As Kullen squared up against Malakai, I had a face full of angry fighter to deal with. “I need to get over there” growled Todrik, “You need to stay away” I replied, “and we can all walk away from this”. Todrik was greatly angered by this response and said with menace “Move or I’ll kill you.” Taken aback by the sudden escalation in the confrontation, I replied, somewhat less convincingly, “Stay, or I’ll kill you!”. With that, Todrik attacked.
With his guisarme so close, he could not attack me with that, but he lunged with his hand and managed to pull me onto the floor. I grunted in pain but was free to move. Unfortunately, he followed this up with a savage kick, which caught me in the ribs and knocked the breath out of me. As I lay on the floor, I could hear Malakai and Kullen setting to, but I was unable to act further while this hulk stood over me.
He moved beyond the steps while I lay on the floor, and I saw my chance to get up and make good my threat. Unfortunately, at the same time I heard strange mystical words come from downstairs, and my mind became sluggish and drowsy, and my world turned dark.
My next sight was of Alun shaking and jostling me, and I heard him saying something rather too loudly about how I had some good stuff on me. I was indebted to the dwarvish priest for awakening me from my slumber, but I had little chance to thank him as a kaleidoscopic blast of colour was shot across us both. My world again turned black, shot through with sparks of colour. I thought as my consciousness disappeared.
I came to my senses. . I was still in darkness with flashes of colour, but at least I knew I wasn’t dead. I was swaying from side to side, carried over someone’s shoulder. But I felt too high up, the grip extremely rough, and more importantly the smell was not human. I decided to remain limp for the time being. At least until my sight returned.
From above, I heard Alun shout down the stairwell “Kullen, if you leave our friend alone, you can go. Do anything to him and you’re next!” At least they knew of my circumstances. If only I knew my situation! Just then, the flashes of colour changed into normal vision, and all was as I’d feared. Kullen had me over his shoulder, and was in the basement. He was heading towards the dog pit. I was still stunned from the magical attack, and could not wrestle to free myself – not that I had much hope of doing so anyway.
The half-orc hoisted me over the edge of the pit and flung me down. Although I tried to reach the walls to slow my fall, my disorientated state meant I could only narrowly avoid dashing my head on the floor, and ended up slamming my shoulder into the dirt instead. There were two dogs in there, and they snarled at me as I raised my head. I quickly lowered my hand to my sword and realised I must have been out for a while – I had no weapons, nor any potions.
I fought off the dogs’ attacks and heard my companions come down the stairs. Kullen shouted and attacked someone violently – who, I didn’t know. After that I saw the wizard, whom I later found out was called Merovinn, peer over the pit’s edge. He had an evil smirk on his face, and then cast yet another spell at me. It was not as powerful as his previous attempts, but it still dazed me for a few seconds.
Seeing that I was recovering, he pulled out a wand and gestured at me. A green bolt passed harmlessly over my head. After that he left me to the dogs, and a trainer armed with a whip. The whip never got close to me, but I was wary of those canine jaws. The dogs attacked me again, but I managed to avoid any harm. I ran between the dogs, who snarled and swiped at me in vain, and manfully heaved myself out of the pit.
I surveyed the scene. Merovinn was on the other side of the pit, looking at the others. Tiegan, Malakai and Alun were facing off against Kullen, and of the fighter with the pole-arm there was no sign. No sooner had I seen all this, the combat took a most unexpected turn.
Kullen withdrew from combat and said “Heal me, and I’ll surrender”. Malakai stepped up. “Drop your weapon and I’ll heal you” he said. Kullen seemed conflicted for a moment, and then said, “Done.” With that he keeled over onto the floor. Malakai demanded that Merovinn also surrendered. To this the sly mage eventually acquiesced, despite protesting against any violence committed against us. He surrendered to Alun, but I feel this was because I was blocking any escape he could have made. Alun bound his hands behind him, and as a final gesture of superiority I punched him in the face. “That’s for what you did to me, you son of a b$~!$.”
Upstairs, the local militia had arrived. Alun and Malakai moved up the stairs to talk to them and calm the situation. This left Merovinn to me and Tiegan. I demanded to know who had sent them to the Land farmstead and what they needed the bones for. Merovinn was initially hesitant and definitely deceitful but eventually told us what he knew – Balabar Smenk had told them to give a person by the name of Filge any help he needed in setting up shop in the old observatory outside Diamond Lake, The bones were required by Filge for purposes yet unknown. Merovinn gave me a not-so-subtle warning at what Smenk would do to someone who crossed his lackeys, but I wasn’t troubled by his hollow threats.
The militia collected the now defeated Feral Dog gang and took them to the holding cells. We returned to our lodgings and considered our next steps.
The following day, we set out to scout the Observatory – a fairly unedifying place to the north of the town. Before I could open any doors to investigate further, our resident paladin moaned that he needed approval from his church before proceeding. Once that was dealt with (I would have loved to hear that conversation: “Please sir, can I raid a squatter?”) we returned. Mal and Tiegan opened the wooden door under the steps that led to the observatory proper. I entered the carkness and found two things: a recently used shovel, and a tiny humanoid critter – that bit my arm! Much aggrieved, I hacked back at the thing (which I couldn’t see well enough to identify) and missed. Malakai from right behind me tried to pull me away, but succeeded in only ripping my cloak. I carried on attacking but did no damage. The thing scraped me and I felt the wound itch momentarily. At this point moving out seemed like a good idea – I let Mal pull me out. He and Tiegan then slew the thing, although it wounded Tiegan. Holy water was applied to the wound to stop the irritation that she felt. We examined the creature, butr could not recognize it – all I knew was it was a quick little bugger and did not look like it should be living.
Moving up the stairs to the entrance proper, we opened the door to have 3 crossbow bolts hurtle past our heads. Three skeletons stood behind an overturned table. Rubbish was strewn over the floor, making any advance slow at best. I attacked with my bow but missed. Tiegan then came in and turned them with a word of divine power, causing them to cower against the far wall. We moved up to them and proceeded to bash their bony bodies into pieces. My sword, and also my arrows presumably, were ineffective against their skeletal frames.
Continuing on, we found a macabre scene in what looked like the banqueting hall of the observatory. Corpses were sat around the main dining table, each one dressed in party attire and with putrescent food in front of them. Cautiously, aware that they could yet be undead awaiting a trigger to attack, we approached the table. Malakai, unaware of such concerns, sat himself at the one empty seat at the head of the table. It turned out that these bodies were awaiting a trigger, but what happened was far removed from the usual ‘hack and moan’ tactics we had grown used to seeing.
Just a quick note to say how much I'm enjoying your journal. You`ve not been getting a great deal of feedback from other players, so I just thought I`d speak up to let you that there are folks out here following it and lurking about. Keep it up.
Er, I meant players in general rather than players in this particular game. Maybe I should have said "readers" to prevent any confusion, since I`m not involved in snorters game. Bit misleading. Sorry.
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Just a quick note to say how much I'm enjoying your journal. You`ve not been getting a great deal of feedback from other players, so I just thought I`d speak up to let you that there are folks out here following it and lurking about. Keep it up.
Welcome aboard!
(Unless you're an AoW player looking for spoilers, of course!)Which I know you're not.
We're not really expecting feedback on this thread; the other players in this game aren't active on this site. It's more for our own amusement, to keep a memento of the campaign, something I wish I'd done more often in the past.
That said, if people are enjoying it, that's a bonus.
If we actually have fans, then I'm delighted!
I'll have to raise my game, and my death-toll, accordingly, if I'm not to bore the pants off folk like Allen and Turin, with their near triple-figure pile of skulls. :)
The reason for the hiatus, between November and this week, was due to us needing to clear up a little side-plot (the visit to the jail), which I didn't want to intrude on the main sessions, so we did it as a play-by-email in our own time, after I did a lot of digging into the history of the Seekers, via the archives here, Canonfire, Oerth Journal, or by old-fashioned collaring the Paizo staff.
I was surprised how seamlessly this stuff meshed with Matt's PC background. The first chapter and Diamond Lake backdrop really is a freeform toolkit, so different parties will be able to jump in using very different plot hooks.
Thanks Calavingian (Cal?) - it's nice to know that this has an audience! My reasons for this journal were to keep a record of events that the DM and other players could see for reference, and to help define my character, his thoughts, motives and modus operandi.
If it's well-written enough that people enjoy reading it then I am really pleased! To reassure you, this journal will be updated regularly as long as Snorter keeps me up to date on my character's increasingly convoluted character development and plot exposition.
Don't TPK us for the amusement of the readers, Snorts. I probably wouldn't contiunue the journal if the 'author' was dead. Kinda hard...
Anyway, there's lots more to come from me (if Fayne doesn't die) and the campaign (if Snorter can cope with us!).
Stay tuned!
The bodies were not undead per se, but they animated and began ‘talking’. That is, words were spoken as if from a ventriloquist but corresponded to the stiff actions of the corpses sat around the table. The comments were all flattering and directed seemingly towards Malakai, who had stood up at the movement of the dead bodies. Shrugging our shoulders, we collected all the silverware, and continued up the steps to the next level.
These were living quarters. The usual wizardly accoutrements were there, along with a severed human head with a coin on its tongue. Disturbingly, the head was on the bedside table… There was no-one we could see in this area. Investigating the stairs that led up to the observatory, I espied an owl at the top. With a cry, it retreated upstairs. I advanced up the stairs at a pace to catch up with it.
At the observatory level, we found the wizard Filge with his owl familiar. The room itself contained four human-sized glass tubes, with some dead creatures’ bodies standing upright inside them. At our entrance he commanded them to come forth, and the bodies came to eerie unlife and smashed through the glass tubes encasing them. We had a fight on our hands!
My compatriots came racing up the stairs and battle commenced. The melee was very fluid and I admit I ended up the worse for wear and retreated back down the steps.
Soon thereafter, Filge came down behind me, obviously retreating from the unfavourable encounter above. I took the opportunity to attack him, and we eventually subdued him. Once he had gained consciousness, and we had convinced him that we did not mean to kill him , he decided to talk. He gave us information about the request of Smenk, a mine manager in Diamond Lake, about researching some strange worms found in the area. We had evidence of these worms, with a pickled specimen in a jar. We decided to return to Allustan and obtain his guidance.
Deciding to bring the necromancer Filge with us, we returned to town after nightfall. He went along with this quite willingly, partly so he could verify his story with Allustan, but also so that we wouldn’t give him up to the clerics of Wee Jas, and so avoid a grisly fate. Allustan was surprised to see us with a prisoner, and even more so to be asked to keep him secure for the foreseeable future, but he questioned the errant dead-caster about his findings. Although evidence wasn’t conclusive, Allustan eventually believed Filge’s story, which was enough for me, at least.
After this, we headed out to the Land farmstead. In our absence the home had been visited by others and the graves filled in. We buried the bones of Alastor’s family without much ceremony and moved on to the cairn. After negotiating the rest of the tomb, we came to the final chamber that we could not get beyond, and where we originally encountered Alastor. We found him inside the body of a miner, waiting before the final door. We bid him our goodbyes and best wishes in the afterlife, after which he took the miner’s body back downstairs and came back as an incorporeal ghost. I must admit I shank back in fear at the sight, and in the memory of what he had done to me, albeit He moved through the doors blocking our advance and soon after the entrance was open.
We entered the chamber. The room was circular in shape, and had a balcony without rails running around its edge. In the centre was another balcony, again circular in shape, with a hole in the middle. Connecting outer and inner balcony were four bridges, two of which had long since collapsed. In the hole of the inner balcony was a rushing column of air, leading from floor to ceiling. Around the outside wall were four frescoes that had images of what looked like pivotal moments of an extra-planar conflict between the creators of this cairn, and some wolf-like-spider-spawn creatures. These caught the eye when examined as they became animated by steam that blew out of holes in the surface of the frescoes. The four vignettes were of the spider-wolves arrival, a gathering of these humanoids - with swords upraised to their leader, a meeting where a rod was broken into seven parts, and a battle where a proud noble of this culture battles and vanquishes some demonic wolf-spider entity, but where some other warrior falls before the final blow is struck. What these images all meant were a mystery to me. . We then ventured gingerly across the two surviving bridges into the middle of the room.
As we approached, we knew that something was going to happen. From out of the central column of wind, 2 armoured figures came out of the air, each raising their twin swords before them. Their armour was of some fanciful material, but looked strong enough. They had pennants attached to their helms and robes under their armour that moved as if blown by some fierce, unfelt wind. Alun was the first to come to them, whereupon the warrior facing him scraped his swords together in a violent sweep – a sonic blast battered the dwavish cleric and nearly knocked him off his feet. Tiegan was behind him, and Malakai and I were facing the other warrior. We all moved in, and battle was joined.
Malakai and I charged in. Mal connected with a blow that would’ve surely caused a fountain of blood to spurt from a normal creature, but in this case did not cause the damage it should do. I missed completely, unfortunately. Alun and Tiegan traded blows with the other creature, with similar results. Another blast of sonic energy lifted me and Malakai off our feet, while we chipped away at their defences. Then we found their other ability, as they began to back off away from the bridges and fly in the air. After a couple of bowshots it became apparent that this was not going to be really effective, and Malakai and I realised that the place we needed to go was where they came from – the column of air in the middle of the room. Venturing in, fearing we might be dashed against the floor, we found that our bodies were lifted by the strong winds and carried us up to a hole in the ceiling high above. As we went up, Tiegan and Alun followed, as did the guardian warriors.
Upon entering the hole, we found that there was a small room above, which held the secret to this entire place. A short series of steps led up to a dais where a sarcophagus identical to that down below was placed. However, we had little time to examine this as the guardian warriors came up to defend the final resting place of their master. A furious and short battle ensued, wherein the warriors could not fully use their power of flight, but were still much of a match for our party. Eventually we laid them low. Not a surprise when four martial characters concentrate on two opponents with no means or no desire to retreat. Once they were dispatched, our attention turned to the dais.
Moving up to the sarcophagus, Tiegan activated a spell bound to it as she approached: The bas-relief sculpture briefly animated and looked at her. “Speak my name,” it said in dwarvish.
We contemplated. We knew a fair amount about the people that built this place, and their glyphs had been identified by Allustan. The only name we could think of that was appropriate was ‘Zosiel’, whose glyph we had seen on our previous forays into the tomb. Upon uttering the name, the sarcophagus opened up to reveal three items – a thin circlet, a box and a pair of horns. Tentative examination of these items (without opening the box) gave us no clues as to their purpose, and we returned to town to speak with Allustan.
We went straight to Allustan’s to identify the items, and discuss what to do about the information from Filge about the cultists under the town.
Alun went to his church, to find the priest missing, and his fellow acolyte had been left holding the fort, and not well pleased about the situation.
I decided that I should act upon Filge’s reveal of a cult amidst our community, and headed out to Dourstone’s stockade, to count the guards, and discover their shift pattern. After waiting awhile I figured there were at least 12 guards, working in pairs, with watchtowers overlooking the courtyard.
In my absence, an urchin delivered a letter addressed to Mal, care of Allustan, asking him to come to the jail and tell his side of the story against Kullen, Torvik and Merovin. I obviously heard of it second-hand, but I would’ve thought it unusual to get such a missive from a non-official source. My suspicions were to be well-founded.
Once there, Mal was locked in the rear of the building and found that the four members of Kullen’s gang were free to leave, as long as they got past him. At that point Smenk appeared. The resulting meeting of minds wasn’t clear to me, but it seemed to involve our paladin siding with an obviously corrupt member of Diamond Lake society for no apparent gain for ourselves. In return for all our legitimate charges being dropped against his men, they would not counter-sue for the collateral damage to the bar caused their bull-headedness. Smenk assured our horse-headed paladin he had dozens of independent members of the public available as witnesses, who were prepared to speak on behalf of Smenk’s gang. Apparently, it all revolved around the inadmissible nature of our evidence, the severed arm of Skutch, a member of the gang. Smenk asserted that all it suggested is that their dear friend Skutch was sadly caught and killed by an owlbear, and dragged back to its lair, which was not a crime last time he checked. In retrospect, I felt he was even more of a fat fecker than I had originally thought.
I wish I was there. I could’ve at least made some money out of it. Stupid paladin. Brave, noble, honourable and a good friend, but stupid.
Apparently, they were willing to forgive and forget, and magnanimously settle out of court, in return for the four of us taking care of a small problem for them, namely, going down Dourstone Mine, and killing all the inhabitants for their supposedly blasphemous activities. Since the majority of our team were affiliated with the goodly-god-botherers, it was something that they, and so I, were going to do anyway, and payment was offered. Smenk said he had no wish to tarnish our good deeds with mercenary concerns. With the tiniest of nods towards adequately remunerating us for our efforts, he made a small donation of potions and scrolls, to aid the success of the mission, and, in his words “Prove what upstanding citizens we are.” All of which smelt like the manure issued from a dead donkey to me, but was lapped up by the reality-impaired gods-squad I fraternized with. If this was done, Smenk stated, then all parties will deem the matter settled, and there will be no reprisals, backdated accusations or provocation on either side. The four of us will be left alone by Kullen and friends, and the four of you will agree to do the same in return, and stay out of The Feral Dog. That last requirement I had no problem with.
Mal objected that Smenk would gain an advantage over the other mine owners, and did not want to be accused of being a killer for hire. Smenk agreed that once the cultists were dealt with, we could shut down the workings, or try to work them yourselves if wanted, and he would not make a claim or bid on the empty mine for at least six months. When I heard that I knew there was a loophole, but couldn’t place it at the time.
The next morning, we all went to Lazare’s to pick up the potions and scrolls from Smenk and his gang, which would apparently get us into Dourstone Mine undetected. It was then that we caught up with the discussion Mal had with Smenk at the jail, and unfortunately, I had not enough time to get the wildly inaccurate story Smenk had sold to Malakai into some kind of context. All I could do was to try for more reward for our own efforts on his behalf, but I was shouted down by my own team.
Stupid terms agreed to, and attempts to sweeten the deal ignored, we ventured out. A small part of my mind though ‘What if the witnesses to the agreement were friends on Dourstone’s? Or just friends of ‘due process’ even? Our tame paladin paid lip service to that, but there may be others who took things more seriously.” This was quickly followed by another simple realization “This is Diamond Lake. Who gives a toss?”
Using some of the potions that Smenk had provided us, we entered unseen into the mines. It took very little time for us to find the entrance to the cultists lair. Seemingly hidden, it was not defended at all. I think they relied upon no-one wishing to go beyond it for it’s security. We had no such compunctions. Beyond the tarp that disguised it, and the wooden beams that secured it, we found a passage leading to a platform suspended by ropes and chains, all of which lead down. Grasping hold of the chains and ropes we began our descent into the heart of the beast.
Thanks Calavingian (Cal?) - it's nice to know that this has an audience! My reasons for this journal were to keep a record of events that the DM and other players could see for reference, and to help define my character, his thoughts, motives and modus operandi.
If it's well-written enough that people enjoy reading it then I am really pleased! To reassure you, this journal will be updated regularly as long as Snorter keeps me up to date on my character's increasingly convoluted character development and plot exposition.
Don't TPK us for the amusement of the readers, Snorts. I probably wouldn't contiunue the journal if the 'author' was dead. Kinda hard...
Anyway, there's lots more to come from me (if Fayne doesn't die) and the campaign (if Snorter can cope with us!).
Stay tuned!
He need only keep you (barely) alive - mutilated, maimed, worms riddling your brain, missing an eye and maybe even a tongue and a hand - so long as your character can scribble in the journal, an "a-TPK" (almost-TPK) is perfectly acceptable. ^_^
He need only keep you (barely) alive - mutilated, maimed, worms riddling your brain, missing an eye and maybe even a tongue and a hand - so long as your character can scribble in the journal, an "a-TPK" (almost-TPK) is perfectly acceptable. ^_^
Well, I was talking about the whole party karking it (which would include Fayne, obviously). But an a-TPK could kill everyone else and yet leave me totally uninjured. I'd be happy with that.
But, if what you're saying is that I personally could be a-TPCK-ed (i.e.: almost-Total Player Character Kill) where I end up a shadow of my former self, then although I could write a journal, it would get a bit repetitive
"Tday watched the maggots crwl ind and out of the stump whr my leg woz. They lookd quite happy and I conversed awhile. In between ur philosophical discussions tryd to clamb the pit whur id fall en, withot mutch sucses."
...
"Tday felt the maggots crwl in an out of the hule in mi hed. They soundd kwite happi nd I talked awile. In between ur philosophical discussions tryd to clamb the pit whur id fall en, whitot mutch sucses."
Continue ad infinitum, or until death, whereupon Snorter gets him...
mind you - I think Snorter has got something horrible planned for when he gets his shadow-born birthright, so you may yet get your "musings from a depraved mind" wish, although with less bad spelling, hopefully.
Will update this a bit more tonight hopefully. Unless the missus has plans for our televisual delight (why oh why do we have to watch stuff together? I'm normally not that bothered!)
And before someone says use a laptop; she nicks that to use while we're watching!
Honestly!
We descended the elevator deeper into the bowels of the mine. It required all of us to lower it safely – I had the impression it would drop alarmingly if we let go. I wondered what might face us in this den, and how we would work as a team. I had no wish to be the spokesperson of the group, and with everyone else deferring to me on decisions, we had no tactical leader in a combat situation. This would not bode well in a prolonged foray into hostile lands.
Nearing the bottom of the elevator, we espied two of what looked like humanoid guards of the cult. Upon noticing them, I took out my bow to shoot, and let go of my platform chain. As I shot vainly at one of them, mainly due to the rocking of the now unstable platform, Alun decided to cast a spell. When he let go of his chain, the whole thing dropped, as Tiegan and Malakai could not hold it by themselves. We crashed into the bottom of the shaft, with me sustaining minor injuries, but other members of our team faring worse, unfortunately. Staggering out into the large chamber at the bottom, I took stock of my surroundings. We had ‘landed’ in a square room filled with columns, easily sixty feet across. In the centre of three of the walls were short corridors, leading up to some heavy-duty looking doors. On the fourth side, behind us, was an equally large adjoining circular chamber, with a square-shaped pool of black fluid at its centre. Around the edge of the chamber were steps that led up to three staggered platforms which overlooked the pool. I also noticed the two guards, coming at us.
The fight was protracted and bloody, with Malakai being sent unconscious by their attacks. However, with the aid of the others I killed them both. Just when we thought we could recover, the door that the cultists were guarding opened, and a stream of skeletons came out. Each of them had bells attached to their bodies so they made a clamour as they attacked. Knowing that my weapons were largely useless against these creatures I stepped back, and let Alun hold them. He did this with ease, blocking their advance into the room. Tiegan cured Malakai, but got him barely conscious. I checked one of the other two doors to see if it could be opened in case a retreat was needed . It was locked. Tiegan attempted to blast the skeletons with her turning, but they withstood her castigations. Meanwhile, Alun held the line whilst Malakai healed the now upright Malakai. I continued my frantic search by checking the final door – it too was locked, with a symbol in the wall above it. Tiegan then attempted another turn, and this time caused all the undead creatures to flee. Buoyed by her success, Tiegan followed the retreating skeletons through the door.
Not knowing that Tiegan was being so gung-ho, Malakai and I had turned to check the pool. Bubbles were rising from its surface, and it certainly seemed ominous, but Mal could detect no evil enchantment or suchlike upon it. Alun then attended to his own wounds incurred in the two fights so far. There was soon to be a third.
From down the corridor where the skeletons had fled came shouts and yells of attack, as the residents of this place responded to the skeletons jangling retreat. Tiegan was caught by their response, but beat a hasty exit to our position, where we had gathered to push these dull-eyed peasants back down the hole they came from. It was not to be that easy. We blocked them at the entrance of the narrow corridor out into the main chamber, so we could take them on one by one. One of them, obviously a warrior, comes out first and promptly gets smote by our paladin. The warrior dropped clumsily to the floor. Following him were the other cultists. These were not as skilled, but their numbers made up for their lack of experience. As they poured out we cut down three more of them, but they overwhelmed our defence and I became surrounded. A mad battle then ensued.
My first thought was to get out of this flanked position, and I tumbled, feinted and jumped my way through the cultists. One of them got a lucky lick in on my ribs, but I emerged at their backs. As they turned to face me I struck one, and managed to avoid their clumsy strike. Meanwhile Malakai was also having issues with the mass of foes he was caught amid, and moved around the back of the elevator, which we were fighting in front of, to be at my side. Alun and Tiegan continued their attacks, somewhat successfully I recall. I carried on moving around the cultists and dropped another to the floor, slashing him across the chest. Malakai, his zealousness showing through with every strike, dropped another two while I injured a fourth. He finished that sorry creature off. Meanwhile Alun and Tiegan had killed the cultists facing them. We decided to press on with our advantage and headed on into the complex.
We entered the room where Tiegan was first attacked, and found it empty and devoid of unique features. A corridor led off in front of us, and on each side was a room – one with a pile of rubbish within, and the other a neatly made up bunk room for two warriors. A quick scan was all we gave them, well, except for Malakai anyway. He searched the rubbish-strewn room, and spied a crude stature of a humanoid with six arms. He recognized it as an icon of Hextor, and smashed it to pieces. The rest of us continue down the corridor. It was not too long, and ended in a set of double doors, slightly ajar. Another set of double doors were to our left, and a single door was to our right. I listened at the narrow opening, and heard voices talking in common “Did you bolt the door?” a short pause, then a reply, “No.” I seized the initiative.
I moved quickly into the room and cast an eye round for opponents. I saw none. I did see a large statue though, which I shall describe in detail shortly. The rest of our party behind me hear a noise as a bar is dropped into place on the single door. I returned to the other group, where Malakai had caught up and was now attacking the door with an axe. I said to the others “This will get us nowhere – we need to be in the chamber ahead!” This was a mistake, I realised later, but for the time being I was convinced we needed to keep moving on. I returned to the bigger room, all the while trying to spot where the voices I heard earlier had come from. The room itself was very large, with a balcony all around it and a 20’ statue in its centre. The statue was on a plinth, and towered over anyone who entered the chamber. It was an ornate stone statue of Hextor, his six arms raised in anger, a weapon in each one. Atop his brow was a large red gem. I moved past it to the other side of the room, where the balcony went further back than elsewhere. I hear a voice from above say “They’re here!” and spot a cultist at the edge of the balcony. I promptly put an arrow into his shoulder.