essential than blind obedience. I don’t know if it’s the heat or the throbbing in my leg where that cursed rat bit me, but I am definitely not feeling too well.
We finally ended up on a fairly large, level area about midway to the peak. Before us lay the most amazing thing I have ever seen. A giant Giant lay dead on the ground in front of a small cave. The giant was easily 5 to 6 times my height and wearing an elaborate chain mail shirt that could outfit an army. A mammoth halberd lay nearby which Indy declared as magical. There were no signs of battle and there were no apparent wounds on the giant. Most odd of all, there was no foul smell even though the giant had been dead for days.
The ground was also littered with thousands of pages of parchment! Each one was covered in alien ruins. None of us could make any sense of the writings but I kept a couple of the pages for further study. Malar investigated the cave. It turned out to be an earthen tunnel barely big enough to stand in. I suggested Malar should lead the way even though he has problems seeing in low light.
“You are the twitchy one,” I commented.
After bravely wandering a considerable distance (always slightly down) we enter into a vast stone chamber. Malar investigated some claw marks in the room entrance while Indy and I paced off the room. Nearly 70’ square, the worked stone room had two iron doors, one opposite the entrance and the other on the left wall. We concluded that someone knew the location of this room and dug their way here from the surface. But we could not find any sign of passage through either door. I suggested we take the left door since it would stand to reason the far door leads deeper into the mountain.
I cracked the door which swung open easily. There was nothing but an impenetrable darkness beyond. I pushed the door open and as my hand passed into the darkness I realized I was stuck! I could still feel the door but I could not pull my hand back out. After a moment of panic I grabbed Malar’s arm and stepped through. Once stuck himself, Malar followed me. On the other side I turned to see Indy passing through the wall of darkness. It was then that I noticed Malar had disappeared! We was there and then he wasn’t. There was some sort of invisible force blocking the door and we could not push back through from this side.
(session two)
Indy and I turned to survey the new room. We were in a large rectangular space that reached beyond our lamp light. However, we could plainly see three brutish humanoids standing over a large bundle in the adjacent corner. Indy noticed they were speaking Orcish. After neither party moved for quite some time we approached cautiously. They obviously saw us since they began squawking in their guttural language. Indy indicated they were halfheartedly trying to get us to leave. We angled to allow them plenty of room to escape.
As we approached we noticed the bundle they appeared to be protecting was in fact a large humanoid. Since the Orcs were intent on standing their ground I started to scream as I held my shield up high and charged. I swung my mace and connected solidly. The Orc retaliated with a powerful overhead swing of his massive axe…
Indy cradled my head in his arms. My head spun but I held on to consciousness. Summoning the light from within, I healed myself. The warmth seeped from my head down through my chest, my abdomen, and through my limbs. Everything ached but I was strong enough to sit up. All three Orcs were dead and there was blood all over me. Indy indicated to the large fellow on the floor next to me. Without troubling my pounding head for details I reached out and laid my hand on the figures chest. His skin felt like granite. He was cold but alive. I unleashed another wave of healing into him.
The tall man grunted, rolled over, and picked himself off the floor. He immediately reached for an immense sword leaning against the wall. With a deep sigh he turned and acknowledged us.
“I am Korg. I am in your debit.”
Korg was a Goliath, a race of barbarians as intimate with the peaks and valleys of rocky mountains as Elves are of the wood or Dwarves are of the earth. We would latter discover that he was a friend of Malar. Korg chased a band of Orcs into these mountains many days ago. He was ambushed after entering this room. His captives tormented him but did not kill him since they were also trapped in here. What befell the rest of the raiders is unknown.
While Indy searched about, Korg dressed in his scale mail and rummaged through his belongings. I removed my garments to just within the bounds of decency and proceeded to scrub at the Orc blood with water I conjured. Indy all but decapitated the Orc that bashed me into unconsciousness. It’s blood-gushing carcass landed on top of me. I offered Korg some of my rations. We’ll need to escape this dismal dungeon soon if we are to keep this giant feed. Goliaths are a towering people, but not quite as tall as true giants. However, the great sword he easily wields has a blade longer than my whole length. With Malar out of the picture, it will be reassuring to have a such a strong arm in our company.
As I lay down to recover, Korg began a long tale about his homeland (although for the life of me I have no idea where he is talking about) and the disgrace that befell him. Maybe I’ll ask him again for the particulars some day. Right then I could not focus on anything but the throbbing in my chest and leg. Stupid rats. Stupid Orcs.
I have a theory I am loath to mention to my companions. I suspect that the doorway we entered destroyed Malar. The Orcs, Korg, Indy, and myself made it through but Malar, a Human, did not…
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1371, The Fading 17
The next morning, (I should say when I awoke because I am already starting to loose my sense of time) I felt better but still not in top form. I decided to forego breakfast in hopes of extending our rations.
The large “L” shaped room appeared to wrap around the previous room. Both doors on the inner wall lead back and both are impassable. Although appreciative of my healing abilities, at times like this I wish I had more arcane knowledge. A simple dispel adjuration would probably open the way. There are two doors on the outer wall, one leading deeper into the mountain and one to the side, across from the one we entered. I vote for that one.
Indy listened to the door but could not discern any sounds. Of course swinging his sword is his true calling, not thievery. We opened the door to a discernable “click” and a curtain of flame poured put of the doorway. We all got scorched and while not debilitating, it definitely made for a discouraging start. Twitchy will be sorely missed.
We cautiously entered a fair-sized square room with moldy piles of rags and debris in all four corners. Odd… There was a mildewy smell in the heavy air and a myriad of little mushrooms on the piles. The room didn’t feel right somehow. I encouraged Korg to use his ridiculously huge sword to poke at one of the piles and it erupted into a burst of black spores that settled on the ground around the pile. I’m out. I have no desire to get poisoned this early in the day. We head through the door in the opposite wall.
We entered a strange storage space. The room was more like a wide hall intersecting another wide hall. Both legs were filled with barrels, crates, and piles of dingy sacks. Our lantern began to sputter as Indy added more oil. At this pace we’ll run out light long before we starve to death. The crates were filled with rusty tools while the barrels were filled with strong vinegar. Any sack we touched exploded into a cloud of black spores. But my diligence paid off and I noticed a glint of metal behind one crate. I scoop up the ring and stuck it in my pouch for later consideration. I would hate my fellow adventurers to fight over such a measly little gold ring.
Korg, in the meanwhile, rolled a barrel onto a sack just to watch the black spore cloud. I know he is not a barbarian but I have to wonder… He and Indy broke apart a crate and bundled the planks together to use as torches.
There was small passageway leading out of the room. Korg lead the way down the hall and around a corner. Ahead the way turned to the left and to the right. There were obvious little sounds like the scuttling of rats or the slithering of serpents but it was impossible to tell from what direction. To the left the passage ends only after ten feet or so. To the right there is door down another twenty feet. Why would someone create such a silly arrangement? There must be a secret door to the left but try as we might we could not find it. As we approached the door on the right we heard an audible twang. Fiery pain shattered my back and I stumbled into Korg’s massive back. But I couldn’t hold on and slid face first onto the cold ground. I whispered a spell to invigorate my health and passed out.
I slowly started to become aware that I was still on the cold floor. I sat up and Indy showed me the acid-dripping arrow he pulled from my back. Then the another acid arrow sliced through the air over my head and ripped into Korg’s arm. Although he didn’t squeal in pain he grimed under the burning pain. We scampered back toward to the storage room.
In the corner we set up camp. I mended my clock and used the last of my healing abilities on Korg. We slept restlessly while Indy kept guard.
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2 Waking
When I finally started to dream of nebulous divine radiance smiling down on me, Indy woke me for my watch… I would appear that I nearly died twice in the last couple of days, but you must see it from my perspective. Death was cheated my embrace twice because of the great things in store for me!
I doubt it’s actually 18th of the Fading, but I honestly have no idea what time it is. We’re awake and somewhat rested so on we go.
Indy noticed the flight path of the last arrow. We investigated the left wall once again and found the trap. We couldn’t think of how to disable it so we opted to proceed more carefully. Sure enough, no sooner did we reach the door on the opposite wall a arrow whizzed past and stuck in the wood. Korg took it (along with the previous two for his bow).
The room was a large well lit space full of tools, rope, and various mining equipment. Unlike all of the other chambers, this room did not appear to be as decayed. The hammers, spikes, picks, ropes, and the such were all in quite good condition. The light source came from behind a crate in the far corner. Korg bound over there and found a brightly glowing gold ring that fit his finger perfectly. Indy declared the ring to be have a Continuous Light spell cast upon it. This is a tremendous relief! Now we could watch each other starve to death. It was at this point that we realized that none of us ate anything the previous day and we felt fine. I should be hungry but I wasn’t. This is a great discovery! I knew my god would not forsake me.
As I stood reminiscing the finer points to being such a favored soul, Indy and Korg discovered a hidden door. By my calculations it should lead to the previous chamber with the fungal corners. The door swung open and sure enough we had come full circle. Instead of risking the fire trap in the door back to where we found Korg, I searched the remaining wall for a way out. Predictably, I found one. Unfortunately it opened into a huge room full of death and decay. The stink of dozens of decomposing goblinoids and reptilians was mind numbing. However, Korg strolled into the room and poked about for a few minutes. It was even too disgusting for him to do any serious searching though, and he soon returned. He reported that all the bodies appeared to have been slashed open. There was a door, luckily, that should open into the “L” room. Indy waded through the stench and determined the door was safe. I took a deep breath and ran through. I could not remember being so glad to see a familiar place!
After resting briefly, we head for the only door we haven’t tried. We take turns listening at the door but nothing can be heard. Korg opens the door and we flinch. Nothing happens. We stood before a long rectangular room full of old dried grass pallets. The smell is strong but not too disturbing. I would hazard a guess that this was some kind of sleeping quarters. We root around for awhile and find some pretty amazing trinkets. First we found a shell hanging from a leather necklace, an ornate dagger that probably held some ceremonial significance, and best of all, a ceramic talisman of some kind of toad-lizard thing. It was exquisite! In all my religious research I had never seen anything quite like it. Indy found another hidden door in the middle of the left wall. Too bad he can’t find traps…
We entered another “L” shaped room full of tables and chairs. Indy and Korg looted the place while I continued to ponder the exquisite statuette. Although there was a door leading out of this room, another hidden door was found. This door opened into a relatively well furnished bedroom. An ornate bed, which smelled like goblin, stood against one wall. In the middle of the room was an odd pile of dirt surrounded by several stools. Scribbles were scrawled in the dirt. After closer examination they appeared to be battle plans of some sort. Curious… Indy discovered a handful of jade hidden in a hollow bedpost. He is getting quite good at his roguish endevours. With only a set of double doors leading out, the room seemed rather defensible. Korg covered his ring and settled down to sleep. Indy and I took turns at watch.
Before falling asleep I found myself questioning the essence of my power. Always being somewhat gifted in the ways of numbers and patterns I began to theorize on the nature of magic. I pictured divine and arcane energies, distinct but coexistant like the proximity of the Ethereal plane. I am in the presence of all this divine energy but I am constantly haunted by the barely perceptible nearness of the arcane. I pray for guidance and fall asleep with gossamer curtains shimmering in my head. The curtain parts and my god beckons…
3 Waking
I realized after my devotional time that I didn’t eat yesterday. I’m not hungry or thirsty. I would attribute this blessing to my god, but my companions are also unaffected. If only we didn’t have to sleep, we could push our way to the exit. Dreadmage and his bounty be cursed for all I care!
Korg walks right up to the double doors and pulls them open. As a creature of the highlands I assume all this dungeon delving is gratting on his sensibilities. Or are barbarians always this blunt?
The hallway extends a considerable distance, but just outside the doorway lay a skeleton. Despite the ominous warning Korg steps forward. A darkness reminiscent of the human-bane one-way door into this abysmal menagerie of rooms and hallways befalls us. Indy and instinctively step back and into the room. Korg must have started swinging his massive sword because it sounded like he was trying to cleave the doors off their hinges. He yelled a blood curdling yelp of pain. Indy started to slash blindly into the wall of darkness before us as I cast an invigorating incantation in preparation for battle. There was a horrid splashing, splatter sound and the darkness disappeared as quickly as it came. A dilapidated pitch black tentacle creature lay on the floor and Korg was intently griping his wrist.
“I think it’s broke,” he said gritting his teeth.
(end of session two)
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Entry 1
I have no idea anymore how long I've been in this forsaken dungeon, let alone our temporary hide out. Something wonderfully dreadful has happened to me and I've been so enamored I failed to maintain this journal. Now so much time has passed I can't recall all the misadventures my companions and I have been through. However, since we're laying low so I can fully recover, I thought I might try to catch up.
First let me say that my dreams were beginning to gain an anxious momentum. My god, who I only ever remember as a feeling of longing peace, was beckoning me to push aside some evanescent vale of shimmering energy and join him (her?). The curtain at once seemed intangible and unmovable. This paradox plagued my waking hours and made my sleep restless until one night I finally trusted the divine calling and plunged through. True to its form I was crushed by its bludgeoning weight and soothed by its tingling radiance as I passed through. I opened my eyes and saw the veil melt into the atmosphere as if it had never really been there at all. I was awashed with an external sense of pride. I awoke more refreshed than I had been since entering this eternal maze. I also discovered during my morning meditative time that I suddenly had access to magics I never dreamed possible. The spells swimming around the fishbowl of my mind were those typically only available to learned wizards. How could this be? I could still heal with a touch but now I could also unleash arcane powers. Surely this is a gift from my deity to help fulfill my destiny!
More days drudge by as we endlessly stalk down perilous hallways, enter rooms filled with danger, and explore scenes of unexplained havoc. At one point I tried appease a team of mind-numbingly foul smelling lizard-like humanoids with the clay toad-god statue I kept for one of our earliest forays. The nasty bugger nearly killed me with its rank breath as it bit and clawed me. I smashed the idol with Stirgebane once the enemy had been dispatched. In another room a vast pack of demonic-looking rats seemed to favor attacking me over my companions. This seems to happen quite often now that I think of it...I wonder if my god has some sort of divine enmity with the patron of vermin?
We encountered more darkmantles, an ogre that dear Indy saved us from, and some foul goblinoid or such. At some point we began to backtrack according to the crude map we are trying to maintain. We came across an odd collection of rooms including a forge. I felt oddly compelled to experiment here, so I enchanted Indy's sword. I'm not sure I should have been able to accomplish such a task, but the forge and my god smiled on my mortal attempt and the sword was made anew. I'm not sure what the sword is now capable of, we'll have to see it perform in battle.
This new section of the dungeon seems filled with a different sort of beast. A tentacled slug-like thing (a "Grick" I think Indy called it) was easily hewn in half by Korg. I investigated its remains and was intrigued by its tentacles, but overwhelmingly fascinated with its beak. I carefully carved it free for further study. A few passage ways later we were attacked by the Grick's abominable cousin, an impossibly buoyant brainy Grell (again, thanks to Indy's surprisingly vast knowledge of dungeon denizens). This beast put up more of a fight, but was ultimately conquered. Unfortunately without much help from Korg, as the Grell somehow paralyzed the giant. The tentacles of this other-worldly thing were covered in deadly spines. Like the Grick, the Grell had a beak which I took and fashioned as a shoulder guard.
Unfortunately we moved on. In brash abandonment, Indy and Korg decided to take the long way around what appeared to be a vast pillar in a side chamber off the main path. Some terrible being was lurking there and covered the two men in webs, holding them fast. Malar and I ran around the other way to discover a bloated spider-man. I attacked it but only succeeded in making it angry. It bit and clawed at me and my whole body seemed to melt from the inside. Malar drove the creature toward Korg and Indy (who were still stuck in the webs). As the essence of my life seemed to drain away I cast a spell on Malar that guaranteed his next arrow would find it's mark. He chased after the thing and I followed as best I could. Twice more I enabled Malar to strike true and the cowardly creature finally died. Malar's arrows seem far deadlier when he has the opportunity to move in on his prey.
I forgot to mention that Indy seems to be suffering from some curse that befell him as he sat on a vile throne in some empty torture chamber we discovered. Every time his attack seems true he crumpled to the floor in some sort of debilitating anxiety attack. Most unfortunate really. As the spider-man ran past Indy tried to cast a fiery bolt but in his cursed madness he flung it at Korg instead! The damage was slight and it burned away the sticky webs, but Korg was very upset at having missed another battle.
Between my near lifeless state and Indy's curse we decided to hole up in a relatively defensible room for several days. And here we remain.
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Entry 2
Several more days have passed. The morning after our encounter with the bloated spider-man we holed up in defensible position to recover. Based on the abysmal way I felt and Indy's inability to function during combat, we were definitely in no position to track down the Dreadmage. However, the next morning Nimbus showed up. I may not have mentioned him much, but he shows up ever now and then and sort of gives us a nudge. He is very forthcoming with information if we ask the right questions...
On this occasion he was offering us a place to recover in complete safety. He lead us down a familiar passage but then stopped. He sang a brilliant little ditty and the wall folded away to reveal his lair. Nimbus' room was long and narrow, and decorated like a palace. Over the coarse of the next few days we had many conversations with the little ball of light. He told us that this dudgeon was created by his masters (most likely the celestrials depicted on the walls) as the ultimate prison. Their belief was that evil destroyed simply manifests elsewhere. An eternal prison removed the worse offenders from this cycle. personally, I think this asinine, but who am I to contend with the wisdom of Outsiders? All I know is that it seems a bit unfortunate to have an inescapable prison with an easy entrance. Then again, if the Dreadmage willingly entered this place he must have a plan to get out.
Nimbus also told us that the Dreadmage was using some sort of planar gate to bring in some pretty nasty monsters. No one knows why, but these new additions are interfering with the natural ecology of the place. It is his belief that our party should hunt him down and end his meddling. Perhaps this could buy our way out? Everything I learn just adds to the endless stream of questions I have.
On our last day under Nimbus' care he informed us that he wished to partake in a "surface" celebration he has studied. Evidently it is Midwinter outside the dungeon although I cannot fathom how so much time has elapsed. Nimbus suggested that time fluctuations are a side effect of the wards surrounding this mountain. To aid us on our way he presented each of us with a special gift from his collection. The bouncing ball of light summoned me first. I offered Nimbus one of the bloodstones I found earlier and he seemed quite pleased that I was helping him experience the joy of Midwinter. He indicated that I should take a small silver box from his shelf. After reflecting on the considerable craftsmanship of the box I opened the lid. Inside was a green gem the size of my fist, lambent viridian energy hinted at considerable power. Nimbus told me that the gem was able to fire a beam capable disintegrating the target once per day. I grasped the stone and felt it's vitality boiling under the surface. A wave of disorienting familiarity filled me with a sense of purpose. This was a piece of my destiny as sure as my new found arcane abilities. I am on the right path!
Indy evidently received a shield that sheds cold to point of producing little motes of ice. Malar came back grinning like a lunatic and revealed that he had been given some kind of symbiotic graft that attached to his wrist. The scout's left hand has been augmented with some sort of sentient tentacle named Torment! Even after our recent encounters with the Grick and the Grell, this deranged man has willingly traded a piece of his free will with a flailing, suction-cup covered, abomination. I cannot grasp the mind set of such a horrendous dead. Malar assured me that the the appendage is completely under his control and safe so why do I get the creeping feeling that my life is about to get more interesting? When resting the tentacle is wound around Malar's arm like a snake. When more animated, Torment reaches out a good 15 feet to strike at the wall! This is evil.
I'm finally feeling like myself again so we decide to explore a bit more. Korg has come down with something and chooses to stay behind. Come to think of it, I was so absorbed with Torment I never saw what Nimbus gave the giant... Korg let me borrow his light ring and we set out. We cautiously crept through the several hallways and filled out some empty regions on our map. The day was nearing the halfway point and we had not encountered a single threat. More relaxed, we proceeded to an immense hallway. It was easily 30 feet wide and nearly three hundred feet long. The end we entered was covered with Kobold bodies and dead darkmantles. Everything of value had already been taken. As we decide not to trek down this long gallery, we spotted a secret door. Malar began to check it for traps. We heard a low rumble that quickly escalated into an earthquake. Several large stones fell from a crevice in the ceiling and bruised me somewhat. Then we got overrun by a swarm of frightened mice. If something was chasing them we did not stick around to find out. Once through the secret door we shut it behind us.
More stalking around the endless series of tunnels finally led us to an interesting door. Someone (I wasn't paying attention) noticed a sound from the other side. After a quick preparation we entered a large barracks. Several mostly intact bunk beds lined the walls. Huge piles of rubble were strewn about. Indy remained outside on lookout while Malar and I began to search the beds. To our surprise the room was not empty! A band of Kobolds was holding out behind a makeshift wall of rubble in the far corner. "Indy get in here!" I yelled as Torment began to unwind off Malar's arm. Sling stones flew through the air and a Kobold fired a ray of ice cold pain into my shoulder.
Indy charged into the room as a horrid lizard peered over the wall. Torment started flailing about the room and struck one of the Kobolds. I cast mage hand and used it to brush against the lizard. My ruse worked because the beast lunged over the wall and did the most disgusting thing I have ever seen. It grimaced and all the skin on its face pulled back to reveal bone and muscle. I mean how is that sanitary? Indy lept to the top of the Kobold's wall and struck at the lizard. More stones were sent flying. The Kobold spellcaster filled the room with dazzling rainbows of lights and Malar was dropped unconscious.
My fears became a reality. Untethered by Malar's control, the tentacle kept thrashing at the poor Kobolds on its own volition. I moved to outside its radius, pulled out my emerald and waited for the wizard to pop up again. It didn't take long and I forced my death-wish through the crystal. A ray of pure green destruction as thin as a hair but as brilliant as a viridian sun connected with the wizard. He opened his mouth to yelp but flashed into fading cinders like parchment tossed on a flame. Torment throttled one of the Kobolds to the ground. In a panic the last Kobold signaled to the lizard. As it broke away from Indy, the half-elf delivered a killing blow. The lone Kobold dropped his weapons and began yipping like a whipped puppy.
"Enough!" I called out but Torment seemed to gain exuberance at this display of surrender. The Kobold instinctively backed into the corner. I thought about pulling Malar's body out of range, but I wasn't convinced Torment would let me. To keep the little monster safe, I approached the Kobold with my rope. He held out his hands and I half-heartedly tied him up. Malar slowly came to and Torment wound itself around the scouts arm. "What?" was all he could say to defend himself.
For our troubles we found another elegant dagger which I kept. Malar kept a cloak that identified as magical and I got a pair of gauntlets that Indy suggested helped protect me from blows.
I thought Indy kept the cloak, but whatever...:-)
(He had to give up the bracers, after all)
I thought Indy kept the cloak, but whatever...:-)
(He had to give up the bracers, after all)
I can't believe you think that sweet little tentacle is evil. It was probaby just in a rage to protect its master. Such an honorable act surely cannot be evil:)