That or there will be a hoard of angry plucked geese lurking.
You forgot about the room with the giant stinky beetle! The beetle that Valeros and I surrounded and started stabbing but it was too stupid to die after being stabbed so many times and then it squirted stinky beetle water all over us and it stung and gave me blisters and made my eyes hurt and smelled like wine gone to vinegar mixed with sewer water and it was running down inside my armor and making me itch and thankfully someone I don't know who killed the beetle so I was able to run back to the other room where the crazy man was holed up because there was a big barrel of water what I could use to wash the beetle squirt off.
Which I did.
Director of Games
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I have updated my GM's journal of this campaign, which can be found here!
Jason Bulmahn
Lead Designer
Monkey Tamer of this Monkey House... Banana's Needed
You forgot about the room with the giant stinky beetle! The beetle that Valeros and I surrounded and started stabbing but it was too stupid to die after being stabbed so many times and then it squirted stinky beetle water all over us and it stung and gave me blisters and made my eyes hurt and smelled like wine gone to vinegar mixed with sewer water and it was running down inside my armor and making me itch and thankfully someone I don't know who killed the beetle so I was able to run back to the other room where the crazy man was holed up because there was a big barrel of water what I could use to wash the beetle squirt off.
Which I did.
That is probably because I never got a swing in on the beetle, because you and Valeros were hogging all the glory and running around like two elk in heat with each other. I swear, I am gonna abandon the back of the marching order and get up front so I can put the hurt to a few things. Screw Ezren, he and his floating club can take care of themselves!
Amira
ROFL!!! Amiri's not the straight man - she's the whole F'n show! You others better post more or she's going to totally take the spotlight.
Stinky beetle...something from ToH? [Off to follow Jason's linky]
Amiri has taken the spotlight!
Fine with me! The spotlight is the WORST place to hide (and to go through Amiri's pockets while she's grandstanding...)
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5 – Neth (evening)
I sit in a small room in the crypt of the Everflame as I write this day’s accounting for later reflection…it has been a day that fully tested my resolve and the teachings I have learned. Sarenrae has been…thorough in this test.
Shortly after my embarrassing fall, we approached the opening of what we believed to be the crypt’s entrance. Amiri noted that dead or sleeping animals were near the entrance, and Merisiel, compelled as always by her impulsive nature, flitted off up the hill to steal the first look. It is that way with her, to be awwal, first. Valeros took this opportunity to overcome his intoxication, finally, and seemed utterly bewildered that he was not in the town. He quickly applied a thick layer of bravado to hide this, though, and marched up the hill to investigate.
We found 2 horses and a number of younger ones savaged at the entrance. The others pointed out the brandings and quality of the horses (Ezren was quite emphatic about the estimated value on the horses, despite the fact that they were dead and, essentially, worthless) that suggested their origins were from Kassen. I spied a backpack in the bushes that revealed limited supplies and -pillows? Merisiel again seemed quite upset that I had found something she had not. After much discussion about the dead animals, we all noticed that Merisiel, unable to open the doors, had begun to dismantle them, and in her haste had jammed one. Valeros attempted to use his strength, and I attempted to bestow the guidance of Sarenrae upon him to assist him, but instead he used his bravado and promptly vomited in the bushes. Amiri seemed quite amused by his weakness, and easily opened the doors.
We entered the crypt (Merisiel first, of course) to find bones upon bones littering the floor, with the bloody remains of two persons at the far end of the first room. I moved to the center of the room to search for signs of nearby magic, hoping that this, too, was an illusion meant to shock or scare us. Unfortunately, as Ezren disturbed the bones, they assembled with the power of evil and set upon us. The others leapt into battle, and Valeros was overcome. I prayed for the Everlight and the Healing Flame to pour through me, cleansing the dead from this place. Sarenrae granted me this, and 4 skeletons collapsed. I took this respite to kneel down and rebuke death from claiming Valeros. Holding the final skeletons back with my shield, Ezren began to bark orders about some “Apprentice Hand”. The effect was a flying club that pounded the remaining two skeletons to shards. Ezren appears to enjoy ordering something around.
Quickly regrouping, Valeros took the opportunity to drink the healing potion given to us by the townsfolk, ignoring my offers to heal him with the Healing Flame. I suspect he did this out of habit, downing the first bottled liquid in sight. As I laid the slain to rest in the ways taught to me, Merisiel became genuinely disturbed, as her keen elven ears picked up the wailing and crying of a person. And she was off. We all quickly followed, coming into a large maze-like room. It was quickly apparent that this room was full of trap pits…lined with pillows. Ah, the cleverness of the townfolk would be thoroughly appreciated, if not for the gruesome turn of events. I again bestowed the guidance of the Dawnflower upon each of them as we moved towards the wailing.
Merisiel was the first to come upon a lever, and was first to pull it. Amiri and Valeros seemed shocked by this. I fully expected it. As it came to pass, this lever was one of three located along the three far walls, each opening a bolt on a door from where the wailing sound was coming. With some cooperation I thought not possible by this group, we managed to open the door. Again, if not for the real sense of death here, I would admire the cleverness of the townfolk.
We quickly found the source of the wailing, in this very room I sit now. A poor man named Roldair, the town’s cobbler, was barricaded inside, mad with panic and terror. He shot Valeros and Merisiel with his fine crossbow as they attempted to enter the room, and they were soon able to subdue him. Calling upon the Healing Flame, I healed all within the room and tended to a now-bound Roldair. While I was perfectly content with remaining in the room to rest and regroup, my gift of healing seemed to inspire the rest to go in search of more dangers…particularly Merisiel. Again. The group followed a passageway into another room to discover yet another body, but with a large beetle on it. Valeros and Merisiel rushed forward (for they seem unable to move any other way, it seems) and found the business end of the beetle which sprayed them with a burning acid, before it was dispatched.
At this, the group begged healing from me once more, and I was finally able to curtail their restless wanderings due to a wakening Roldair. I managed to calm his fears, and assure him that we were not there to harm him, so he should not be compelled to harm us. Gaining his trust, he told us of the “Walking Bones” and the one with the “Voice” that took his sister, Demura. He was one of the townsfolk that came to set “tricks and traps for kids” for our quest. As such, he was able to tell us of some of the traps and gave clues to their solutions. Even so, he is close to madness and will not leave without his sister.
It is apparent that something is definitely wrong, and evil. Sarenrae tests me further, it seems. I await the morning light, to receive my daily resolve from the Dawnflower, and to see what further test she will send.
Quote of the night:
As the party approaches the entrance and sees dead horses and pack animals......
Erik/Valeros: "Good news, folks! There's PC appropriate treasure in the dungeon!"
A so "Pathgrinder" cartoon moment :rofl:
Great Journal writing from Kyra!
Politically Correct [and] Appropriate Treasure ...
PCAT ...
Sounds like a spoof waiting to happen ...
Along with a pillow golem ...
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Chief Creative Officer, Publisher
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Journey from Absalom to Varisia: Day 97.
I do not remember yesterday. Through a haze of suds and the stink of crusted vomit I recall villagers in robes, orcs, and the howl of wolves. Clarity returns in the wilderness, at the foot of a hill marked by huge wooden doors, in the company of four strangers. Three armed women and a bald old man in ragged robes and a dirty beard.
I like those odds.
Naturally, I demand an explanation, and the strangers mutter something about a contest the villagers run to send “untested” citizens on an errand to return the eternal flame of the hero Kassen from his tomb to the village square. The village of Kassen, that is. Return Kassen’s flame to Kassen so the people of Kassen can honor their founder Kassen. Everyone knows about Kassen out here. He’s their greatest hero, subject of statue and song. None of that protected him from brigands decades back, which is where the tomb comes in.
The tomb I now stood next to, with the three rough beauties and the wild-eyed old man.
I’d heard the villagers talk about this test—this “Quest for the Everflame”—again and again over the last few weeks. As the great day came closer, the citizens of Kassen grew more and more excited, more likely to buy a second ale for a friendly stranger in the local tavern.
But the way they said it, the Quest was a ceremony for children, a coming of age trial for the unproven members of the community.
Unproven like me. I arrived in Kassen seven weeks ago, stopping for much-needed rest on my overland quest to the treasure-rich, ruin-laden realm of Varisia, far to the northwest. I was penniless and wounded, still in shock and mourning from the tragedy at Isger. I had nothing but my swords and a will to fight, so the village elders pressed me into service as a guard under the ponderous Captain Winzlow, a petty bureaucrat with a stunted ambition to match his lack of capability. Tired of uneventful duties, crushed by the loss of my former companions, I fell deeper than usual into the tankard, shirking my (pointless) duty to the town, spending more time in blackness than in light.
A disappointment to myself, for certain. To them a disgrace. No wonder they set me on this child’s task.
If I’m their criteria, I shudder to think what the four strangers have going against them.
The old man’s problem is obvious. He claims to have once been a great cartographer in a distant city, but he’s been an apprentice to Kassen’s resident hedge wizard for the last several years. Any man who indentures himself in the demeaning role of apprentice at his age richly deserves the communal scorn that would set him on a task such as this. He goes by Ezren. After a few moments of conversation, his boisterous shouting and abrasive approach make me doubly certain why he is here.
The foreign priestess, Kyra, hails from distant Katapesh. She preaches the doctrine of Sarenrae, the Dawnflower, scourge of evil and sword of faith. I’ve much experience with the cult of the Dawnflower, and know that her sword of faith has cut indiscriminately through history. Like her fiery goddess, I’m sure the woman means well, but I cannot trust that she will put the needs of our rag-tag group over her own foreign agenda. She must be carefully watched, that one. If for no other reason than to find out what’s hiding behind those heavy robes.
The giantess, Amiri, claims to come from a tribe of the northern Mammoth Wastes. Such a distant, primitive land is near legend in Absalom, but it represents the distant north, a place so far away that the imagination must fill in the gaps where knowledge and experience fail you. I never thought I’d see a waste-wanderer in the flesh. Knowing her makes the edge of the world seem that much closer. What once seemed incredible is now confirmed, and I wonder now at what lies further still.
The fourth stranger is an elf who calls herself Merisiel. As I’m properly introducing myself she notices something off in the distance and runs away mid-sentence. I must say, I appreciate the lithe girl’s tight leather armor, particularly as I watch her jog into the distance before me.
The elf turns up two dead horses and four slain ponies, still tied to a tree not far from the tomb’s hillside entrance. Merisiel turns up brands marking the beasts property of the village of Kassen. All six animals show signs of violence and bladework, cut straight and sometimes right through bone. Clearly not the work of an animal. And because they’re dead but not yet rotted, whoever rode them here must still be in the tomb.
Under one of the dead horses, someone turns up a dried human finger bone, but by that time Merisiel has already taken off to the tomb doors and is unscrewing the outer hinge. The bone is forgotten as soon as it is discovered, and looking back that was a big mistake.
Also a big mistake: When the elf has no luck with the door, I try to push it open, putting my back into the effort. Then something squirms in my stomach, and I’m bent over puking out yesterday’s rations. I begin to realize that perhaps I am not quite as sober as I thought.
Without much ado, all five of us venture into the tomb, only to find a wide antechamber with raised platforms to the east and west. There’s a door at the top of each stair, but what immediately catches my eye is the vast red smear along the far wall and the floor immediately before it. As we approach a blood-soaked, ruined campyard comes into view, canvas blankets soaked with gore, clotted blood clogging cracks between the ancient flagstones.
The riders of the unfortunate horses outside? Other villages sent here to enliven our “expedition”? Just as we begin to investigate, the old man kicks over a pile of dry bones and the whole room comes alive—or rather undead—in a flash. Bone piles all over the room, some directly in front of us, spring into action, and battle cries echo off the stark walls.
Everything happens so fast. At first it looks like we’re winning. I get in a few good blows with my swords, and Ezren casts a ghostly hand that smashes at the undead guardians with a sturdy club. The blunt, relentless blows seem to be much more effective than my own slices, and just as I begin to worry about being outshined by that foul-tempered wizard I’m surrounded. I bash and I bash, but their scimitars flash in and out of my vision, wielded with a cold precision available only to nerveless automatons. When the first blade cuts into my chest I decide I can survive one more like it, only to take three more slashes in as many seconds.
A grim certainty—that we will soon be so much dead, abandoned horseflesh—begins to take seed just as Kyra leaps upon a landing stair and utters a cry of faith to Sarenrae. Ghostly white flames envelop our enemies, and many crumble into dust. But not enough. Something slices deep into my back, and everything goes dark.
Moments later I awaken in Kyra’s arms, the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck still bristling from the healing charge released by her soft, feminine hands. For the briefest of moments I close my eyes and inhale through my nose, taking in the smell of her. Saffron, a touch of sweat. The lingering spices of her distant homeland. Ah, to travel there, to sample its exotic flavors and passions…
My head gently falls to the stone floor as the cleric stands, snapping me back to reality. My back against the wall, I dig in my pack for a vial of red liquid marked “healing,” provided by the elders of Kassen when we set out on the quest. With a mighty gulp I quaff the thin liquid, smiling as a healing warmth spreads from my throat to my chest, extending from there to the tips of my fingers and toes. Just like tossing back an ale, I think. Just then I notice Kyra looking askance at me, as if I’m wasting the healing draught. Like she’d rather have healed me again herself. Not that I don’t look forward to her touch, but I can’t let her think I need her. Not yet, anyway. Potions, like anything else, are there to be drunk, after all.
The elf hears someone wailing behind the west door, so we venture to the other side, discovering a darkened chamber segmented by dozens of huge pillars. The effect creates a kind of chessboard in which pillars make up a single color, leaving the other as a series of open passages. We soon discover numerous trapdoors that open to pits lined with pillows. While I’m glad the pillows break my fall, I’m embarrassed to be caught by the traps not once, but twice. Soon enough we devise a method of springing the traps, climbing into and out of them, and exploring the room without danger. This leads to a series of levers used to open a locked door, a lesson in cooperation learned surprisingly well by a group in which Amiri and Ezren are always shouting and Merisiel is always three steps ahead of the rest of the group, getting into trouble down a hallway or in another room. I’m impressed.
On the other side of the door is a series of slim hallways. We follow one to discover a huge beetle making a grim nest out of dead bodies and debris. Merisiel and I nearly bring it to heel, but not before it mouth explodes in a wave of acid that cuts right through my armor to savagely burn the skin. Once again Kyra is there to sooth the pain and get us back on our feet, and following the wailing voice soon leads us to a closed door. Whoever’s on the other side has barricaded it well, and as I try to shoulder my way through the fool launches three crossbow bolts into the door a few inches from my face.
We ignore his ineffective attacks and subdue him, eventually (through the difficult work of interpreting his mad ravings and a great deal of patience) discovering that he is Roldair, a representative from town responsible for putting pillows in the pit traps and making the whole crypt safer for our quest.
They have failed to do so.
Roldair is obsessed with “walking bones,” and claims that “the one with the voice” is responsible for killing all of the villagers in the tomb. I get the sense that whatever this thing is—Roldair refuses to say more on its nature—is tied into the brigands who killed Kassen so long ago.
There I go tying everything into Kassen, just like everyone else back at the village. I am becoming one of them, and I need to get out of this town. I know Varisia will be key to my fame and fortune, but I’ll never get there until I find some way out of here.
And as much as I might hate it, right now that means delving deeper into this dungeon with these strangers. We’ve got to get Roldair out of here alive, if only so the five of us rejects don’t get blamed for all the dead townsfolk in here.
But first we need to sleep. If the fool Roldair could survive in here for days, so can we. Hell, he as much as said that the room (and the sleeping rolls we found here) were “provided for us,” so we may as well take advantage of the hospitality. I’ve volunteered to take the second watch at the barricade, which means I’ve got almost four hours of sleep ahead of me.
I’m sure it will not take long before I am dreaming, but after a day of living skeletons, acid spewing insects, and butchered horses, I do not expect to dream well.
I really wish I had something to drink.
—Valeros
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You forgot about the room with the giant stinky beetle! The beetle that Valeros and I surrounded and started stabbing but it was too stupid to die after being stabbed so many times and then it squirted stinky beetle water all over us and it stung and gave me blisters and made my eyes hurt and smelled like wine gone to vinegar mixed with sewer water and it was running down inside my armor and making me itch and thankfully someone I don't know who killed the beetle so I was able to run back to the other room where the crazy man was holed up because there was a big barrel of water what I could use to wash the beetle squirt off.
Which I did.
Best. Post. Ever.
Nice posts for Kyra and Valeros (except Erik hasn't made a Valeros alias yet - tsk tsk). I like Kyra's stoicism and sarcastic humor. I like Valeros' attention to detail and his appreciation for the ladies.
Great characters guys!
Yay, great write-ups! Looking forward to seeing Ezren's grumpy update.
Perhaps we can expect a swarm of pillow creatures? Or are they merely traps and possibly weapons?
Would pillow be an exotic weapon proficiency? hmmmm
anyways judging by the cover art and recent events perhaps we can expect a group of pillow-wielding evil elf types.
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CEO
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Perhaps we can expect a swarm of pillow creatures? Or are they merely traps and possibly weapons?
Would pillow be an exotic weapon proficiency? hmmmmanyways judging by the cover art and recent events perhaps we can expect a group of pillow-wielding evil elf types.
The cover art is only placeholder art. We don't expect the final art to arrive until May.
-Lisa
Fine with me! The spotlight is the WORST place to hide (and to go through Amiri's pockets while she's grandstanding...)
Just remember who spots things in the party. I bet that I could spot your grubby little hand going into my pouch. Then you better hope that you can outrun me!
-Amiri
I really wish I had something to drink.
I bet you wish you had taken me up on the trade for my flask of brandy. If you had been a bit nicer, I might have given you a swig, but coming forth with your bloody tankard was downright rude. So no brandy for Valeros tonight!
-Lisa
Perhaps we can expect a swarm of pillow creatures? Or are they merely traps and possibly weapons?
Would pillow be an exotic weapon proficiency? hmmmmanyways judging by the cover art and recent events perhaps we can expect a group of pillow-wielding evil elf types.
The cover art is only placeholder art. We don't expect the final art to arrive until May.
-Lisa
Darn! You mean no pillow wielding drow? *looks depressed*
Wait a tick! I think I smell a prestige class! Hmmmmm
From the Journal of Ezren Zefiir:
Last I wrote, I was sitting with my new companions by a paltry fire and was interrupted by mangy dogs that the heroic warriors of our party dispatched in quick haste. The following day we progressed further on our journey and came to a smelly lake followed later by a canyon of a seemingly sinister nature. On the other side of the canyon we could see an entrance to what must clearly be our ruse-filled destination. In a hurry to get there, most of my companions fled quickly down the ravine, falling mightily in the process and covering their gear in mud. Leaving my much younger companions bedazzled by my spryness I pranced quickly down the path and came to the bottom none the worse for wear. I know my companions see my verbosity as a drawback to having me around, but I showed them that age comes with many things and one of those, apparently, is the ability to walk down a hill without falling on my ass.
The petulant serial killer elf scrambled up the other side ahead of us--apparently because something shiny took her attention away from the strategy meeting we were having. About this time, the bag of swords named Valeros awoke from his drunken stupor and began ordering us about like slaves or common scullery maids. He's a good chap, though, and certainly has the strength to brandish his sword--his accuracy will, I'm sure, develop in time.
We found a foul scene of rotting horse atop the far side hill and found the doors to the farcical holy flame cave, or whatever the villagers call it, open and beckoning for us to enter. So we did. As my companions pushed ahead recklessly, I poked a foot at a pile of bones only to see that pile of bones rise up and begin menacing me with a rusty implement I can only assume was once a sword. Others rose as well and rather than boring myself later when reading this I'll simply relate that I did quite well with this Hand of the Apprentice incantation I taught myself and caused a fair bit more mayhem and carnage than even our diminutive psychopathic elf friend.
We breezed through a trapped room after that and found a babbling young man who had gone quite mad, though I'm not sure what from. I guess in my youth seemingly harmless things like walking skeletons and pillow pits may have driven me mad, but in my elder years now I can see the wisdom of acknowledging the challenge and fighting through it. This poor fellow, however, seemed incapable of both and babbled endlessly about the bones etc. Someone, I recall not who, gave him a stunning blow to the head and ended the ranting, thought the poor fellow awoke again later, but in a communicative fashion that allowed us to actually talk to him.
We're resting with him tonight and I fear I won't get a lick of sleep. Ahh, it seems we're not. The elf has found a giant beetle in the next room and wants to kill it. I'm sure this will end well. I'll write more later.
Postscript: The beetle was defeated but not before the lady warrior and the elf were covered in the smelliest, most vile concoction of mucus I have ever seen. I shall get no sleep tonight I fear.
Lastly, I see that someone has scribbled notes in the margin of my first journal entry. By reading carefully, I surmise it's our lady warrior companion from the north. Though I'm assuming she meant to write in common, it's such a poor attempt at it that it's almost as if her and all of her kind only just recently learned to read and write the common tongue. Like, a scant eight months ago they were quite incapable of reading and writing, the lack thereof causing quite a lot of angst and uncontrollable anger, but then just moments ago they learned to read and write but not in a fashion understood by those of us who have been reading and writing for the better part of four decades. Curious. I'm also unsure who her notes were intended for---are they curious scribbles, or doodles perhaps? Is she talking to herself? For now, I'll not conceal my journal and see where she goes with this. Who knows? Maybe her skills at writing will improve so that I can understand what it is she writes!
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Chief Creative Officer, Publisher
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Hilarious.
Ezren's bit with the wand command word tonight was the highlight of the session.
This is shaping up to be a _very_ fun campaign, and Bulmahn's module is, as usual, a superlative challenge.
Let me just say this: It really, really sucks to come of age in the village of Kassen.
Like bad.
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<THREADJACK> Just throwing in my lil' self-promotion: Ezren's art is up on my Facebook page. View it here (I hope). Gawk in glory at Benchak's coloring and editing skillz and my pathetic line art made better by his slightest touch!
And... </THREADJACK>
Delicious posts, by the way. I can't wait to have my teeth stomped out in this module. With pillows. :D
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Okay, my Internet connection is really awful today, so I can't upload the preview image on DeviantART. But I think I can circumnavigate Facebook for you guys. Check it here, and lemme know if it works (it worked when I signed off from Facebook, so I think it's okay).
It works. Except there is a big red "SAMPLE" across it. ; )
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6 – Neth
This is the accounting of our second day in the crypt of Kassen, and possibly the most harrowing experience on my siyahat since the faith barges of Xer stopped the ship I was upon and I was forced to hide in a smuggler’s compartment by the good Captain Hervaths. Sarenrae certainly tested my resolve this day!
We began the day in the small resting room with Roldair. He continued to tell us what he could about the traps and puzzles laid out for us. Much of it was cryptic… “Magic is the Key!!” and “You must have the shields!” Yet, his words benefited us greatly. And he graciously gifted me with his finely-made crossbow as we left. The others mock him, but even in his shock and misery, he knows which side the Light is upon. The others…I am not so sure. Valeros is so full of himself he forgets the danger. Merisiel is overrun with curiosity and impulsiveness. Ezren is a bitter pill, full of hatred to any who may diminish him. And Amiri seems to be carrying a weight heavier than her oversized sword, so much that she could fall full in or else on her backside. I can only imagine what they think of me!
Our first venture today was to return to the front, and enter a side room with a very deep pool. At the bottom were hundreds of keys. But which one? Ah, MAGIC is the key! Calling upon the rays of the Dawnflower, all magic was revealed to mine eyes, and there it was! Yet, the water in this pool was deeper than the deepest cistern I have ever seen. All looked to me to dive in, yet that is something so strange and unknown to me that I quickly refused. At this, Valeros removed his armor and clothing to dive in. Out of respect, I averted my gaze…partially. He may be a drunken blowhard, but he is a well-built and handsome drunken blowhard. After some discussion, which involved him standing WAY too close, I was able to direct him to the key’s location, and he dove down and scooped up the keys in the area. I quickly selected our key from the batch, and we proceeded. To a hallway with warrior statues wielding pillow-padded swords.
Merisiel took the opportunity to show off some, diligently searching the hallway for traps. Upon finding one, she quickly disabled it, and then spent more than several minutes trying to figure out how to remove it and take it with her! She quickly became bored with that idea and raced off to the next room, which contained a giant wooden statue of Kassen himself, holding two enormous shields, which were labeled “Home” and “Family”. As I moved up to call upon Sarenrae’s grace to grant me the magic sight again, Merisiel spied a door off to the statue’s left and rushed off to open it, when the giant lurched toward her and slammed a shield into her.
By the rays of the sun, what is wrong with that elf?!?
The others rushed up to hack at the wooden statue, but were largely unsuccessful. I again moved up to grant the blessing of the Dawnflower upon the group, but was quickly bashed down by the giant’s large shields…”Home” I believe…and lost Her blessing. I quickly stepped out of reach to regroup, when that fool of a mage decided to call a fog into the room making it impossible to see ANYTHING. Shouts and cries from my allies told me all was about to be lost. I was suddenly joined by Merisiel, who pathetically looked at me for healing. Which I ignored. Calling upon the Everlight’s favor, I trilled a priestess’s battlecry and rushed the wooden statue. Bringing all Her glory to the battle, I chopped the wood from the giant, causing it to falter long enough for one of my companions to finish it…just as the fog lifted.
That old man still needs to learn a thing or two from his master.
In an adjoining room, we found a table with items for each of us. I received a wand and a divine scroll, which I will need to pray upon for enlightenment in the morning to discover their purpose. The statue’s shields were taken, as was advised by Roldair. From there we proceeded back to the resting room to regroup, as the battle was won, but we were weary.
Or so I thought. Merisiel apparently cannot resist a closed door. Valeros apparently cannot let the elf go off to her death due to her curiosity. So the two tromped off to a room thick with burning smoke from a pit filled with gear and…remains. As I looked on, a shadow reached out and grabbed Valeros, visibly weakening him before my eyes. Merisiel and Valeros stabbed and slashed at the shadow to no avail, so I felt deep within that the Everlight’s Presence was needed more than ever. Pushing an unusually fearful Amiri out of the way, I stood firm as wave after wave pulsed from me, doing some, but not enough damage to the shadow creature. Valeros continued to weaken, and Merisiel, somehow in the middle of the fight, managed to find a strange dagger in the fire pit that was unharmed by the flames. Using this, she managed to do some ill toward the shadow, and Valeros and I assisted her in defeating it. But…not without cost. Both Valeros and Merisiel are quite weak from the shadow’s touch, and we now rest in the room again with Roldair. I must now pray for further guidance from my goddess to help in meeting the trials that face us on the ‘morrow.
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As we stare down the hallway bristling with statues wielding weapons, I caution Merisiel to check for traps or perhaps hidden levers that might help us get past the obvious traps that line the hallway. But with nary a thought for her own safety, our elf traipses down the hallway, only stopping long enough to rip up a pressure plate and spew its contents down the hall. As much as I appreciate the elf's bravery, or perhaps deathwish is a more appropriate term, I wish she would just slow down sometimes. If I have to pull her body from some self-imposed peril...Gorum help me, there will be a reckoning!
I follow Merisiel down the hall and into a room with a large statue of Kassen wielding two shields with the words "Home" and "Family" on them. Before I could even assess the room, Merisiel runs down to the door by the statue, tripping a slide trap on the way and riding it down to the bottom where the door lay. Valeros and I move to her side just as the statue springs to life with its menacing shields. One solid hit from the shield sends Merisiel fleeing to the back of the room for Kyra's sustenance. Valeros and I move to flank the infernal machine, but never manage to get our act together. After a few hits on it and a few in return from the statue, I am at a pivotal point where the next hit might send me to my ancestors! The statue emits a mist that covers my vision, but also allows me the moment to escape back to Kyra for healing. Unfortunately, as I arrive, Kyra gives a yell in some language I've never heard and dives into the fray, leaving me clinging to life and out of the battle. I move around the room, peering through the mist when Ezren does something and the mist disappears. I see the construct teetering on its final leg and energy blazes through my body as I launch myself with a scream at the thing. It bashes me with its shield, but before my last shred of consciousness leaves my body, I manage to cleave it from shoulder to midriff. When I later awaken, I found that my last blow sent the infernal machine to its death. Thanks to Gorum for guiding my blow!
The room Merisiel was so hot to get to contained gifts from the village of Kassen. My gift is a greatsword of immense beauty and craftmanship. I remember helping Braggard, the smith, to forge this beauty thinking it was intended for some fabulously wealthy nobleman. I will wield it will honor.
We move back to the other side of the dungeon, and open a door leading to a smoke filled room. Before I can manage to get into the room, Valeros and Merisiel are attacked by a smokey demon from the evernight that drains Valeros' strength and seems to ignore the attacks of Valeros' sword and Merisiel's daggers. Now I have to admit, growing up on in the northlands, I never saw such abominations in my life. A girl could rely on her sword spewing her enemy's blood into the sky, and once he was down, he would stay down. But these undead unnerve me to no end. As I stare down the hallway, willing myself to action, but afraid of a death where my steel means nothing and envisioning my death as a shriveled husk, my strength drained to nothing, I falter. The prayers of our wise women come to my lips and I watch as Merisiel plunges her hands into a fire and pulls forth a glowing dagger that she uses to vanquish the smokey demon, with the help of Kyra's god and her glowing fire.
Afterwards, I wonder whether my own tribe was right. Is my place in this world suckling children while preparing a home for my man? I need to think upon these things. It is obvious that the thought of these infernal undead creatures fills me with fear in a way that creatures made of flesh and bone don't. Hopefully, Gorum will see his way to guiding me through these troubling times.
The party moves back to a room we had been warned about. A large pillar shooting arrows need to be bypassed. Thankfully, Valeros wields "Home" and I heft "Family" and we provide cover for our comrades as we make our way through the room. Of course, in the process, Merisiel uncovers more of the infernal undead and fights them while I fetch Ezren across the room. These undead actually pull themselves together once they have been slain. It is unnatural I tell you. This "shrine" to Kassen is cursed and should be destroyed once we leave. These undead aren't natural and any place cursed by these beings is better off returning to the rock and dirt it came from.
-Amiri
This thread is really inspiring, I'm totally buying that module.
In all honesty, I believe one of the best marketing tools available when you want to sell an adventure module (or adventure path) is to showcase a group of characters (and players) experiencing it. It helps to paint the possibilities of the story contained in that adventure. And so it comes alive that much more, enticing folks to buy it because they can see the people who made it having fun with it too.
Just my two-cents,
--Neil
In all honesty, I believe one of the best marketing tools available when you want to sell an adventure module (or adventure path) is to showcase a group of characters (and players) experiencing it.
You speak truth!
Yep, I am so totally going to buy this. Also Merisiel wins teh interwebs.
YAY! But what's an interweb? Is that the sticky stuff that's inside of a giant spider before it comes out and gets turned into a spider web? Because I stabbed a giant spider once from behind and my dagger got stuck and I was wondering if it had interwebs in it because that would make a lot of sense. It was really frustrating because it ran up a wall and into a hole and the hole was all nasty and no way was I gonna chase after it but it took my dagger because it was still stuck in its interwebs, and it WASN'T FAIR!!
I hope there are no giant spiders in this dungeon.
YAY! But what's an interweb?
Interweb is like web only you're always inside it when I cast it.
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Director of Games
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I have updated my campaign journal. It can be found here!
Jason Bulmahn
Lead Designer
Paizo Publishing
Yep, I am so totally going to buy this. Also Merisiel wins teh interwebs.YAY! But what's an interweb? Is that the sticky stuff that's inside of a giant spider before it comes out and gets turned into a spider web? Because I stabbed a giant spider once from behind and my dagger got stuck and I was wondering if it had interwebs in it because that would make a lot of sense. It was really frustrating because it ran up a wall and into a hole and the hole was all nasty and no way was I gonna chase after it but it took my dagger because it was still stuck in its interwebs, and it WASN'T FAIR!!
I hope there are no giant spiders in this dungeon.
Looks at Merisiel through a rather noteworthy alchoholic haze, squinting as though attempting to discern how many of her were actually present.
Interweh *hic* inte*hic*weh ... ah, the queshtion subject, see, its like ... ummm ... chows down a tater skin *burps*
I shink the webs you are looking for are shtill in that hole. See?
Points at the maw of the ginormous spider slobbering on Merisiel's shoulder that nat-20'd its Stealth check.
Izzat the hole? *hic*
Merisiel ...
Merisiel.
I know that name ...
Have you ever been to a bathhouse ?
You guys play last night?
Curse that Vic! Foul spawn of Urgothoa.
Hope you feel better soon! That is after all the most important thing!
After a brief rest, our band decides to head down the stairs into the bowels of this hellacious place. I am a bit concerned, since our raving "friend" with the crossbow keeps talking about "the talking dead" and, though we have seen some sanity-destroying undead in the upper level, none of them could talk. It thus seems as if going down will bring us face to face with this demon of undeath. I just hope my sword can cut huge swathes from its body.
Going down the stairs, we come to a circular room with a pedestal. It tells us that going north will provide sustenance, east death and west a way to raise the portal. Merisiel and Valeros take off to the north like an arrow shot and find a water fountain. They both drink a large mouthful and find themselves healed, both of wounds and of the damage to their strength that they took from that shadow creature. Ezren, Kyra and myself refrain from drinking, since everyone knows that magic fountains usually only work once per person and I would rather have that card up my sleeve for later.
We go back to the circular room and head towards death. Valeros says that he would rather see if we actually need to find a way to raise the portal before braving the obviously flooded chambers to the west. The portal to the east takes us to a catacombs. It quickly becomes obvious that the bodies that used to lie in each of the catacomb's vaults have been removed by something. Considering how many undead we have fought, I am not surprised. However, as we move through the catacombs, only Valeros detects the approach of the undead. These zombies are covered with green slime oozing from open sores and other wounds. The stench is nigh unto unbearable, but I steel myself and move into attack position. The battle is swift, but not without consequences. As each zombie is cloven with our weapons, its puss spills onto our skin. It seems that Valeros has contracted something from this, though Merisiel, Kyra and myself are able to shake off the effects. I bet Valeros is wishing he hadn't of drunk from that fountain now.
We find a blood stain that still has a backpack lying in it. After using the broom that I brought from the upper floor, we discover some newly minted gold coins and a magical vial. It seems that somebody other than the villagers have been here recently. A door nearby leads to a room with a reflecting pool and a portcullis. True to form, Merisiel and Valeros charge off across the room. Both of them see their reflection in the pool as if they were rotting away. Valeros steels himself and looks away while Merisiel flees from the room and charges past us. After Valeros reunits with the party, we chase after Merisiel and find her huddled and babbling under one of the benches near the magical fountain.
Since it seems we need to raise a portal afterall, we enter the water logged corridors to the west. Valeros sees a room with a number of charred corpses and some sort of hanging plant matter and decides that we should head the other direction. A water logged door breaks under his strong pull and we find a room containing 3 rather large frogs. As the battle breaks out, Valeros is captured by the tongue of one of the frogs, effectively removing him from the battle. I rush to his aid and sever the tongue with one mighty chop from my blade. Unfortunately, the damage was already too severe for Valeros and he collapses by my side just as I am also ensnared by a second tongue. Reaching to my side for my trusty handaxe, I climb over the vegetation between me and frog, finally putting the devil to rest and freeing myself from its grasp. Valeros is made whole again by Kyra and we press on. We discover a room with a large winch on the far wall. Again, Valeros and Merisiel take off without a second's thougth. I swear by Gorum, they will meet their death someday in this way. And today was almost that day.
Valeros falls off the edge into a deep water pit, his armor sinking him to the bottom as he struggles to swim. At the same time, Merisiel is literally surrounded by skeletons, as they rise from the bottom of the pool. Merisiel shouts something like "Why do we always have to face monsters that are immune to my daggers?" I try to make my way to the front for battle, but find my way blocked as first Merisiel and then Kyra block the passage as they are pressed by skeletons. Frustrated by my inability to swing my blade, I grab a rock from the crumbling walls and throw it at the skeletons, missing by a wide margin. Meanwhile, we haven't seen Valeros in a bit and I start to fear he may have moved on to the afterlife. Merisiel comes close to making her final journey as well, but manages to get to safety as Kyra and myself finish off the skeletons. Just as the final one goes down, Valeros appears on the surface and pulls himself up with a wicked grin.
As I walk towards the winch to open the portal, Valeros correctly states that we should rest before we open up the portcullis to who knows what? So we head back to the room of sustenance and prepare to sleep. Just as sleep comes to calm my weary soul, we hear something...
This continues to be a fun read--thanks!
(And the player recovering from illness is the only one to put up a new post. Commitment is becoming really clear...)
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7 – Neth
I pause to scribe this entry after a day of dangers and near death. We have taken our rest in a sanctuary of sorts on the lower level, complete with fountain. Its soft burbling is relaxing to listen to, in sharp contrast to the rest of this level.
This morning I awoke to stand watch and greet the Rays of the Everlight in humble prayer. Upon completion of my morning prayers, I felt the wisdom of the Dawnflower settle upon me, bestowing more healing powers, the touch of the flame, and the will to harness more of Her Holy Might. For our first order of the day, we set upon the task of revealing the nature of our gifts found in the room beyond the wood statue. The townsfolk gifted me with a wand of healing, and a scroll of restoration...which I immediately used upon Valeros to counter some the shadow's damage. Amiri was quite pleased her item, a new large sword of fine quality. I examined two potions for Valeros, but he seemed disappointed that they were not more of the brandy that he immediately drank yesterday. Ezren received a wand as well, but has been quite angry with it. What is new?
We set out towards the wooden statue’s room again, to try an unopened door. We all expected to encounter the “room with a thousand arrows” as Roldare (he corrected me this morning on my spelling) calls it. This was that room. Valeros and Amiri hefted the giant shields as Merisiel and I hid behind them. I, unfortunately, do not hide as well as I wish, for I was struck many times by padded bolts spewing forth from a giant column in the middle of the room, bruising me so much that I still suffer from them tonight. We made it to the other door, which Merisiel opened and Valeros, Merisiel, and myself went through it while Amiri went back to escort Erzen to us. No sooner had Merisiel cleared the threshold, she was rushing down the hallway into the room beyond. And for her impatience, she was greeted by the undead.
These undead were an unholy variation I had not encountered in my training and studies. They reform. The Everlight itself cannot halt their recovery, and I cannot recall anything in my training that can stop the pieces from coming together. Together our party broke them down, but even before our eyes, they began to reform. I suggested we move their parts into the pit in the arrowed room, which had now gone silent after loosing its final missile. After this, we continued down the stairs to the lower level.
Here we came upon a pedestal that directed us three ways. Forward for refreshment. To the left to lift a gate. Right to Kassen’s tomb. Merisiel and Valeros, of course, opted for refreshment first. We came upon this room, with resting benches and a fountain. Merisiel immediately drank from it, and exclaimed with delight that the waters had restorative properties. Actually, I think she said, “Yummy.” Not to let an opportunity go unwasted, Valeros drank as well. Amiri and I declined, anticipating a great need for such a gift later on. Ezren mumbled about hating all of us.
From here, we proceeded to follow the impatient two-some into the tomb area. Strangely, no bodies were interred here, but a horrid stench was everywhere. I gave Sarenrae’s gift of resistance to all to counter the foul smell, but in doing so, failed to see the pus-filled zombies approach. Valeros and Merisiel fought bravely enough, but Valeros succumbed to one too many attacks. I was able to see, thanks to my training at the temple, that these undead were plagueborne, and Valeros had taken the plague as well. Curse that man and his gluttony!! The waters he so freely drank without a thought could be his only salvation! He, of course, took this development in stride. Sarenrae help us all….
The others found a backpack filled with recent coinage from some neighboring land, and a notice of employment and a map to this crypt. I think they found a curative potion as well. I know not. They seem to keep these things from me now, as I believe they waste them in panic. The Two-Some ran off to another room to check the gate, and Merisiel came shrieking back and ran past us. Perhaps, by the Dawnflower’s grace, she is beginning to learn that being first is not the best course. I can only hope. Valeros explained that a pool in the next room is cursed, and shows horrible images of yourself rotting away. He also confirmed that the gate is locked, and that thousands of bats are beyond it. We all quietly retreated…why I know not. Merisiel screamed enough for all of us.
Amiri found Merisiel cowering under a bench in the fountain room, and after a bit, we continued to the next area which was filled with water. One room was filled with water, with strangely scorched bodies of rats and a body. Bright blue fungi hung from the walls and ceiling. The fungus made everyone uneasy, so we tried the other door, swollen and wet. We all feared that a great amount of water was behind this door, pressing it outward, so Valeros rigged up some rope and twine, and pulled at the door from a distance. All for not, as the door collapsed in a rotted mess. Within, we came upon three enormous frogs and their nests. Valeros set out to attack the nearest, which promptly wrapped its tongue about him and pulled him into its mouth for a meal. I shot one frog squarely on, while Amiri attacked the third. Ezren and Merisiel fought as well, but Valeros went down…AGAIN. Merisiel pulled him above the water, and Amiri severed its tongue, freeing Valeros. I moved in to rebuke death from his body, and set to work to finish the frogs with Amiri and Ezren.
Turning back, I saw Valeros stand, looking far better than he should have (another potion I suspect), and he reentered the fray. Once the frogs were dead, we searched the nests to find half a body and more of the current coinage. These victims appear to be of the same group, not from Kassen. Looters then?
Valeros continued on to the other room with Merisiel close at his heels. Within the room is a large wheel at the other end, presumably to open the gate. Valeros strutted across the room, and then…promptly sank beneath the water! At the same time, a gang of skeletons rose from the water, and surrounded Merisiel. She attacked but could do little against them with her daggers. I then called upon the Might of Sarenrae, and her holy energy burst from me to destroy three of them. This gave Merisiel a chance to retreat behind me, and I stepped forward to beat the next one down. Amiri came up behind me, eager to fight, enough so that she started throwing rocks at the skeletons. I bashed the opposing skeleton aside, and she rushed through to defeat the final one.
And at this, Valeros crawled out from the waters, smiled his smarmy smile, and said, “Hello, ladies.” He seems awfully sure of himself for a man with a yellow boil starting up on his arm.
Sarenrae protect us all.
And this dungeon is now the Scary Dungeon because not only did that pool make me look all gross and rotty and not only was there a big room filled with bats, but every monster in here is immune to my daggers. That really really really pisses me off. Because usually when I stab something in the eye or the neck or the junk or the gut or the squeezebox they cry and run away or fall down. Zombies don't. They just let your dagger stick in them and then you can't get it back until that hot cleric zaps them with her magic angel statue thingy. Well... I assume she's hot... but she wears an awful lot of clothes and unlike Valeros she never strips down to go swimming. Although Valeros didn't strip down to go swimming in that water later. He just jumped in. Very very disappointing, but there were skeletons attacking me then so I didn't have time to ogle anyway and know what? Skeletons don't care about your stabby stuff either. I'm really good at skewering them so that the blade goes right between ribs or arm bones or gets all rattly in an eyesocket and they don't care but then stab and claw me and make me run away.
I hate running away.
But those frogs were all right. They were all squishy and I wasted too much time around the corner with that stupid little bow and by the time I got in there to stab stab stab Amiri and Valeros were already getting all licked up by the frogs. Note to self. As much as it might be tempting to do so do not lick Amiri because she'll climb inside you and stab your throat pouch out from inside and then you'll die and have your tongue cut off. But the frog tongues are kinda fun once they get cut off since you can whip them like a sticky whip and they stick to walls and sarcophaguses and stuff and you can even whip them at things on the floor to pick them up without having to walk over to them. When Valeros fell in the icky skeleton water I got mauled and ran away (grrrr) and ran back to get a frog tongue and stuck a rock on it to lower it down to get him out but he got out on his own cause he's a big boy who don't need help I guess. Still. I've got a frog tongue sticky whip now. Wonder how long it'll stay sticky? Guess I'll find out.