[BBF] Age of Worms

[mikeawmids]

(BBF) AGE OF WORMS

1/12: THE WHISPERING CAIRN

A group of adventurous types from the Free City have arrived in the dirty, dangerous mining community of Diamond Lake and advertised their intention to explore/plunder the Stirgenest Cairn on the other side of the water. The locals believe they are wasting their time, as all the old barrows were looted decades ago. The group consists of a handsome, muscular blond man called Auric (who loudly claims to have won the Champions Belt in the Free City Games), Khellik (a sinister looking wizard wearing crimson robes) and Tirra (a feisty elven rogue with an uncanny affinity with knives).

Also in The Emporium that night are our own heroes, they have known each other for some time already but have no notion of the great bond of friendship that will be forged through the fires of imminent adversity.

MONROSE KHAN: One-eyed Half-Orc swordsman and wannabe-Casanova. Despite his savage look, he does possess a certain, indefinable charm. Maybe it’s the patch. He is lying low in Diamond Lake after seducing the wrong man’s wife back in the Free City, as he believes the cuckolded husband has hired bounty hunters to bring his life of debauchery to an abrupt end.

IGGURUK: A brutish and headstrong lizardman, forced to leave his marshy homeland after a failed attempt to wrest control of the tribe from a more powerful rival. Despite his monstrous nature, his presence is tolerated in Diamond Lake because his mighty brawn and pitiful brain make him an effective bruiser whenever mine manager Balabar Smenk needs some poor bastard roughed up. This has caused tension between Igguruk and Kullen, who suspects that the formidable lizardman might harbour designs to replace him as Smenk’s right-hand man (well, orc).

NATHANDER NEFF: A distant cousin of the Governor Mayor of Diamond Lake. It was soon discovered that he had no head for numbers and Lanod Neff fobbed the useless youth off on his brother Allustan. Surprisingly, the wizard found the young man to have some latent magical aptitude and has been grooming him to act as his assistant/apprentice.

BRUNORA BLACKFLAGON: A pious dwarven cleric, she has been searching for her missing brother (Brunard Blackflagon) for many years and the trail of breadcrumbs has led her to the mining town of Diamond Lake. She believes he might be working for one of the mine managers, but has not been able to locate him thus far.

An old man approaches the tables the heroes share (it’s a busy night in The Emporium). His face is cast in shadow by the hood he wears, the firelight barely highlights the outline of his long, hooked nose and the glimmer of his dark eyes. He shares the general consensus that the trio from the Free City are fools, but tells the group that there is another tomb that may yet contain treasure that lies unclaimed, forgotten amongst the dust and the dark. The folk of Diamond Lake have all but forgotten the existence of the Whispering Cairn, the hills where it can be found are avoided, as a pack of vicious wolves roam that whole area. From his cloak, the stranger produces a curious lantern fashioned of purple glass. He tells heroes it will illuminate their path to greatness. Before he can be interrogated further, the old man melts into the crowd and is gone….

Monrose leans forward and uses the smouldering tip of his foul, orcish roll-up to light the lantern. It casts their four faces in a mysterious purple glow, but has no other obvious effect. Someone clears his throat. Looking about, the heroes see that the wizard Khellik has wandered over to admire their unexpected acquisition. He asks where they found such a remarkable item and would they consider selling it to him? The party confer amongst themselves and decide that they would rather hold onto the lantern for the time being, at least until they work out what the old man meant by “it will illuminate your path to greatness”. The red-robed sorcerer nods understandingly and bids the party a good evening, he seems to have taken the rejection of his offer very well (or has he?).

While the party had been lukewarm on the notion of venturing into the Whispering Cairn before, Khellik’s sudden interest in the mysterious lantern has piqued their own. They agree to head into the hills the next morning and at least have a poke around the old barrow mound.

The next morning dawns grey and overcast. The party travel overland and reach the cairn during the eleventh hour of the morning. Despite the pervasive drizzle, they resist the urge to seek shelter within the cairn, as they know it is occupied by dangerous animals. They make enough racket to wake the wolves and draw them into the open. Four snarling beasts edge into the rain.

Brunora trundles forward, but the nimble wolves easily evade the clumsy sweep of her hammer. Two wolves circle the dwarven cleric, the first feints to the left, creating an opening for the second beast to lunge! Brunora raises her shield and the wolf bounces off it with a surprised yelp. The other two wolves menace Nathander and Monrose. They seem reluctant to antagonize the huge lizardman. Nathander casts Charm to calm the savage animals, but they are too busy trying to tear out his scrawny throat to pay his magic much mind. Monrose jabs at his own furry fur for light damage (3).
Igguruk rolls a Critical Failure on his first attack roll and his spear strikes a rock protruding from the stony ground. The point breaks off, leaving the confused looking lizardman holding what is essentially a big stick. The wolves loll their tongues as though laughing at his misfortune. Then Nathander ALSO rolls a Critical Failure! He casts Offensive Strike to set the wolf’s pelt ablaze and accidentally ignites his own robes. He will take 1D fire damage at the start of every round until he puts out the flames now licking at his legs. The wolves loll even harder. Monrose perforates a wolf with a series of lightning fast jabs of his rapier (7 damage), it does not get back up. While Igguruk defends himself with his broken speak, Brunora inflicts MASSIVE damage (22) upon one wolf, caving its skull in with one mighty blow of her warhammer. She hits the other wolf on her backswing (15 damage) and it also crumples.
Nathander takes 2 damage from his flaming robes. The apprentice magician stops, drops and rolls. Monrose steps over the shrieking wizard and drives his slender blade through the last wolf’s heart.

Once Nathander has extinguished his burning robes, the party begin their exploration of the Whispering Cairn in earnest. They descend into a large, domed chamber. Seven tunnels branch of this central hub, each tunnel terminates after 30ft, where a thick, iron chain dangles from the roof of the passage. Five of the seven chains already have lanterns hanging from them. Nathander realises that the colours of these lanterns correspond to the seven colours of the rainbow (Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain). They hang the purple lantern that they were given in Diamond Lake up with the others, nothing happens, evidently they need all seven and there is still one missing.
The centre of the chamber is dominated by a raised, stone sarcophagus. Eager to prove that he is the strongest member of the group, Igguruk strains to open the box single-handed. The heavy stone lid of the sarcophagus saves the reckless lizardman from the fiery effects of the trap he’s just triggered. As useful as the lid is as a makeshift riot shield, it is much too heavy to cart around, so Igguruk props it up against the empty sarcophagus. Doing so causes the platform to shift slightly and the party realise that the whole plinth rotates 360’. It only goes clockwise, so they spin it around to face the green lantern. They hear something rumbling along the tunnel and move to investigate, daring to hope they’ve found the hidden entrance to some previously undiscovered treasure. They are unpleasantly surprised as the floor falls away from beneath their feet, revealing a deep shaft descending deeper into the earth. Monrose only avoids a nasty tumble into the dark by grabbing hold of the dangling chain. Dangling over the abyss, the half-orc hears something (or many somethings) scuttling towards the light…. A swarm of ravenous acid beetles erupt from the pit!

The beetles leave a trail of bright yellow, acidic slime in their wake. Monrose is out of their reach as he swings from the chain over the shaft. Both Igguruk and Brunora make their resistance checks the swarm’s caustic secretions. Nathander casts Offensive Strike and targets the bugs with a carpet of fire, incinerating the lot of them. Monrose hears something else climbing the shaft. A bulbous, bloodshot eyeball with six scythe-like legs scrambles from the pit and fixes the dangling half-orc with its terrible stare. Igguruk tramps up while the aberration is menacing Monrose and t%~$s it with his stick, then again, until it has been reduced to a foul gelatinous smear across the floor.

The heroes decide to investigate the other six tunnels before climbing down the creepy hole. Igguruk moves the heavy lid of the sarcophagus to obstruct the opening. Nothing happens when they rotate the sarcophagus to face the blue lantern. They do find a broken skeleton sprawled beneath the chain, which rises into a shadowy shaft in the ceiling of the tunnel. Again, Igguruk takes charge and scrambles up the chain. The lizardman finds himself in a long tunnel, terminating in a large, stone face. Approaching warily, Igguruk still triggers another trap. The stone eyes snap open and project a swirling pattern of vibrant colours. Igguruk rolls badly on his resistance check and is transfixed by the pretty lightshow. The stone mouth drops open and a howling wind blows the dazed brute back to the lip of the 40ft drop. Igguruk takes 13 damage from the fall. The pain breaks the trance and he roars with frustration and fury! Stupid tomb!

When the sarcophagus is turned to point towards the violet lantern, an arcane elevator rises from the ground and its door slides open invitingly. Nathander and Brunora both notice a fine powder in the bottom of the cylinder. The apprentice mage scoops a handful into his palm and identifies it as crushed bone, indispersed with fragments of a crushed ruby. Suspicious, they fetch the skull of the poor bastard lying beneath the blue lantern and place it inside the elevator. Sure enough, the door closes and when it reopens, the skull has been crushed into fine, white bone-dust. The group decide to leave the trapped elevator alone and move on to the next tunnel.

Another arcane elevator appears once the sarcophagus has been orientated towards the orange lantern. Suspecting another trap, they chuck more bones inside, but these return whole and uncrushed. Having already triggered two traps, Igguruk does not want to go first again. Brunora volunteers. She emerges in the Lair of the Architect. The rest of the party follow, one at a time. Igguruk can barely squeeze his muscular bulk into the narrow cylinder.
A heavy stone slab blocks the passage to the south. Igguruk flexes his claws and knocks it over. Immediately, the room is flooded with a noxious green gas! Only Nathander inhales the poisonous fumes before scrambling over the toppled block. He takes 10 damage and is dazed. Choking and spluttering, the young arcanist fails to notice the approach of a lurking strangler until it has wrapped its fleshy fronds around his neck!

The strangler, which resembles two floating eyeballs trailing a string of meaty tentacles floats over and fires its eye beams. Brunora collapses and begins to snore. Monrose turns and flees away from this terrifying aberration – straight back into the cloud of poisonous gas! (Brunora will be asleep of 3 rounds, Monrose will be afeared for 6)

The strangler uses its beam attacks again, but both Igguruk and Nathander shrug off the effects. Nathander hurls a fireball at the creature, but his eyes are still weeping from exposure to the gas and his aim is off. Igguruk flails at the strangler ineffectually. It lashes out at the lizardman with its whip-like tendrils, inflicting light damage (3). Enraged, Igguruk clocks it with his staff (11 damage) and Nathander finishes it off with a fireball, toasting the horrible aberration.

The triumphant heroes wake Brunora up and wait for Monrose to return, muttering some feeble excuse about having left the stove on back at his shack.

[mikeawmids]

The tunnel ahead is blocked by an unwholesome looking growth of lumpy, brown mould. The closer the party get to it, the colder it becomes. Venturing closer, the torches carried by the group cause the mold to suddenly double in size! Nathander fails his resistance checks against the freezing aura and has to be dragged to safety, teeth chattering as his extremities begin to turn black. Brunora casts Heal on the shivering mage to prevent him losing some toes. Once the shaking abates, Nathander is able to identify the mold and informs the others that while fire will cause the brown mold to grow, cold-based attacks will destroy it. He is still too weak to channel enough energy into the spell, so the party make camp in the cairn. Everyone recovers 2 BP overnight. Everyone except Nathander takes a watch, but their rest is undisturbed.

The next morning, Nathander destroys the brown mold with an ice-themed Offensive Strike aqnd the group are able to continue their exploration of the cairn. They are disappointed to find the final room on this level is a ransacked workshop, dominated by an unfinished sculpture of the great Wind Duke Zosiel. A smooth black egg inscribed with golden glyphs rests atop a pedestal, not even Nathander can identify this curiosity. The group do find some worthwhile loot…

Suit of masterwork chainmail (DR+6)
Wand of Unseen Servant (as the Summon power)
Wand of Shatter (new power)
Goggles of Minute Seeing (+20% to Notice checks based on vision)

Returning to the false tomb, the heroes resign themselves to climbing down the shaft beneath the green lantern. One side of the area into which they drop is overflowing with a soupy, orange sludge. Nathander assures the party it is not more mold, rather some manner of nutrient-rich slime (like most microwaveable ready meals). That side of the room is swarming with bugs (both the little, acid-dripping ones and some larger, more aggressive specimens), they seem content to tolerate the presence of adventurers, providing they intrude upon their territory. The party edge away, leaving the critters to enjoy their slime.

Moving to the opposite side of the area, the party find a room containing rows of uncomfortable looking stone cots, their best guess is it once served as a barracks for the laborers who excavated the dungeon. As they move between the slabs, everyone begins to feel very sleepy. Yawning, both Monrose and Igguruk climb onto the stone bunks for a power nap. Nothing Nathander or Brunora do will rouse them from their sudden torpor. While they are trying to wake their companions, a humanoid statue emerges from an alcove in the far wall and moves towards the helpless sleepers, brandishing a heavy stone mace. Nathander produces the Wand of Shatter that he found in the Lair of the Architect and taps it against the murderous golem, causing it to explode into a thousand shards of superheated stone. Monrose and Igguruk do not recover from the enchantment upon them until Nathander and Brunora roll them off the stone slabs and drag them out of the rom.

Rubbing the sleep from their eyes, the group forge ahead. They discover the rest of this level is flooded with cold, dark water – presumably from the neighboring lake. Being aquatic, Igguruk can move through the flooded areas freely, everyone else is disadvantaged. The lizardman goes on ahead to scope out the area ahead, before anyone else gets their boots wet. He finds a body clutching the last lantern. As he prises the corpse’s dead fingers from his prize, Igguruk notices a disturbance in the water and is not caught completely unawares by the insane water elemental that has taken issue with his intrusion upon its drowned den. The elemental engulfs Igguruk, who begins to drown. He struggles free of the vortex and paddles back to rejoin the others. The elemental does not leave the water, but a jagged spear of ice impales Igguruk for 13 damage before they get away.

Hanging the red lantern from the final chain, the party once again approach the stone face that previously frustrated their progress. Having collected and lit all seven colored lamps, the stone mouth drops open, allowing them to continue.

Beyond the stone face, the floor of the tunnel drops away into a pit filled with small, iron spheres. The pit is traversed via a narrow beam of petrified wood. There is a large, ornate door on the opposite side of the pit. Monrose is the lightest on his feet, so he goes first. As moves carefully along the slender platform, an iron ball is fired from a hidden trap, hitting the half-orc in the face for 8 damage. He loses his balance and tumbles into the pit. A disembodied voice chuckles merrily at his misfortune. Brunora tries to cross, readying her shield to deflect any more unexpected missiles. The first sphere bounces off the shield, the second catches her exposed shoulder, but she does not fall. The third ball is also deflected. Having reached the other side, Brunora is nonplussed to learn the door has no obvious lock or handle. The ghost of a teenage boy passes through the sealed portal, congratulating the dwarf on having traversed the pit. The spook introduces itself as Alastor Land, thirty years ago, his friends dared him to enter the Whispering Cairn, He made it to this chamber, but was killed when one of the metal balls caved in his fragile, human skull (fortunately, Monrose has a thicker head). He tells the party that the door to the real tomb (and all the fabulous wealth contained within) can only be opened from the other side. He is prepared to unlock it for them – but only if they agree to return his bones (which are in the pit) to the family plot, just outside of Diamond Lake. Once his body has been buried alongside the rest of his kin, the ghost promises to open the sealed door. Brunora is convinced the specter will honor the deal and instructs Monrose (since he is already in the pit) to start digging for the boy’s bones. Monrose grumbles some more, nursing his bruised face.

The heroes return to Diamond Lake, arriving just after dusk. Nathander reports in with his master, the great wizard Allustan, who seems very interested in his exploits within the Whispering Cairn. Monrose and Brunora head for the Emporium, to wet their respective whistles. The rakish half-orc is approached by an attractive elven adventurer called Tirra. Monrose rolls a Critical Failure on his Will roll to resist her seductive overtures and begins braging about his heroism within the Whispering Cairn. Tirra pretends to be impressed as the half-orc spills his guts. Brunora notices what is happening before Monrose can reveal everything to the charismatic spy and quickly challenges him to a drinking contest. Tirra glowers at the canny dwarf before excusing herself to report back with Khellik and co. Meanwhile, Igguruk is called to one side by his employer. Balabar Smenk tells him that there is a bounty out for his friend Monrose’s head. He encourages the lizardman to stay close to the half-orc until they are ready to collect on the reward.

(Everyone gets DP for completing their exploration of the Whispering Cairn! Monrose buys his first rank in Warrior and puts the other three points into Strength. Igguruk puts all six DP into Strength. Nathander buys a second rank in Spellcaster (gaining two new powers: Illusion and Summon). Brunora puts a second rank into Cleric and gains the ability to cast Cleanse.)

The locals are able to direct the group to the old Land place, but advised that nobody has lived there for ten years. After young Alastor disappeared, the rest of his family succumbed to the plague that swept through Diamond Lake 19 years ago. When they get there, the heroes find evidence that the family plot has been recently disturbed by graverobbers. Unless Alastor’s bones are reunited with those of his family, the group will not have fulfilled the terms of their agreement with Alastor’s ghost. They will have to recover the stolen remains of his kin before returning to the cairn.

Investigating the old, abandoned farmhouse, the heroes find an important (but disgusting) clue! Igguruk finds a severed arm, marked with a distinctive tattoo that he knows several of Smenk’s other enforcers share. Nathander turns green and vomits up his breakfast. Suddenly, a wounded/enraged owlbear bursts into the room, screeching with maternal rage!

Igguruk throws the severed arm at the beast, distracting it long enough for him to ready his staff. Monrose moves up to slash at the owlbear’s flank with his rapier. It backhands the half-orc across the rom then advances on Igguruk. Nathander casts Offensive Strike to hurl a fireball at the creature. It flails at the air as its fur burns. Brunora throws her warhammer at the owlbear’s head with a sickening crunch. It makes a puzzled noise and collapses in the middle of the room, blood pooling from its bashed-in skull.

[mikeawmids]

While the rest of the heroes finish off the mortally wounded owlbear, Igguruk must resolve his own, internal conflict. He recognizes the tattoo on the severed arm, but fears sharing this knowledge with the group, as interference in Smenk’s interests can be unconducive to a long and happy life. On the other (scaly) hand, it is only a matter of time before the others identify the distinctive tattoo and begin to wonder why he didn’t speak up sooner. Of course, this also presents a unique opportunity to discredit Kullen and displace the albino half-orc as Smenk’s go-to goon…. Weighing up his options, Igguruk tells his companions that men bearing this mark gather at The Feral Dog, a seedy tavern frequented by the lowest dregs of Diamond’s Lake (already less that stellar) society.

Before leaving the Land farmhouse, the lizardman notices a curious mewling noise. Investigating, the group discover the body of a second dead owlbear, curled protectively around a screeching hatchling. It is pretty adorable, like a plush toy – albeit one that could someday tear out your entrails. Both of its parents now lie dead – and since the group were responsible for killing one of them – that kinda’ makes them responsible for the newly orphaned monster. Nathander wants to keep it as a pet/familiar and Monrose agrees, on the grounds that the thing is cute enough to attract women. Brunora doubts the wisdom of this course. Igguruk wonders if baby owlbears are edible? Nobody is prepared to entertain his curiosity, so they bundle the creature up in a spare cloak and return to Diamond Lake to confront Kullen. Nathander suggest keeping their new ‘team mascot’ in one of the abandoned mine offices outside the town limits. After arguing over a name, they eventually settle on Olliver.

The heroes head to The Feral Dog. Igguruk hangs back as he is too well known to Kullen and company. The albino half-orc and his men are drinking and betting on the outcome of a vicious dogfight. They mark Monrose the moment he enters, as Smenk had also made Kullen aware of the bounty on the half-orc’s head. The albino brute resents Smenk taking Igguruk into his confidence and sees this as an opportunity to steal the lizardman’s thunder by snatching Monrose himself. Kullen’s gang surround the party, looking to start something. They are all drunk and there is simply no reasoning with such people.

Kullen initiates hostilities by taking a swing at Monrose. Rolling a Critical Failure, he punches the wall instead and breaks his hand. Brunora splashes ale in the albino’s face then tries to shove him backwards into the hound pit. Kullen backhands the dwarven cleric with his good hand. Nathander casts Illusion to make Kullen look like Monrose and vice-versa. In the thick of the fighting, the Illusion tricks three of Kullen’s five men to start attacking him. One of these three turns out to be a spellcaster, who casts Charm/Sleep against his own boss, but Kullen shakes off the effects, as the other two goons pile on top of him. The last two thugs attacks Nathander and the real Monrose respectively. Outside, Igguruk hears the disturbance and lumbers over to join the fighting.

Brunora picks herself up off the (sticky) floor and clobbers the thug menacing Nathander with a chair. He throws a punch back, but wasn’t expecting to be up against such a short adversary and the blow goes over her head. The enemy wizard puts Kullen to sleep and the other two goons begin kicking his recumbent form, still believing it to be Monrose. Igguruk bursts into the common room and immediately rolls a Critical Failure on his attack roll, causing his already broken to spear to snap in half, leaving him holding the two useless halves. Nathander casts Charm/Sleep against the enemy spellcaster, who resists. The young mage panics and throws a tankard at the man’s head.

Monrose delivers a bone-jarring uppercut to one of Kullen’s goons and the man’s lights blink out. Igguruk reverses his grip on one half of his broken speak and buries it in another guy’s chest as though he were staking a particularly unimpressive vampire. He throws the other piece at the enemy mage, who staggers backwards and disappears over the lip of the hound pit. Realising that they have spent the last few rounds kicking seven shades of brown out of their own boss, the last two thugs surrender.

The heroes tie Kullen to a chair and splash ale in his face to wake him up. He is not best pleased with recent developments. Igguruk tilts him over the hound pit to encourage swift and truthful responses to his interrogation. Grudgingly, the albino reveals that they were instructed to gather bones for a necromancer chum of Balabar Smenk, who has set up shop in the old observatory overlooking the town. Since it was too risky to plunder the town cemetery, they visited the outlying farms and raided the smaller, family plots for corpses, which they delivered to Filge (the necromancer). Since this unwholesome fellow is now in possession of the Land family bones, the heroes resign themselves to making a house call.

The old observatory stands apart from the other residences of Diamond Lake, making it easier to approach the entrance unremarked. Monrose tries to pick the lock securing the entrance against trespassers, but breaks his tools off in the lock (another Critical Failure). Igguruk – never an advocate of the softly, softly approach – hauls the incompetent rogue out of the way and applies the sole of his scaly foot to the problem, kicking the doors off their hinges! A hail of crossbolts are fired in response to this trespass, striking the burly lizardman for 19 damage! As their eyes adjust to the darkness beyond the threshold, the heroes spy a group of four animated skeletons calmly reloading their weapons for another barrage…!

[mikeawmids]

Heedless to their peril, the heroes scramble over the makeshift barricade to engage the skeletons in melee before they can reload their weapons. Brunora strikes the nearest one with her warhammer and it breaks apart in a shower of chalky splinters.

“Careful!” Nathander chastises the over-zealous cleric, “We don’t know if these are the bodies Kullen stole from the Land place! If they are, we’ll have to piece that one back together again.”

Monrose runs his rapier through another skeleton’s bony chest, the slender blade rattles harmlessly against its exposed ribs. Evidently stabby/jabby weapons are less effective than smashy ones. Noting the half-orc’s difficulty, Igguruk uses the flat of his sword (taken from one of Kullen’s goons to replace his broken spear) to batter another skeleton into submission. Having already given Brunora a lecture on restraint, Nathander finds he can hardly start throwing fireballs around and falls back on Charm. The remaining skeletons prove immune to his mind control, presumably because their hollow skulls are devoid of actual brain matter. After carefully dismantling the four skeletons, the party carefully sweep the bone fragments up into a neat pile in one corner of the room.

Continuing their search for the necromancer Filge, the heroes find the ground floor of the observatory has been repurposed into a somewhat dingy banquet hall. The seats around the long table are occupied by a number of well-dressed – but exceedingly dead – dinner guests, arranged in a morbid tableau.

“Once again, milord has provided an excellent meal,” one zombie announces, splashing wine across the table as it gestures clumsily towards the one empty chair at the head of the gathering, “It is an honor to dine in your august presence.”

“I should never have doubted you, Filge,” chimes in the corpse of what must have once been an attractive young woman, her head hanging at a grotesque angle “I always loved you when we were together, now I will love you forever.”

“This is unsettling.” Nathander observes, edging away from the table, “I begin to suspect our friend Filge does not have much of a social life. He needs to get out more. This cannot be healthy.”

Stairs lead up to the second floor of the observatory, which is obviously the necromancer’s bedroom. It is unoccupied, save for a small, mummified goblin standing motionless beside Filge’s unmade bed. It is wearing a top hat and holds a tray, upon which rests the severed head of a surprised-looking woman. Upon her tongue lies a single platinum piece. Everyone is pleasantly surprised not to find another chatty corpse in the necromancer’s bed (“Oh Filge, you’re such a considerate lover… etc”).

Igguruk and Monrose examine the mummified goblin while Nathander rifles through the contents of Filge’s cluttered desk. Igguruk considers stealing the smart top hat of the corpse, as it will give him a refined look at odds with his monstrous nature. Meanwhile, Nathander finds a letter from Balabar Smenk, reading;

‘Filge;
I need you in Diamond Lake, my boy. The cult situation has grown worse. Deep within Dourstone Mine, they’re studying things bought in from the southern hills. Green worms and unkillable zombies. I nicked one of the worms for you to study.
I’ll put you up in the old observatory. Show this letter to the big white half-orc at The Feral Dog. He’ll get you settled. I trust you’ll find these coins sufficient to cover your travel expenses from the Free City.
Smenk’

Unable to resist, Igguruk reaches out a clawed hand to take the top hat. As he does so, the severed head upon the tray the goblin carries begins to scream. Unable to shut the gruesome thing up, the lizardman throws it down the stairs. Having now lost the element of surprise, the heroes rush up onto the third level of the observatory. The huge telescope that must have once dominated this domed chamber has been removed and Filge has transformed the space into a crude but functional operating theatre. A gaunt man in a blood-stained overall stands over the partially dissected corpse strapped to a gurney.

“Ah, a house warming party. Are you here to welcome me to your quaint community?” Filge inquires, wiping his gore-streaked hands on his coat, “No, I think not. You must have destroyed my skeletons, or you would not have made it this far. Who are you?”

“We’re the people here to put an end to your grave-robbing, necromancer.” Brunora snarled, brandishing her warhammer with intent.

“Kullen told us he bought you the bodies he dug up from the Land farmstead,” added Nathander diplomatically, “We just want them back, then we’ll be on our way and you can go back to… whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Like rot he can!” Brunora spat.

“Oh dear, I’m afraid I simply cannot agree to those terms,” Filge replied with a humorless grin, “I’ve never had such a useful assistant as the one your albino friend recently acquired for me. Look, isn’t she just precious? I couldn’t possibly give her up.”

The necromancer gestures toward a child-sized skeleton tottering after him. Her small, bony skull has been opened up and the cavity within now stores various surgical tools.

“We’re taking those bones back, whether you agree or not!” Igguruk growls.

“Isn’t that my top hat you’re wearing?” Filge asks, pointing to the stolen headware atop the lizardman’s scaly brow.

Having exhausted the extent of his patience, Filge commands his undead minions to attack the heroes. Four grossly muscled zombie brutes emerge from the sludge-filled tanks along the edges of the room and the pathetic figure strapped to the operating struggle struggles against its bonds to join the fray. Igguruk and Monrose move to keep the zombies away from the quishy spellcaster, while Nathander casts Charm to take control over one of the undead brutes. Filge reaches into the gaping chest of his most recent victim and wrenches out a swollen zombie bladder, which he throws at the heroes. It explodes on impact, inflicting ten damage and showering the group with foul-smelling goo. The zombie under Nathander’s control stomps over to the necromancer and grabs him by the legs. Filge screams as his bones are broken in the strong zombie’s vice-like grip. The brute begins swinging Filge around like a ragdoll (remember how Hulk did the same thing to Loki at the end of The Avengers movie?).

The heroes finish off the remaining zombies and peel what’s left of Filge off the floor. Unfortunately, he is in no state to answer any questions, on account of being dead.

“Bad zombie!” Nathander chides his moaning goon, wagging a stern finger in the creature’s face, “If you cannot play nicely then you will have no toys left!”

“Braiinnnsssss….” The zombie groans, by way of apology.

“Aww, that was kind of cute, wasn’t it?” Nathander askes the others, who do not deign the question worthy of a response, “I can’t stay mad at you, you big lug! Hey guys, can we keep him?”

“We already have a baby owlbear,” said Monrose, “Surely one dangerous pet/mascot is enough.”

[mikeawmids]

Having released the bones of Alastor’s kin from Filge’s necromantic apprenticeship scheme, the heroes return to the Land homestead to return them to their graves. Nathander spends some time trying to piece together the individual skeletons (like an extravagant 3D jigsaw puzzle), but soon grows weary of the thankless task and just spreads the bones as evenly as possible amongst the holes in the cold ground. Igguruk refills the graves while Brunora says a few words, imploring the disturbed spirits to rest easy once more. Having reunited Alastor’s bones with those of his dead family, the group have completed their side of their bargain with the boy’s shade. If the ghost honours his end of the agreement, he will now open the sealed portal to the real treasure chamber.

The party spend the night in Diamond Lake before returning to the Whispering Cairn the next morning. Khellek and the other two Free City adventurers are not at their usual table in the Emporium. Monrose is disappointed to find no sign of their foxy elven rogue (whom he has the horn for). Only Brunora is troubled by the absence of their rival group, whom she learns have been asking questions about the Whispering Cairn, ever since Monrose revealed the existence of the forgotten tomb during a drunken fumble with Tirra.

When the heroes arrive at the Whispering Cairn, they hear voices raised in argument, echoing within. The Free City Adventurers are bickering with each other, having been unable to break through the impassable door haunted by Alastor’s ghost. The spook’s gleeful mockery of their incompetence is doing little to restore their good cheer.

Creeping closer, only Brunora notices the jaws of the trap before they spring closed. Her dwarven eyes quickly adapt to the darkness of the tomb and she alone notices the unreal quality of the scene, an illusion created by Khellek to lure the heroes in. Monrose grunts with alarm as he bounces off an invisible wall of force. The three heroes quickly realise they have been boxed in on all sides and are helpless as rabbits.

“Ah, I was wondering when you would return,” Khellek said, as he, Auric and Tirra appeared out of thin air, “Your intangible friend illuminated us on the details of your contract. You restore his remains to the family plot and in return, he opens the door to the Wind Duke’s tomb. How deep did you bury those bones? We had expected you back days ago.”

“There were complications.” Monrose drawled, glowering at Tirra, “You can buy your own drinks next time.”

“Once we get into the treasure chamber, I’ll be able to buy the brewery.” She pouted at his stern expression, “Don’t be such a grump, honey. It was all business.”

“Where is your dwarf?” Khellek asked, finally noticing the cleric’s absence.

“She decided to stay in town,” Nathander lied, “She got a lead on her brother’s whereabouts and is following it up. We three came alone.”

From her hiding place behind the Wind Duke’s false sarcophagus, Brunora tightened the grip on her warhammer and waited, every ragged breath a deafening roar to her ears.

“Uh huh…” Khellek grunted, thoroughly unconvinced, “Well, down to business then. We have a particular interest in a relic rumoured to have been entombed with the Wind Duke to whom this delightfully airy crypt is dedicated. Unfortunately, we cannot recover this item – which I assure you is of no interest or value to anyone other than myself – until your ghostly conspirator unseals yonder portal, which he will only do with your consent. Now, we considered ambushing you on your way out of the cairn and simply taking everything you’d plundered, but Tirra urged us to be… reasonable. So here we are, working towards a diplomatic resolution.”

“Here’s your ‘diplomatic resolution’, you balding bastard!” Igguruk snarled, brandishing his spear. The muscular lizardman drove the point into the wall of their invisible cage and was blasted off his scaly feet by the resultant backlash of arcane force.

“Yes, we rather thought you’d say that….” Tirra sighed theatrically as Monrose helped the stunned Saurian up, “Hence the need for us to contain you, until cooler heads can prevail.”

“So, if we agree to let you take this… relic, then we keep everything else and nobody gets killed?” Nathander clarified, wary of some loophole that would justify the Free City adventurers to bushwhack them on their way back to Diamond Lake.

“That’s the deal.”

Nathander looked from one face to the next and saw no sign of treachery. “Naturally, you won’t let us out of the box until we agree?” he added.

“Naturally.” Khellek answered with a bland smile.

“Are you sure we can trust him?” Monrose whispered, “Wizards are a devious breed.”

“Thanks….”

“I didn’t mean you! You’re not really a proper wizard.”

“Thanks….”

After consulting his companions, Nathander agrees to Khellek’s terms. The invisible barriers hemming them in are dropped. Sheepishly, Brunora emerges from her hiding places and rejoins the others. Khellek arches one eyebrow but does not pass comment.

“No funny stuff!” warned Auric, his hand resting on the hilt of the monstrous greatsword strapped across his broad shoulders.

Pausing at the edge of the pit of iron spheres, they greet the ghost of Alastor Land, who thanks them for (eventually) putting his bones to rest.

“I can hear my sister calling me, but she understands that I couldn’t go to her until you came back. She wants me to thank you for saving her from that horrible man. Once I’ve opened the door, my spirit will pass onto the next world and my family will all be together again.”

The spook floats through the sealed portal. Moments later, the entire tomb rumbles as the locking mechanism on the other side whirrs into motion after centuries of neglect. The sealed portal swings inward, revealing a large, cylindrical chamber dominated by a roaring pillar of air. The adventurers must shout to make themselves heard over the howling wind. Along the walls of the chamber, beautiful murals depict a great battle between the elemental forces of good against monsters loyal to the Queen of Chaos.

“This is the battle in which Zosiel was killed!” Khellek exclaims excitedly, following the wall around the circumference of the room, “Look here, this section shows the other Wind Dukes using the Rod of Law to slay Mishka the Wolf Spider!”

Both Auric and Tirra seemed slightly embarrassed by their comrade’s boyish enthusiasm. Monrose yawned and turned to study the swirling patterns of air within the wailing column – just in time to witness a dozen silent guardians emerge from the maelstrom. These Wind Warriors appear as suits of archaic, ceramic armour held together by powerful gusts of wind that constantly buffet the solemn figures. Each guardian readies twin longswords as they advance. Despite their formidable appearance, not one of the warriors makes a sound, for they float just above the floor of the tomb.

[mikeawmids]

(Before returning to the Whispering Cairn, we swapped systems from Barebones Fantasy RPG to Savage Worlds. Barebones is a neat little package, but I could foresee problems running an AP as long as AoW)

Brunora swung her warhammer (AP 2) at the first Wind Warrior, shattering its ceramic shell. Nathander hangs back and casts Bolt, throwing a fireball at another of the cairn’s guardian spirits. It explodes, showering the others with broken pottery. Igguruk tears another warrior apart with his vicious claws. Another Wind Warrior makes it through the front line fighters and lunges at Nathander. Brunora intercepts the attack and destroys his armored assailant before the blow lands.

“A little help here?!” the mage cries, as yet more of the guardians emerge from the wailing pillar.

“We’ve got our own problems!” Tirra snaps, as she and her companions fend off another group of Wind Warriors.

After defeating the sentinels, Khellek establishes that to reach the real resting place of Wind Duke Zosiel, they will have to take a leap of faith and step into the howling column of rushing air, which should *hopefully* carry them up to the next level. Brunora volunteers to go first and enters the rushing current. She is borne skyward on invisible wings, before being gently deposited on a stone shelf overlooking the chamber. A stone sarcophagus (identical to the trapped one Igguruk triggered in the false tomb) lies undisturbed. The rest of the group enter the wind tunnel and join Brunora on the platform. Upon examination, it is discovered that there is no obvious means of opening the Wind Duke’s sarcophagus, it seems to be one solid block of marble. The likeness of Zosiel watches their efforts from its place atop the slab.

“Speak my name, those who would claim my legacy.” The stone figure intones.

“Zosiel!” Khellek answers eagerly.

The lid of the sarcophagus glows brightly, then seems to disappear altogether. Within lie the Wind Duke’s mortal remains, a skeleton clad in ancient, ceremonial armor. A metal circlet rests upon its skull (Zosiel’s Diadem of Wisdom > Wearer increases Smarts by one die type when worn) and its bony fingers clutch a long, pewter box inscribed with unsettling sigils. Khellek squeals with delight when his eyes fall upon this container and he immediately snatches it from the skeleton’s clutches. Everyone cranes to see what all the fuss is about, the box an adamantine loop attached to a long handle. Nobody knows what it does (except for Khellek, but he’s not telling), but that doesn’t stop them guessing until the wizard loses his patience and puts it away. That appears to be it in terms of treasure.

“So we went to all that trouble for a hat that makes you smarter and a novelty back scratcher?” Igguruk roars, frustrated by the lack of epic loot, "Stupid tomb!"

The adventurers part company. Khellek and company return to the Free City with their prize.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that I led you on,” Tirra apologizes to Monrose, “You’re not such a bad guy and I’m glad we were able to work something out. It would have been a shame if Auric had had to kill you. If you ever find yourself in the Free City, look me up.”

The half-orc grunts noncommittally and waits until the elven rogue is out of sight before doing a little dance in the middle of the Emporium’s crowded taproom.

Meanwhile, Igguruk is summoned to an audience with Balabar Smenk, who is less than thrilled with the lizardman’s involvement in the death of one of his oldest friends. Kullen glowers at the Saurian from his place beside Smenk’s chair, he is clearly nursing a grudge against the group for humiliating him at The Feral Dog in front of all his men.

“It wasn’t my fault Filge died,” Igguruk growled, “I seen what happened, one of his own zombies turned on him. Picked him up and smashed his head against the floor like a chocolate orange. How was I supposed to know you and him went way back? It was you that told me to stick with the half-orc, so that’s what I’ve been doing.”

Nathander reports in with his master, hoping that “the smartest man in Diamond Lake” can identify the device Khellek took from the Wind Duke’s tomb. Allustan listens carefully to his apprentice’s description of the object, his expression growing ever more grave as realization dawns.

“Have you ever heard of the Spheres of Annihilation?” Allustan asked, “No? I am hardly surprised, knowledge of such things has passed from living memory and I would have been happier had it stayed that way, but this news troubles me deeply. The spheres were weapons of terrible power, anything that came into contact with one would be utterly destroyed. Tools were crafted that would enable someone to manipulate these spheres without touching them, and the device this ‘Khellek’ character has obtained is just such a tool. What he plans to do with it, I cannot guess, for the remaining spheres have been hidden where no mortal will ever discover them.”

Adding to the wizard’s list of worries, Nathander tells him about the letter he found in Filge’s tower, suggesting the spreading influence of a cult within the environs of Diamond Lake, operating out of the Dourstone Mine. Allustan discusses this with his brother, the Governor-Mayor. They cannot act against Ragnolin Dourstone or Balabar Smenk without evidence that either/both mine managers are up to no good. The Governor-Mayor needs someone (ie: the party) to infiltrate Dourstone Mine and secure proof that the cult presents an immediate threat to the town.

[mikeawmids]

2/12: THREE FACES OF EVIL

Having established their heroic credentials by exploring the Whispering Cairn and ridding Diamond Lake of the depredations of a necromancer, the party are given the task of establishing which of the town’s corrupt mine managers has allowed the seed of heresy to take root within their holdings. Governor-Mayor Neff already has cause to suspect both Balabar Smenk and Ragnolin Dourstone are embroiled in the cult’s nefarious plans, thanks to (circumstantial) evidence that the heroes found in the previous adventure. Brunora has her own reasons for wanting a closer look at the goings-on within Dourstone Mine, as that was the last place her brother was employed prior to his disappearance.

Igguruk is staying at a vermin-infested flophouse behind The Feral Dog. Despite his monstrous appearance and awful table manners, he is popular with the other residents, as the lizardman has developed a taste for raw rat meat and his presence/insatiable appetite keeps the number of rodents to a minimum. Also, the lice cannot penetrate his scaly hide and do not bother him, as they do his itchy neighbours.

Having caught a particularly fat and juicy rat, Igguruk is considering which end to start eating when there is a unnecessarily loud rapping on his door. Rolling his eyes, Igguruk skewers the squealing rodent to the table with a fork and goes to answer it. Kullen and a couple of his goons are waiting on the dingy landing. Several are still sporting bruises from their last encounter with the lizardman and his friends.

“The boss wants to see you.” Kullen said without ceremony.

“I’m eating,” Igguruk growled, baring a mouthful of pointy teeth, “Would you care to join me? I’ve enough rat for everyone.” Several of Smenk’s men grimace, once looks as though he may have been sick in his mouth.

“The boss wants to see you NOW. He said to bring your friends with you. Don’t worry, he just wants to talk.” Kullen spat the last word as though it left a foul taste on his tongue.

Kullen escorts Igguruk and the others to Smenk’s mansion on the outskirts of the town. The old house must have been impressive once, but it has since fallen into disrepair. Damp streaks the walls and a foul smell pervades the stuffy air. This turns out to be because Smenk gives two vicious dire apes the run of the place and neither creature appears to have been potty trained. They shriek and gibber at the heroes as they are led inside.

“I didn’t know your sisters would be here,” Monrose teased Kullen. The albino grinds his teeth but does not otherwise respond to the half-orc’s witticism.

Balabar Smenk receives his guests in a comfortable sitting room. It seems that only those parts of the large manor that he makes regular use of are kept clean and tidy, everything else is left to slowly fall apart. The room reeks of his exotic cologne.

“Ah, thank you for coming. Thank you. Yes, please sit down. Would anyone care for a cigar? I have them delivered all the way from the Free City. It’s a terrible habit, I know – but in my line of work, if it’s smoking that kills you, then you’re doing well.”

Monrose graciously accepts a cigar and slips several more into his coat pocket when he thinks nobody is looking. Igguruk extends his long tongue and licks his, before popping it into his mouth whole and crunching it up. Smenk shudders to see his expensive cigars abused in this fashion, but quickly recovers his false smile.

“I roll my own, thanks.” said Nathander, politely waving away the box. He casts Legerdemain and the cigarette floats across the room and lights itself from the hearth. The smoke from his roll-up is bright green and smells of cinnamon.

“Show off.” Monrose muttered.

“You’re probably wondering why I invited you to join me this morning.” Smenk began, “I admit, we’ve not got off to the best start. Kullen, if you could step outside, my friends and I need to speak privately.”

“But boss…!” the albino protested.

“Now!” Smenk snapped, “Go and muck out the apes or something. Make yourself useful for once, you great, white fool!”

Without another word, Kullen slunk from the room, slamming the door behind him. The look he cast at Igguruk on his way out was could have flensed flesh from bone.

“You must excuse him,” Smenk apologised on his minion’s behalf, “His pride is still bruised from the beating you gave him. A terrible business really. Had I only known that Filge had taken up necromancy I would never have called upon his aid. He was still my friend and I mourn his death, but he had to be stopped before his experiments got out of control. Truly regrettable. I must remember to write a letter to his mother.”

The heroes exchange glances, unsure how much more of this sentimental crap they will have to swallow before Smenk gets to the point of his summons.

“Speaking of letters,” Nathander said, “We found the ones that you sent to Filge. So we know all about the cult.”

“Then you’ll know that I called him to Diamond Lake to help me put a stop to what they’re doing!” Smenk exclaimed, “I would have come forward sooner, but Ragnolin has threatened to kill me unless I keep his dirty little secret. He has installed an elevator within his mine, it descends deep into the earth, to a huge cavern which he called the ‘Dark Cathedral’. Dourstone introduced me to a masked freak, he hoped I could be persuaded to join them. I was terrified, I knew if I said no that I would never be allowed to return to the surface. I agreed to supply them food and tools. There’s nothing wrong with that, surely. I doubt they’re planning to destroy Diamond Lake with potatoes and lamp oil!”

“How often do you make these deliveries?” Nathander asked, “This sounds like a good way for us to get inside the mine without resorting to violence.”

“Oh,” said Igguruk sadly, who had been looking forward to another scrap.

[mikeawmids]

Kullen is scheduled to make a supply run to the Dourstone Mine the next day. The heroes replace the lackeys he would normally use for the grunt work of carting the supplies to the secret elevator. The human guards on the stockade give their papers a cursory examination before waving them through. Clearly they have become accustomed to the coming and going of Smenk’s men. The group is escorted through the mine by a sour-faced overseer called Lordren, whose limping gait necessitates a painstakingly slow pace. The miners avert their eyes as the procession passes; Ragnolin’s overseers have a reputation for cruelty.

“Here we are,” Lordren said, as tunnel opens into a larger cave hewn from the living rock. A deep, black chasm dominates the centre of the room. Suspended over the pit is a wooden platform, a winch mechanism allows this platform to be lowered into the depths of the earth. “Leave the supplies here; we will move them to the lower level ourselves.”

The heroes easily overpower the surprised overseer and board the elevator. The platform rocks alarmingly under their weight. Igguruk must stand in the middle of the platform to avoid tipping it too far in any one direction and spilling everyone else over the edge. The group are discussing making two journeys, when they hear raised voices approaching the elevator room. A group of armed guards appear, led by Ragnolin Dourstone in person.

“Stop them!” the dwarven mine manager roared, snatching a loaded crossbow from the closest guard and firing it down at the escaping heroes. The bolt misses Nathander by a hairs breadth and pins his robe to the wooden boards. Monrose wrenches the bolt out and hustles the mageling into cover, moments before the rest of Ragnolin’s men open fire. Crossbow bolts ricochet of the unwinding length of chain and imbed themselves in the elevator itself. Several are deflected by Brunora’s shield. The elevator builds up speed, having been overloaded beyond its recommended weight limit. A group of cultists gather at the base of the lift shaft to see what all the commotion is about. Igguruk grabs hold of the rushing chain in the hope of controlling their perilous descent, sparks fly as his claws dig into the steel links.

Ten feet from the ground, Monrose and Brunora bail out of the plummeting lift. The half-orc swordsman rolls to his feet and runs his sword through the closest cultist. He withdraws his rapier and slashes the bloodied blade across a second opponent’s torso. The elevator strikes the ground with a crash of splintering wood. Igguruk, Nathander and Kullen are tossed from the wreckage.

[mikeawmids]

Seeing that they are no match for the heroes, the two remaining cultists make a fighting retreat towards a tunnel in the eastern wall of the cavern. Crimson banners flank the dark opening, hanging limp in the still, damp air. Brunora slings her hammer at one of the fleeing zealots and he goes down hard, sliding along the smooth marble floor of the cave. The second cultist escapes, no doubt rushing to warn his fanatical friends.

“What are these things?” Brunora muttered, turning over the fallen cultist with her boot. He looked human, other than a reddish tinge to his complexion and small horns protruding from his temples, “Some manner of demon?”

“Tieflings,” Nathander supplied, dusting himself off, “Some human bloodlines are tainted by the seed of demons. It’s not so rare as you might think – and it’s not just devils either. Some people carry the blood of angels in their veins.”

Kullen sheaths his sword and claims a pair of matching battleaxes from the two cultists that Monrose (so stylishly) killed. “They weren’t so tough,” he sneered.

“You didn’t kill any of them!” Monrose said, wiping his bloodied blade on the tabard of a dead tiefling. It depicted a mailed fist closed around four arrows. “Anyone recognise this symbol? Which god are we about to piss off?”

“That is the emblem of Hextor,” Brunora answered, peering at the gory tabard, “But this is odd… those doors over there are marked with the unholy symbol of Vecna. I’ve never heard of two rival cults sharing a temple. What could have driven them to such an alliance?”

“Oh, great.” muttered Monrose, “As if one angry god wasn’t enough of a headache.”

Nathander kicked the wreckage of the lift platform and craned his head to look back up the dark shaft. He could discern the faintest glimmer of light far above, where Ragnolin Dourstone must surely be engineering some means of reaching them.

“I suppose we’ll have to find another way out of this pit,” he said.

After checking their equipment to ensure nothing was damaged during their violent landing, the heroes venture down the eastern tunnel, in pursuit of the one tiefling who managed to escape. The cultists have had time to prepare their defences while the group dithered in the Dark Cathedral, so the heroes proceed warily, expecting trouble. Nathander summons a wolf, which trots along beside him, tongue lolling from betwixed fanged jaws.

Having established that most projectile weapons seem to bounce off Igguruk’s thick, scaly hide, the party nominate that he should lead the way.

“GRRAGGGHHHH!!!” Igguruk bellows, bursting through the doors of the Hextorite battle-temple. As expected, the cultists respond with a barrage of missile fire. The lizardman trundles forward and knocks several human acolytes off their feet with one sweep of his spiny tail. Nathander’s wolf joins the fray, locking its jaws around an acolytes throat. A trio of tiefling cultists (including the one that scarpered earlier) urge the outmatched acolytes onward, hoping that they will delay the heroes long enough for them to reload their crossbows. Nathander casts Legerdemain to trigger a crossbow early and the tiefling holding it shoots himself in the foot. The other two cultists retreat, drawing the heroes deeper into the battle-temple. They make their stand in a large, open room dominated by a huge, marble statue of their patron deity. A balcony runs around the edge of the room, occupied by yet more crossbow-wielding Hextorite clerics.

Just as the heroes realise that they’ve been drawn into a trap, the heavy stone doors of the arena slam shut behind them.

“Well met!” A tall, greying warrior wearing black chainmail and missing an eye rises from an ornate, stone throne, clapping his mailed hands together in recognition of their combat prowess, “I am Theldrik, High-Priest of this battle-temple. Your deaths will be a glorious spectacle to honour our god! Prepare yourselves!”

Theldrik summons three dire apes into the arena. The Hextorite cultists open fire from the balcony. Brunora’s shield rings with the impact of several bolts aimed at the dwarven cleric. Igguruk takes cover behind the statue of Hextor and returns fire with his crude shortbow. (Igguruk character sheet is geared for melee, but he was the only player to have bothered equipping a ranged weapon). A tiefling tumbles from the upper floor with an arrow sticking out of his head.

Seeing that the heroes are making short work of his summoned monsters, Theldrik calls upon a bigger, meaner specimen (he rolled a raised on his Faith roll, so the dire ape has the Hardy ability) to really ruin their day. The beast roars and beats its chest with ham-sized fists. Nathander casts Bolt and blows a plate-sized hole in the ape’s hairy breast. It dies. The High Priest curses and casts Armour on himself, augmenting his already formidable Toughness (+2 AV).

Monrose finds himself surrounded by the last two dire apes. Kullen leaps to his aid, burying an axe deep into one of the howling brutes. Together, they quickly dispatch the final monster.

“Thanks,” said Monrose, in a rare display of goodwill towards the albino. Kullen just grunts.

Having reduced the number of cultists on the upper level, Igguruk scrambles up the wall of the arena, his claws gouging shallow grooves in the stone. The remaining tieflings move to interpose themselves between the bloodthirsty lizardman and their high priest. Seeing that the reckless Saurian will soon be overwhelmed by axe-wielding zealots, Nathander casts Legerdemain to topple the statue of Hextor. On his first attempt, the statue barely wobbles, but his next casting is more focused and he successfully dislodges it from its pedestal. The statue crashes into the balcony, raining debris across the lower level and crushing a shrieking cultist against the wall, moments before he sunk his weapon into Igguruk’s flank.

“Talk about divine intervention!” Monrose quipped, clapping the mageling on the back. “Lets get up there!”

The heroes begin scrambling up the fallen statue. Igguruk finds himself facing Theldrik, who smashes a heavy flail into the lizardman’s face. The Saurian reels back, almost losing his footing and falling from the balcony. He spits out a pointy tooth and roars his defiance at the Hextorite cleric, bloody saliva splattering the man’s black armour with a pattern of red spots.

[mikeawmids]

Brunora short, stunty legs and heavy gear mean that she has the most difficulty scrambling up the fallen statue. She proves too tempting a target for one Hextorite cultist, who lines up his next shot at the dwarf’s head….

“Look out!” Nathander cried, throwing a fireball at the murderous marksman. The zealot ducks back into cover and when he pops back up, Brunora is waiting for him. *donk*

In such close quarters, Igguruk’s spear proves to be a hindrance and he abandons the weapon in favour of his claws. More tieflings rush to support their high priest against the lizardman, but Monrose intercepts them on route, rather than let them gain the gang up bonus against his scaly friend. Kullen moves up alongside his fellow half-orc and together they hold the balcony against the axe-wielding fanatics. The albino seems remarkably concerned with maintaining Monrose’s well-being….

The cultists are dealt a Joker during the second round, everyone around the table grimaces. Theldrik clobbers Igguruk for one wound and the lizardman rakes his claws across the high priest’s face, leaving three parallel scars.

“You have fought well!” Theldrik commended his wearied opponent, “It’s been a long time since I have had to exert such energy to ensure victory. Alas, that I must finish you now, you would have made an excellent sparring partner. Die well, warrior!”

The high priest swings his heavy flail, building momentum for the fatal blow that will crush Igguruk’s head like a scabby melon. Suddenly, he is speared by a bolt of fire and thrown backwards into his huge, stone chair. Slumped in his throne, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth, Theldrik looked down at the ragged hole that Nathander’s magic has made in his chest. The edges of the wound glow red hot, where his black armour has melted.

“That hardly seems sporting.” Theldrik observed, as his one remaining eyes glazed over in death. (Nathander inflicted 40 points of damage with that attack, resulting in seven wounds. Theldrik soaked three of them, but that still left him incapacitated.)

Igguruk claims the high priest’s heavy flail as the spoils of his (rather dubious) victory. Searching Theldrik’s body, Nathander recovers several sheets of (somewhat scorched) parchment. These documents reveal that the three cults co-inhabiting the Dourstone Mine are working to summon an entity that they (worryingly) refer to only as ‘the Overgod’. To prevent this creature from being given flesh, the group must find and defeat the two remaining cult leaders; Grallak Kur and The Faceless One.

The northern exit from the Dark Cathedral is marked with the symbol of Vecna, an eyeball resting in the palm of a severed hand. Beyond the door, the group find themselves in a maze of tunnels and soon become hopelessly lost. The walls are fashioned from a strange, green rock that not even Brunora is able to identify. Purple veins of some alien ore writhe and pulsate within the living stone.

“I am officially upgrading this dungeon from ‘maze’ to ‘labyrinth',” groused Monrose.

“It’s only a labyrinth if it’s got a minotaur in it,” Nathander corrected.

“Hey!” said Igguruk, “Where’s Kullen gone?”

The albino is nowhere to be found. The party retrace their steps as best they can, but there is no trace of the missing NPC. Soon enough, they hear the clash of steel and Kullen calling for aid against whatever it is that he’s fighting. Igguruk is suspicious, he has known the half-orc longer than anyone else in the group and does not think that the albino’s mulish pride would allow him to cry for help like some sissy elf. Nathander remembers reading about monsters that would mimic human voices to lure their victims into a trap. The heroes proceed with care.

Kullen’s voice leads them to a round, irregular chamber dominated by a stone pillar that generates a soft, green glow. Everyone except Igguruk becomes entranced by its soothing radiance and shuffle into the open, slack-jawed and staring, unable to drag their eyes away from the gently pulsing light. Nothing Igguruk can do will rouse them from this stupor. He slapped Nathander with the back of his scaly hand, to no effect. Something moves in his peripheral vision, Igguruk turns in time to spot three scrawny, bird-like figures raising their crossbows into the firing position.

One of the kenku rogues lobs a flask of alchemists fire into the room. Nathander’s robes catch fire (again, he really needs to consider a less flammable wardrobe), breaking whatever enchantment had held him motionless. Igguruk roars with pain as two crossbolts penetrate his naturally leathery hide, he smacks the nearest kenku with his new flail and the birdman’s fragile bones shatter like glass. Three more kenku emerge from the shadows to distract the heroes while the first group disengage. Brunora heals Nathander, who has taken damage from both flames and crossbow fire. Igguruk has so many bolts sticking out of him that he looks like some angry, prehistoric hedgehog.

Monrose pursues the fleeing kenku and follows them through a secret door into the temple’s inner sanctum. He bids the others join him there, rather than let the kenku pick them apart in the open. The kenku toss another flask of alchemists fire after the retreating heroes, they slam the secret door closed as the bottle explodes. They feel the rush of heat through the portal, but are unharmed by the hungry flames.

(The kenku were the first enemies that the PCs have encountered who fought intelligently and didn’t all just pile in at once. As a result, they did take a bit of a pounding.)

“Barricade that entrance,” suggested Nathander, seeing that they were in some sort of storeroom.

Igguruk piled crates up against the secret door. Brunora noticed how badly the lizardman was bleeding from his many wounds, but he brushed off her concern.

“I can see that some of us are wounded,” Nathander said, “But we must forge on. It’s only a matter of time before those bird men regroup and come after us. We should also try to find Kullen, before something dreadful happens to him.”

Everyone groaned. “Do we have to?”

The group plunge deeper into the (increasingly disturbing) temple of Vecna. Organic eyeballs peer out of the walls as they pass, blinking owlishly in the eerie, purple half-light. They enter a large room supported by four pillars of an oily, black liquid, flowing up. Humanoid figures with within the tar-like substance, caught in the wild throes of either ecstasy of distress. Dripping hands grope blindly for the heroes as they approach. Four cultists of Vecna occupy the room, having been forewarned by the careless kenku rogue who inadvertently led Monrose to the secret door. The two cultists closest to the group raise their arms and project a spray of dazzling rainbow colour from their billowing sleeves. Brunora resists the effects and whacks one wizard over the head with her faithful hammer, crumpling his pointy, wizard’s hat.

(Brunora’s player was quick to realize that there is no downside to making Wild Attacks when you’re facing enemies that rely exclusively on magic and ranged weapons, as neither target your Parry.)

Nathander summons a wolf from the magical animal shelter that all magic users seem to have access to. The vicious animal tears out one wizard’s throat before the others manage to toast it with Burning Hands (Burst power, 2D10 damage unless a successful Agility roll is made to dodge the flames). The Faceless One emerges from his laboratory in the adjacent room and casts Summon a giant, foul-tempered centipede to fight alongside his acolytes. It attacks Monrose, who fails his Vigor save to resist the effects of its poison. Igguruk takes a pot shot at the masked freak, but the arrow bounces off his mage armour. The lizardman drops his bow and leaps onto the back of the giant centipede before it’s gnashing mandibles can do Monrose any further harm.

The Faceless One casts Lightning Bolt at Brunora, who present s the most immediate threat to his continued well-being. The dwarven cleric brings her shield up in time to block the attack, but is still shaken as electricity courses through the dented metal. Realising that the two cultists hanging back are burning Power Points to maintain a load of beneficial buffs on their boss, Nathander targets them with Bolt. When they drop, so does the Armour effect augmenting The Faceless One’s Toughness. Realising that her opponent is vulnerable, Brunora throws her warhammer at the masked sorcerer’s head. Reeling backwards, the Faceless One gestures wildly and a second giant centipede pops into existence, buying the cowardly priest enough time to teleport out of danger.

[mikeawmids]

Searching the Faceless One’s laboratory, the heroes find a four-pack of healing potions that the Vecnan cleric did not have the opportunity to drink or destroy. Even after imbibing them, Monrose still has two wounds and Igguruk has one. The group set watches and rest for the next twelve hours (to recover expended power points). They also find Kullen bound and gagged in a locker in the acolyte’s garrison.

“One moment, please.” Nathander said, closing the door on the struggling albino. Turning to the others, the magician asked, “Are we sure that we want to let him out? His loyalty is to his boss and ultimately, I can’t shake the feeling that Smenk is up to something.”

Igguruk clears his throart and gestures towards Monrose. “Smenk knows there’s a price on his head. He’s planning to collect on it and will want to do so before any vigilantes from the Free City turn up in Diamond Lake, asking around after a one-eyed half-orc in a hideous hat. He won’t want to share the bounty with anyone else.”

“No wonder Kullen’s had my back,” Monrose mused, recalling how fiercely the albino had fought alongside him in the Battle-Temple of Hextor, “Smenk wants to take me alive. I’m of no value to him dead, so he's sent his right hand man to babysit me.”

“We need all the help we can get, even if it is off that pallid grunt,” said Brunora, “Both Monrose and Igguruk are wounded. As long as we know that Kullen will inevitably betray us to Smenk, we stay one step ahead of them.”

The heroes release Kullen and return his equipment – before heading for the final wing of the Dark Cathedral. The eastern tunnel leads into a network of natural caves, dank and unlit. Brands are kindled and the party move into the tunnels, a bubble of flickering torchlight that threatens to burst at any moment, drowning them all in darkness. Brunora leads, as she is the only character with Darkvision. She calls a halt as the group reach the lip of a deep, black chasm. Nathander casts Bolt, but rather than explode, the projectile emits a dull, red glow that dimly illuminates the bottom of the pit, eighty feet below.

“That’s a long way down,” he whistles, taking a cautionary step away from the edge, “I don’t see any steps, so I suppose we’d better turn around and – "

“ – and grow a backbone!” Igguruk jeered.

"Reptile!" Nathander spat.

"Ape!" snarled Igguruk.

“Hush!” snapped Brunora, as Nathander and the lizardman fell to bickering, “We can secure a rope to this outcrop and rappel down the side of the pit. I will go first and the rest of you will follow, one at a time until we have all safely reached the bottom.”

Halfway down the line, Brunora pauses, ears straining. She thought she had heard… something, perhaps a bow string being pulled taught by stealthy fingers. Suddenly, arrows strike off the rocky walls to either side of the rope! Brunora slides down the last thirty feet of rope, ignoring the painful friction burns on her calloused palms. She readies her shield, just in time to deflect another two arrows that would otherwise have hit her torso. Rushing forward, she spots two grimlock warriors retreating through a narrow crevasse in the far wall. The rest of the party descend quickly and regroup at the bottom. They plants a burning torch in the wall besides the rope, so that they can still find their way back to the surface should anything happen to Brunora in the depths of the earth.

Following their quarry through the crevasse in the wall is a tight squeeze, only Nathander is slender enough to wriggle through without first removing a lot of bulky armour. Emerging from the other side, the group find themselves on the brink of yet another (seemingly bottomless) hole, although this one is spanned by a crude, unreliable-looking rope bridge. Brunora and the two half-orcs can see more grimlock warriors lurking on the other side of the chasm. The archers among them lay down suppressing fire, while the bigger, more physical intimidating specimens begin scrambling across the bridge.

Since Nathander can see bugger all, he casts Bolt to shoot off a flare, bathing the immediate area in a dull, blood-red glow. (I allowed this unconventional use of the Bolt power because it sounded cool, although maybe I should not have, as it does sound like the Light/Obscure power would have been a better fit). This also gives the group there first good look at the opposition, they are short, densely muscled wretches with sickly grey skin and empty sockets where there eyes should be. They have patches of coarse, red hair sprouting from their scalps and chests and brandish crude, stone weaponary.

Kullen sank his axe into one of the thick ropes supporting the bridge.

“Stop, you fool!” Nathander cried, “Destroy the crossing and we won't ever foil the Ebon Triad!"

Muttering under his (foul-smelling) breath, the albino wrenched his weapon free and buried it into the skull of the nearest grimlock. (I ruled that the strength of the damaged rope would continue to deteriorate – and break the next time a Joker was dealt during initiative).

Brunora secures her hammer and begins edging across the wildly swaying bridge, she holds her shield up with one hand and clutches the guide rope with the other. Two grimlock archers drop their bows and begin shaking the bridge, hoping to dislodge the tenacious dwarf and send her plunging to her doom. Brunora clings doggedly to the line. Suddenly the rope snaps! Fortunately, it was Brunora who had been dealt the Joker, so she had a +2 trait bonus on the immediate Agility roll required to avoid a long tumble through the dark. (The roll would have been -2 had she dropped her shield, but Brunora’s player insisted on keeping hold of it and made the roll at -4, she still succeeded). Monrose starts across the bridge, followed immediately by Kullen.

“Wait!” Nathander cried, grabbing Igguruk before he can move onto the bridge also, “It won’t support your weight! If you all cross together, the bridge will break! At least wait until Brunora reaches the other side.”

She achieves this soon thereafter and the few remaining grimlocks pull back, hurrying to warn Grallak Kur that intruders from the surface are inbound.

[mikeawmids]

The tunnels spiral deeper into the lightless bowels of the earth. An acrid, smokey smell grows stronger and more pungent the closer they get to the grimlock shaman’s lair. The heroes enter a large cavern, brightly illuminated by a roaring bonfire, the source of the eye-watering smog. (Everyone makes a Smarts roll with a -2 penalty, those who fail succumb to the hallucinogenic, vision-inducing effects of the smoke. Only Monrose’s player failed this roll – which was a surprise, as the group does not consist of many great thinkers).

Monrose’s vision blurs. He blinks them clear and suddenly he is back in Lord Lescoehl’s mansion in the Free City, on the fateful night that he lost an eye dueling with the cuckolded nobleman. Except now his missing eye is back in his head and Lescoehl is missing one of his – a segmented green worm emerges from the vacant socket and gnashes a ring of tiny teeth. The elven aristocrat stands with a contingent of armed bodyguards.

“You cannot prevent this Age of Worms!” Lescoehl snarls – or is the cryptic warning voiced by the verminous green serpent coiled within his skull?

‘This is totally normal!’ Monrose thinks in his drug-addled state, drawing his rapier.

“What are you going to do with that tiny thing?” Lescoehl sneers, readying an ornate, perfectly-balanced broadsword that had probably been in his family for generations.

“It’s not the size that matters,” Monrose replied with an artistic flourish of the slender blade, “It’s what you do with it that counts. You’re wife was not compaining.”

The rest of the party watch in mounting bewilderment as Monrose shouts nonsense at the masked grimlock cultists arrayed around the bonfire. They are wearing featureless bronze masks and wield short, obsidian-tipped spears. The target of Monrose’s misplaced ire is Grallak Kur, the third wheel of the Ebon Triad. The bulbous, unblinking eyes of a Beholder have been sewn into his empty sockets, giving him a (even more) crazed looked.

“Kill the heretics!” Grallak Kur hisses, dancing from one foot to the other, as though in dire need of the lavatory, “Stab them! Bite them! Burn them! KILL THEM!!!”

While the rest of the heroes clash with the masked, grimlock zealots, Grallak Kur casts Invisibility on himself and disappears from sight.

“Come back, you craven fop!” Monrose roared, casting around for his vanished foe.

Unseen hands grabs the half-orc and attempt to shove him into the flames (but rolls a critical failure/snake eyes). Monrose’s hand snaps out and closes around Grallak Kur’s throat, lifting the little grey man off the ground. Monrose still believes he is grappling with Lord Lescoehl. Monrose headbutts the elven nobleman in the face and is gratified to see his handsome face begin to swell with ugly, purple bruises.

“This is for Seraphia!” Monrose yelled, punctuating each cry with another crack of skulls, “This is for my eye! This is for… er….”

Having run out of grievances to settle, Monrose headbutts his old enemy one last time and throws him out of the window. In reality, he launches Grallak Kur into the bonfire. The grimlock shaman squeals with pain as the flames scorch away his grey flesh. Monrose clutches his head and recoils from the burning horror reaching for him from the flames. Instinctively, he punches the flaming apparition in the face, badly burning his own hand in doing so.

With the death of their leader, the rest of the grimlock cultists flee back into the dark tunnels. The entire dungeon trembles ominously, showering the party with a light dusting of rubble.

“Was that us?” Nathander asked.

The heroes head back to the Dark Cathedral. Escaping the grimlock warren is a harrowing ordeal, as the caves are being shaken apart by the increasingly frequent/powerful tremors. Brunora nearly falls when the rope bridge breaks, fortunately she manages to grab hold of Igguruk’s long, scaly tail at the last possible moment.

Staggering back into the enormous, black marble cavern at the base of Ragnolin Dourstone’s secret (and thanks to the heroes, partially demolished) elevator, the group find the Faceless One waiting for them on the edge of the black pool.

“You are too late!” the masked wizard crowed in his curiously effeminate voice, “You have killed Theldrik and Grallak Kur, but in doing so have transferred their power to me! I am now the one remaining master of the Ebon Triad! I should thank you, as now I am free to summon the Ebon Aspect, or Overgod, without having to - ”

Igguruk’s heavy flail collides with the side of his hooded head with enough force to knock it off his shoulders. Blood geysers from the ragged stump, spreading across the surface of the oily liquid in the pool. (Igguruk’s player rolled 51 damage – the highest in the campaign to date).

“Igguruk tires of your voice!” the lizardman sniffed, idly spinning his weapon to shake off some of the gore.

“Hey!” Nathander protested, as a piece of the (very) dead wizard’s brain lands on his lip, “Would you stop that?! Urrgh! I think I’m going to be sick…!” The mageling falls to his knees dry retched into the pool.

“Maybe you should rename yourself the Headless One.” Monrose suggested, giving the decapitated body a shove with his boot and watching it slide into the dark water, “Give our regards to your stupid Overgod. Now, how are we going to get out of here?”

“We could climb the chain.” Kullen said, rolling his broad shoulders.

“Er… guys!” Nathander called, voice quavering.

“Dourstone and his men will be waiting for us at the top.” Brunora replied, “I doubt they’ll have run out of cross-bolts and we’ll be exposed.”

“Guys!” Nathander called again, insistent.

“They might have pulled out of the mine.” Monrose speculated, “Considering how much the ground is shaking, it would be dangerous to stay.”

“Then why we still here?” Igguruk demanded, “Igguruk will climb metal rope, puny human weapons bounce of mighty Saurian!”

“GUYS!”

The rest of the party tuned to see Nathander scrambling away from the pool, moving crabwise on all fours in his desperation to distance himself from the dark water. Something huge rises from the depths of the pool. It emerges, dripping oily slime across the marble floor. It easily stands ten feet tall, powerfully muscled beneath taught, grey. hairless skin. It waves six arms in the air and roars with deafining volume, shaking yet more debris from the roof of the crumbling cavern. Three of its six limbs end in ragged stumps. Turning its gaunt, skeletal face towards the party, the Ebon Aspect bares its fangs, glowing red eyes bulging with murderous rage…!

[mikeawmids]

Monrose lunged at the six-armed giant, driving his rapier deep into its grey flesh – or at least, that was the plan. The blade slides off the Aspect’s pebbled hide, leaving the shallowest of cuts. The Aspect made a sound that might have been laughter, then backhanded the half-orc across the room. Monrose hit a pillar of black marble and slumped at its base (his player had to spend all three of his bennies to avoid incapacitation). The Aspect bared its fangs and started towards the helpless half-orc.

“Hey, ugly! Pick on someone your own size!” A fireball smacked into the side of the Aspect’s head, but the beast’s curious resistance to arcane magic (thanks for that, Vecna) allows it to shrug off the resultant damage. “Not me!” Nathander shrieked as the Aspect changed direction and headed straight at him, “Him! The scaly one! He’s taller than I am!”

“Igguruk not fear puny Overgod!” the Saurian roars, swinging his heavy flail into the Aspect’s path. The monster roared, dislodging several more stalactites from the ceiling of the Dark Cathedral. Kullen covered his head as several large pieces of rock landed distressingly close to where he stood. Brunora ducks beneath the dubious safety of her shield (sure, it’ll deflect the odd rock, but it’s not much of a defense against a hundred tones of falling stone).

Realizing that his magic will not prove effective against this accursed foe, Nathander targeted his next Bolt at the rocks above the Ebon Aspect. A huge, pointed stalactite plunges towards the giant, impaling it to the ground!

“I think he got the point!” Nathander quipped, turning to savor the expressions now plastered across the faces of his companions. Brunora tackled the smug mageling to the ground just as the stalactite hurtled through the space he had occupied not a moment before. Glancing over, Nathander saw that the Aspect had used all six of its arms (well, the four with hands on the end of them) to free itself, then thrown the spear of rock across the chamber! Had it not been for Brunora’s timely intervention, he would have been killed. He tried to lift the rock and hurl it back with Legerdemain, but it proved to be too heavy.

Turning aside, the Aspect stomped over to where Igguruk lay dazed. The half-orc screamed as he was picked up and crushed in the Aspect’s cruel, bone-crushing embrace. It opened its fanged maw and readied to bite off Monrose’s head…. Suddenly, the half-orc drives his rapier through the roof of the beast’s mouth and into its brain! Thrashing its arms wildly, the Aspect drops Monrose to the ground and collapsed back into the oily pit from whence it first emerged.

Brunora rushed to the half-orc’s side and cast Healing, repairing several of his fractured ribs. Despite the cleric’s best efforts, Monrose still looks more than a little worse for wear (two wounds).

“We have got to get out of here!” Nathander called, as yet larger pieces of rubble tumbled from the roof. The entire dungeon is collapsing and the only way out is an arduous climb up an eighty foot chain.

(The players would have had real trouble escaping the mine in their weakened condition, so I threw them a bone.)

“Go on,” Monrose urged the others, coughing up blood across the smooth, marble floor, “Get going! I’ll make my own way out, don’t wait for me!”

“We’re not leaving without you!” Brunora said earnestly.

“We’re not?!?” exclaimed Nathander, then catching her eye, quickly added, “No, of course we’re not. You’d do the same if it were me.”

“Igguruk would not!” Igguruk said, waving his flail “Igguruk would put puny wizard out of misery and escape! Igguruk cannot die in dark, Igguruk have great destiny to fulfill.”

“Look!” Nathander cried, pointing to the pool. The oily liquid bubbled and frothed alarmingly, frothy skull-like shapes forming on the unquiet surface. Suddenly, as though some seal had been broken with the destruction of the Ebon Triad, the water geysers upward and quickly begins to fill the Dark Cathderal.

“Oh, great.” Monrose muttered, as Brunora pulled him away from the rising murk, “I was much happier when I thought we were going to be buried alive.”

“Quick! Everyone onto the elevator platform!” Boarding the shattered wreckage of the lift, the heroes watch the oily tide spread. The platform begins to rise, bobbing from side to side like a raft. “We can ride this thing to the top of the shaft!”

There is a hairy moment when their makeshift raft drifts dangerous close to the rocky wall of the shaft and comes fearfully close to being flipped over. The party reach the top and hop off the platform, just as the oily liquid from below surges over the lip of the pit.

“Run!!!”

The heroes race for the exit, bombarded by rubble as the Dourstone Mine is shaken apart around them. A dwarven miner calls for help, his leg is trapped beneath a fallen beam. Igguruk, Kullen, Monrose and Nathander all run by (the mageling pausing just long enough to apologize for the rudeness of the others), only Brunora stops to help the poor sod pull his foot loose. His leg is a bloody ruin and will not support his weight, so Brunora carries him on her back, falling ever further behind the others. Fortunately, her innate familiarity with mines and tunnels still means that she beats them to the exit.

The dwarven cleric collapses with exhaustion, dropping her charge onto the rocky ground. She has never been so happy to be beneath the sky! The rest of the heroes stagger out of the darkness moments before the entrance comes crashing down, sealing the mine. The miners are in disarray as the one surviving overseer struggles to restore order to the chaos. Igguruk grabs the poor man by the throat and slams him against the stockade.

“Where is your chief?” Igguruk wants to know.

“Agghh! Don’t hurt me, please! I’ll tell you! The boss came barreling out of the mine about fifteen minutes ago, said he was going to the other mine managers for help. I’ve never known him to look so flustered! He was heading for town!”

“Igguruk great detective!” the lizardman roared, tossing the terrified clerk aside, “Igguruk pursue lead! Raagghh!”

[mikeawmids]

The home of Ragnolin Dourstone is smaller, but better kept than the sprawling mansion occupied by Smenk, the only other mine manager whose home the party have visited. There are no guards on the door, which hangs open, treacherously inviting. The dwarven industrialist is waiting for them in the foyer, stood upon a chair with a noose around his thick neck.

“I knew you’d be coming for me,” Dourstone grumbled, checking the knot on his hempen collar, “Soon as the mine started shaking, I knew you’d done for the others. I had hoped you’d be trapped down there, but a part of me knew you’d get out somehow – and here you are. Well, you won’t be taking me alive!”

Dourstone kicks the chair out from beneath him and falls – to the floor. While Brunora kept the dwarf talking, Nathander had used Legerdemain to loosen the knot on the other end of the rope. Igguruk pulls him to his feet and ties his hands behind his back. Dourstone is escorted to the sheriff’s office and locked up until the Governor-Mayor decides what to do with him.

“Where is my brother?” Brunora asked through the bars of his cell, “You employed a dwarf called Brunard Blackflagon, he is my brother. A miner I rescued during the collapse told me that he found out about your secret elevator and disappeared soon after. What have you done with him? Does he live?”

“Since you have denied me my death, I in turn deny you his life,” Dourstone replied, “Your brother knew too much, he should have stuck to mining copper, instead of secrets. Did you think you have destroyed the Ebon Triad? We are everywhere! You have only delayed the ascension of our Overgod and the dawn of the Age of Worms!”

Having dealt with one of the two corrupt mine managers implicated in supporting the doomsday cult, the heroes turn their attention to Balabar Smenk. Like the whipped mutt he is, Kullen returned to his boss’ side soon after his escape from the flooded mine. Several days pass before the albino delivers another invitation to join Smenk at his home. Anticipating treachery, the party arm for bear. This turned out to be a wise precaution, as their (not so gracious) host did indeed mean them harm.

Smenk met the heroes in the main hall, speaking down to them the top of a wide staircase. Crossbow wielding thugs appeared at the balconies overlooking the room. Having been told by Kullen how weakened the party were after their running battle with the Ebon Triad, the mine manager decided to strike while the iron was hot. A sturdy net, weighted with iron rings is dropped over the group and the marksmen open fire on the struggling heroes. Nathander casts Armour and is enveloped in flame, burning a hole through the net! Kullen moves down and Igguruk meets him at the foot of the stairs. Monrose stalks past them, heading straight for Smenk. The mine manager taunts Monrose so severely that the half-orc is shaken by his cruel words. He staggers back from this salvo are verbal abuse and Smenk presses his advantage by releasing his two pet dire apes to savage the half-orc.

(This was the first time I’ve made use of Taunt in combat and it was surprisingly effective, Smenk kept Monrose shaken die to his high Spirit die and the dire apes tore him apart).

While Nathander casts a continuous string of fireballs to keep the men up on the second floor from getting too trigger happy, Brunora prays to her goddess to grant Igguruk the righteous strength to overcome the albino (Boost Trait > Strength). Igguruk wraps the chain from his flail around Kullen’s throat and doesn’t release his grip until the albino goes limp. (I left it ambiguous as to whether Kullen was dead or just unconscious).

The heroes ascend the steps, pull Monrose to his feet (Smenk’s hateful taunting had reduced him to a quivering wreck) and confront the mine manager together.

“You can’t kill me! Do you not know who I am?” Smenk shouted, as the last of his guardians were cut down, “I have powerful friends in the Free City! They’ll hunt you down! Your lives won’t be worth living! I’m Balabar Smeeeeeeaaagghhh!!!”

The mine manager’s tone of outrage turned into a shriek of distress as his hair caught fire. His expensive cologne must have been rather flammable, as the flames quickly spread across his face and upper torso. Nathander steps back, and gestures for Monrose to finish the job. Having already injured his hand once by punching a burning enemy, the half-orc puts the boot in this time instead.

“Didn’t you say smoking was bad for your health?” Monrose asked, as Smenk’s flaming body bounced and rolled down the stairs, “You should have quit when you had the chance.”

[mikeawmids]

3/12: Encounter at Blackwall Keep

(If I were to run AoW again in future, I think I jump from the end of The Whispering Cairn straight to the start of Encounter at Blackwall Keep and miss The Three Faces of Evil out completely. The whole adventure was a tedious slog with little opportunities for roleplaying. There were a few interesting set pieces, but these could easily be lifted from this module and reinserted elsewhere. Actually, I might still use it, but reduce the dungeon to one temple and not bother with the Ebon Aspect.)

Having crushed the cell of Ebon Triad cultists and either killed or captured their conspirators amongst the town’s mine managers, the heroes visit Allustan to discuss the ominous prophecy that they unearthed in the Dark Cathedral. The great wizard has not heard of this ‘Age of Worms’ that the zealots spoke of, but is canny enough to see a pattern emerging. There have been reports of powerful undead creatures roaming the Cairn Hills, their putrid flesh crawling with vile, green worms.

“Yes, I remember now,” Nathander said, digging around in his robes until he found the crumpled letter that they had found in the old observatory, “That was why Smenk summoned the Filge here from the Free City. He had stolen one of these worms from the cult’s sanctum and wanted the necromancer to investigate its curious properties.”

“Where is this specimen now?” Allustan asked.

The heroes did not know, they hadn’t found it during their initial foray into the necromancer’s lair. On Allustan’s suggestion, they returned to the old observatory (boarded up by the Governor-Mayor’s men after it became apparent an evil wizard had been squatting there) and made a thorough search through Filge’s macabre belongings. They find the worm floating in a jar of alchemical preservative.

“Is it alive or dead?” Monrose asked, tapping the glass.

“Don’t do that,” Nathander said absently, peering at the specimen through a dusty magnifying lens he had found on Filge’s desk, “How fascinating! It’s like no creature I’ve ever seen. The colour is unusual, certainly – but look at the segmented body and those rings of tiny teeth.”

“I’d rather not look at it at all,” muttered Brunora, turning away, “Whatever that thing is, it is an abomination against all that is good in this world.”

“The Emporium serves a drink with a little worm floating in it,” Monrose added, unhelpfully.

“I would not recommend that you imbibe the contents of this bottle,” Nathander replied, carefully securing the vessel in his leather satchel, “Come on, we’ve got what we came for. Let’s get back to Allustan.”

Returning to the wizard’s residence, Nathander handed the worm over to his master for further study. A few days later, the group returned to the tower and Allustan explained the results of his investigation (using big words, for Igguruk’s benefit).

“The specimen that you recovered from the necromancer’s laboratory was neither alive, nor dead,” he said, “It lay in a dormant state, waiting for the right conditions to awaken and act. Please observe.”

On the table waited the jar from Filge’s lab, a pair of thick, leather gloves and a cage holding a large, bored looking rat. Allustan pulled the gloves on before opening the clear container in which the worm floated. The wizard withdrew the creature using a pair of long, metal tongs and carefully dropped it through the bars of the rodent’s cage. Immediately – as though detecting its proximity to living flesh - the worm began to twitch and writhe. The rat flew into a fearful panic and quivered wretchedly as far from the creature as possible.

“As you can see, the specimen is drawn towards living creatures,” Allustan commentated as the worm edged closer to the rat, “It exhibits some sort of rudimentary life-sense. Now, attend closely to this next bit, it really is rather fascinating!”

Trapped in one corner of the small cage, the rat had nowhere to go as the crawling horror squirmed ever closer. Suddenly, the worm lunged and burrowed into the rat’s warm flesh. The rodent rolled around its squalid cell, squealing and thrashing like a thing possessed – then suddenly went limp. The group craned closer for a better look.

“Waste of a good rat,” Igguruk sniffed, who had missed breakfast that morning.

Before their eyes, the motionless rat began to change. Its coarse, brown hair fell free in ragged clumps, revealing diseased-looking green flesh and its claws elongated into jagged talons. Perhaps most gruesome of all, writhing, worm-like protrusions erupted from the rodent’s sunken eye sockets. The foul rat-thing made a liquid, retching sound, then its lower jaw dropped off, spilling a puddle of tiny, green larva (each no larger than a single grain of rice) onto the floor of the cage.

“Well, that’s just about the most awful thing I’ve ever seen,” Monrose said, looking decidedly queasy.

“If you’re going to be sick, please use the bucket I thoughtfully provided for just such an occurrence,” Allustan said absently, his attention transfixed on the horrible transformation, “Did you notice how quickly all that happened? The incubation period for these curious creatures can be measured in mere minutes! I’ve never witnessed anything like it. But as astounding as all this is from a purely academic perspective, we cannot ignore the threat these creatures present to the wider world.

“Once, many years ago, I myself was apprenticed to a great wizard called Manzarian – just as young Nathander here is now apprenticed to me. Manzarian trained two other apprentices, each of them now as powerful as I; Eligos and [name?]. I must consult with my peers regarding this ‘Age of Worms’. If a branch of the Ebon Triad is active in the Free City and possesses the means to breed and provide hosts for more of these green worms, then they present a terrible threat to every living thing on this world!”

[mikeawmids]

(I checked and the other wizard's name is Marzena - and the master is ManzOrian).

[mikeawmids]

Allustan did not know where to find Eligos, as the two wizards had not been in contact for many years, each embroiled in their own arcane pursuits. However, he had recently received correspondence from Marzena, who had been posted to Blackwall Keep on the edge of the Mistmarsh, not three days away astride a swift horse. Unfortunately, none of the characters had bothered with the Riding skill. Allustan hired a cart and the heroes piled into the back, while the grumbling wizard took the reins. The journey south was uneventful*, although Igguruk had to be reminded several times that the horses were not for eating.

* The Random Encounter rules in Savage Worlds work like this, for every day/night of travel in unsettled lands, the GM draws a card from the deck, if it’s a face card or higher (Jack > Queen > King > Ace) then the group has encountered something, the nature of the encounter is dependent on the suit that card is from (Spades, Hearts, Diamonds, Clubs). Duriong this journey (between Diamond Lake and Blackwall Keep), no face cards were drawn.

“It is strange that we have not encountered any patrols on the road,” Allustan observed warily, a few hours before they were due to reach the fortress, “Marzena mentioned in her letter that the area was closely watched to prevent groups of raiding lizardfolk slipping into the settled lands to the north.”

The reason for the lack of patrols soon became apparent. The men of Blackwall Keep had more pressing concerns. A large group of ferocious, warlike lizardfolk had surrounded the lonely hill fort and the human soldiers were trapped within their own walls. The party hid their cart in a copse of dense foliage away from the road and surveyed the battlefield with dismay (all except Igguruk, who seemed perversely excited by the prospect of imminent bloodshed).

The group discuss how to make their presence known to the beleaguered men of Blackwall, without advertising their location to the army of lizardfolk camped on their doorstep. Allustan can make himself invisible, but the spell won’t effect the whole party. Instead, Nathander casts Summon Ally to call forth a (small) phoenix*, to carry a letter to the fort’s commander.

* Nathander has the fire trapping on his magic and would normally use Summon Ally to summon fiery wolves into combat, but this was also deemed to be an acceptable use of the same power. The Savage Worlds magic system is all about flexibility and the creative use of trappings.

Unfortunately, the lizardfolk have made a point of shooting any birds flying to/from the keep (to prevent the soldiers trapped inside summoning reinforcements) and it’s not long before they take notice of the mageling’s magical courier. A group of lizardfolk stealthily approach the patch of scrubby trees in which the party are hiding. Even though they attack with The Drop (+4 to attack/damage rolls during the surprise round, the players rolled abominably on their Notice checks), the lizardfolk botch their ambush and the heroes quickly dispatch them. Igguruk recognises the tattoos painted onto the scales of the dead lizardfolk, they belonged to the Twisted Branch tribe.

“Igguruk once painted his scales with this symbol,” the burly lizardman said, gesturing with one clawed hand to the corpses at his (also clawed) feet, “Many kills ago, Igguruk was champion of Twisted Branch.”

“Oh, well that’s good, right?” Nathander replied enthusiastically, “You can catch up with your old friends… and maybe ask them to stop attacking the keep.”

“They will not listen to Igguruk,” said Igguruk, perhaps a little sadly, “Igguruk was cast out of the tribe. Igguruk challenged leader, King Shukak for command. King Shukak has drunk deep of dragon’s blood and gained terrible strength. Igguruk lost and was banished from the Mistmarsh.”

“So you got your scaly ass handed to you,” Monrose summarised, “And now your old tribe wants to kill you.”

“We should move,” Brunora suggested, “This patrol is going to be missed.”

Nathander reads the last letter from the keep. It states that the party will be admitted if they can draw the lizardmen away from the walls long enough to get the gate open. Nathander casts Legerdemain on their cart to drive it remotely with magic. They prop one of the dead lizardfolk on the driver’s bench. Nathander cracks the reins and the horses burst into a gallop, erupting from the undergrowth and careening wildly across the battlefield. The lizardfolk clustered around the gatehouse take the bait and lumber after the unmanned cart. The heroes scramble up the hill and quickly overcome the token force left to guard the entrance. The men within winch up the iron portcullis and the party finally slip inside Blackwall Keep.

Tension escalates when the soldiers notice that the group have only gone and let a bloody lizardman tailgate them inside. One co-operative Persuasion roll later and the nervous troops are sufficiently mollified not to execute Igguruk.

“Where is Marzena?” Allustan asked, after introductions had been exchanged, “We have travelled far and have pressing need of her counsel.”

“Taken - or dead,” replied the commander of the garrison, a gruff veteran called Captain Colm, “I imagine one is much the same as the other. She and several of my men were captured when we first engaged those scaly brutes. Some of our scouts tracked them a ways into the Mistmarsh, but had to turn back before they ventured too far into the lizardfolk’s land. Not all of the rangers that I sent out have returned. Those men who did come back all said the same thing; the prisoners have been taken to the Foetid Grotto.”

[mikeawmids]

Allustan reads from his scroll of teleportation and returns to Diamond Lake to rouse the militia into action, although it will be three/four days before Blackwall Keep can expect reinforcements. The heroes remain to stop the lizardfolk capturing the fortress in the meantime.

The next day, a thick fog rolls in, shrouding the keep in murky shadows. The world beyond the walls seems completely silent and empty, although the men know that the lizardfolk must still be out there. Up on the battlements, Monrose holds his arm out and can barely discern the outline of his own hand through the swirling mist. Nathander casts Detect Arcana and identifies that the blanketing murk did not settle upon them naturally.

A leathery, flapping sound breaks the brooding silence. Winged silhouettes swoop down towards the battlements; only at the last moment are they identifiable as large, predatory pterodactyls. Lizardfolk warriors vault from the backs of these prehistoric birds and drop amongst the startled men of the Blackwall garrison! One particularly mean looking brute rolls to his feet beside Brunora and snarls menacingly, the dwarven cleric calmly swings her warhammer into the underside of his scaly jaw and sends him reeling backwards over the low, stone parapet. Two more gang up on Monrose and a fourth clobbers Nathander for five wounds, although the young wizard is able to soak two of them. Initially, the lizardfolk mistake Igguruk for one of their own, he takes advantage of their poor judgment to cosmetically alter one warrior’s face with his heavy flail.

Another squad of pterodactyl-riding lizardfolk drop into the fray. Having revealed his true colors, Igguruk finds himself being mobbed. He takes six wounds, but rolls well enough on his soak roll to reduce that to two. Unfortunately, doing so exhausted all of his bennies and the lizardman spends the next few rounds trying to recover from being shaken. Nathander hurls a handful of fireballs after the winged reptiles, two are struck and spiral out of control; one disappears into the fog, the other smashes into the side of the keep. Monrose is dealt two Jokers in a row, so everyone in the party is awarded an extra two bennies, finally Igguruk can act! Brunora implores her goddess to heal Nathander’s injuries but rolls snake-eyes (a critical failure), evidently her patron’s attention is elsewhere.

(After this combat, Igguruk’s player realized that he was severely handicapping himself in combat by sticking with the heavy flail he took from Theldrik. It requires two hands to wield and imposes a -1 penalty on his Parry. Were he to use a battleaxe and a shield (like the lizardfolk the group just fought do), he would do the same damage and increase his Parry from 6 to 8, making him much harder to hit.)

The heroes finish off the last of the lizardman, but there is no time to rest! The sturdy, iron portcullis buckles inward as something immensely strong hits it from the other side. Igguruk forces a path through the terrified soldiers to stand before the gate – just as it crashes open and an armored stegosaurus barrels through the twisted wreckage. A lizardman stands astride the thunder lizard’s broad, scaly back, glaring down disdainfully at the puny humans as their resolve frays.

“Kushak!!!” Igguruk bellowed, moving to stand alone before the mighty beast.

“Who is this traitor that fights alongside the hated softskins?” the mounted warrior retorted, “No!! Is it Igguruk – former champion of the Twisted Branch tribe - who challenges me? King Shukak has declared you dead!”

“Igguruk lives!” roared Igguruk, perhaps a little unnecessarily.

“But not for long!” snapped Kushak, brandishing his enormous, obsidian-tipped axe.

The stegosaurus trundles forward at its master’s command. Igguruk charges to meet it! He slides beneath the dinosaur’s spiny tail as it sweeps his way and chops its head off with a single blow*! Kushak leaps from the back of the (now headless) brute and engages Igguruk in an epic duel. It becomes slightly less epic after about three rounds and neither combatant has done much more than shake the other one. Caring little for Igguruk’s personal honor, the rest of the party pile in and beat Kushak into submission.

* Igguruk inflicted 23 damage on that roll, which doesn’t come close to the record for this campaign, but was still enough to beat the stegosaurus’ Toughness 13 (2) – and then some.

Since Igguruk spared Kushak’s life, the GM decides to use him as a vehicle for some blatant story exposition.

“Why are the Twisted Branch tribe attacking the human’s stone tent?” Igguruk demanded.

“The humans have doomed our tribe!” Kushak answered, his head slung low with the shame of defeat, “As well you know, our women lay eggs only once every ten years. The last clutch of eggs were corrupted by a human weapon, when our young hatched, they were already dead, their little bodies riddled with green worms!”

“Preposterous!” Captain Colm stated with certainty, “Our orders have always been to restrict the movement of lizardfolk beyond the boundaries of the Mistmarsh, never to interfere with your breeding cycle. To even contemplate the murder of infants – even lizardfolk infants – is too monstrous for words!”

“Who told you that the humans were responsible for this atrocity?” Brunora asked.

“King Shukak and his ally, the black dragon Ilthane told us that our young were slaughtered by humans from the Free City, who wished to drive our race into extinction,” answered Kushak, “The dragon protects us now and has left one of her own eggs with those of the tribe.”

“Know this, Kushak!” growled Igguruk, “The humans may be weak and delicious, but they did not kill our younglings. Igguruk will return to the Foetid Grove and learn the truth of this matter, even if I must beat the truth out of Shukak and his pet dragon!”

Brunora treats the group’s injuries and they rest just long enough for the spellcasters to recover their Power Points before setting out into the Mistmarsh. Kushak accompanies them as a guide although Igguruk remembers the way well enough. The swamp is a vast and trackless mire, dotted with patches of sucking muck and plagued by buzzing, biting insects. Every now and then, they spot statues amongst the tangled bracken, victims of the elusive cockatrices that live within the swamp. Again, cards are drawn to establish if the party encounter anything/anyone on their way to the Foetid Grotto. The GM draws the Jack of Hearts, indicating a run-in with a group of NPCs.

The heroes encounter a group of scouts from the Mud Rock tribe and are escorted to their lair to explain their mission to the chieftain. Although Igguruk is the only character without the Persuasion skill, the lizardfolk will not listen to anyone else speak, so Brunora casts Boost Trait [Persuasion] so that he won’t have to make the roll unskilled (-2).

“Mud Rock tribe may be weak and sickly, but together we can defeat King Shukak! Igguruk will be new king of the Twisted Branch! Igguruk will remember your help and perhaps not break your menfolk and steal your women! This is good deal, yes?”

The party are summarily escorted from the Mud Rock lands and advised to find another route on their return journey. The rest of the heroes count themselves lucky to have escaped alive after Igguruk’s horrendously ill-judged bash at diplomacy.

[mikeawmids]

(Player characters have now reached Seasoned rank, opening a wealth of new opportunities for character development.)

Although Igguruk well remembers the roundabout route through the Mistmarsh to reach the Foetid Grotto, Kushak’s takes point due to his familiarity with the lizardfolk patrols. The lair of the Twisted Branch tribe is a large island of tangled mangroves growing around one enormous and obviously dead tree. Pterodactyls circle overhead (although none appear to have riders).

The grotto’s isolation and natural defences mean the overconfident lizardfolk have not stationed guards at the concealed entrance, which would have been a nightmare to find had not two members of the party already known exactly where it was. The inside of the dead tree towering over them has been hollowed out. Sturdy mushrooms sprout from the rotting wood at regular intervals, forming a staircase that spirals up to the top of the tree. The branches off the dead trunk are wide enough for two grown men to walk abreast and the topmost of these have been claimed by the pterodactyl matriarch for her nest. Mummy dinosaur thinks the heroes are there to steal her eggs and squawks loudly, summoning other pterodactyls to aid her in the defence of their hatchlings.

Nathander casts Bolt, inadvertently setting the nest on fire. This spontaneous act of arson does nothing to improve mummy dinosaur’s opinion of the group.

“I have mine sunny side up!” Igguruk announced, licking his scaly chops and eyeing the pterodactyl eggs hungrily.

Brunora throws her hammer into mummy dinosaur’s face, twisting her beak and leaving her stunned. Igguruk finishes the job by hacking off one wing and booting her out of the tree. She flaps about comically for a bit before crashing into the distant ground. With the death of their matriarch, the other pterodactyls flee. The heroes rescue the dinosaur eggs from the burning nest – as who doesn’t want a pet pterodactyl? Evidently Igguruk doesn’t - he would much rather have an omelette.
Suddenly, Nathander remembers the baby Owlbear, all alone in the abandoned mine office outside Diamond Lake, utterly forgotten and neglected until this moment (which is why Allustan never let him have a familiar).

“Did anyone feed the owlbear before we left?” the mageling asked.

”I’m sure that it’ll be fine,” Monrose said reassuringly, without clarifying exactly how leaving a ravenous and unsupervised owlbear near a densely populated and ill-defended community could possibly be fine.

“We must move swiftly now!” Kushak said, “The smoke from this fire will be visible for miles, every patrol that sees it will be returning to defend the grotto.”

Glancing down the fungal stair, Brunora spots a group of lizardfolk ascending the hollow tree. They look pretty pissed. Nathander casts Barrier and blocks their path with a wall of fire. The first two lizardfolk bull through the sheet of flame; one emerges from the other side a blackened skeleton wearing a somewhat surprised expression, the second is only shaken. The lucky lizard doesn’t have much time to celebrate his good fortune - as a moment later, Monrose skewers him on the point of his rapier.

The other two lizardfolk head back the way they came, calling for reinforcements. Igguruk and Kushak leap through Nathander’s fiery barrier and give chase. Fortunately, neither took any damage. A moment later, Monrose goes after them. He is not so lucky, and spends the next few rounds trying to save his smouldering hat.

“Why do I bother creating a barrier if everyone is going to ignore it?!” Nathander cried in dismay. Brunora only shrugged.

Descending the tree, the party explore more of the Foetid Grotto. They pass through a number of messy lizard lairs but encounter no further resistance.

“You’d think they would have tidied up at least.” Nathander said dismissively, kicking over a pile of human skulls that had been stacked haphazardly in the middle of a room, “I mean, come on – how can anyone live like this, really?”

The group do find three of the missing men from the Blackwall Keep, bound securely with creepers in one corner of the grotto. The captives are grateful for their freedom and although they are weak and malnourished, they agree to take up arms against the lizardfolk. They do not know where Marzena is being kept, although last they saw of her, she was still alive.

Kushak leads the group to the Shukak’s throne room. The lizardman king is an intimidating opponent, almost half as tall again as mighty Igguruk. His scales are black and acidic slime dribbles from the corner of his toothy maw. He rises from his throne of large animal bones as the heroes enter his domain, brandishing a fearsome trident in one clawed fist. The lizardfolk king is attended by the tribe’s shaman Hiska and six of his own warriors.

“Shukak!” Igguruk roared, “Igguruk Bloodclaw returns to finish what he started! Send away the guards you hide behind and face me!”

”Igguruk! How many times must I kill you?”” Shukak roared right back, “Hiska, you said he died of his wounds! We will discuss that later – now help me kill these soft-skinned fools!”

Igguruk and Kushak cut a bloody swath through Shukak’s bodyguards to reach the scaly monarch. Igguruk turns to ward off another of the king’s guards and Shukak takes the opportunity to lunge at his old rival, poised to plunge his trident through Igguruk’s heart.

“Igguruk, look out!” cried Kushak. The lizardman moved to push his old friend out of harms way and is impaled on Shukak’s trident in his stead!

“Nooooooooo!” Igguruk has no time to mourn his friend, King Shukak presses his advantage and drives his opponent back. Shukak opens his mouth and spews a cone of acid at Igguruk’s face. Igguruk rolls out of the way and notices the acid has burnt right through his sturdy stegosaurus scale shield.

“Another gift from the dragon?” Igguruk guessed.

“Mighty and wise Ilthane has chosen me to be her champion!” Shukak answered, advancing confidently, “She has given me the strength to unite the Mistmarsh and wage war on the puny humans in their Free City. They delivered doom upon our people when they killed out young, we will return the favour and slaughter them to the last man, woman and child.”

“The dragon lies to you!” Igguruk snarled, blocking another thrust of the king’s bloody spear, “The humans did not do this terrible thing! Ilthane seeks to kindle strife between our people and theirs.”

“What is the matter with that?” Shukar laughed, “Since when did Igguruk Bloodclaw cringe away from bloody work? The humans are weak, while we are strong! I do not care if they killed out hatchlings or not, Ilthane provides the opportunity to destroy their city and I will see it toppled to the last stone!”

Still on the backfoot, Igguruk edged away from Shukak, unable to find an opening in the lizard king’s defence. Unable to take his eyes off his opponent, he tripped over the body of a fallen guard and sprawled helplessly, Shukak towering over him, the trident that claimed Kushak’s life poised to end his own.

“This time, you will not return to vex me further,” Shukak smiled, acid dripping from his fangs. Suddenly, the king staggered away, clutching his head. The shaman Hiska stood behind him, heavy staff clutched in ageing claws.

“Long have I suspected the dragon did not hold our people’s best interests close to her black heart,” the decrepit lizardman said, turning on his king, “Shukak, my old eyes may be failing me, but now I see all too clearly how Ilthane has twisted you against your own tribe. You would see the last of us slain in a pointless war with the humans - and this I cannot abide.”

“Treacherous priest!” Shukar growled, knocking the shaman’s staff out of his hands as easily as one would disarm a child, “If you would defend the humans, then you will die as one of them!”

Shukak thrust his trident through the helpless shaman’s chest, with enough force to drive the point out of his back. Coughing up blood, Hiska reached out and grabbed a hold of his murderer. To Shukak’s dismay, thick vines sprouted from the dying shaman’s body and begin to wrap themselves around his body, preventing him from pulling his weapon free.

“I would rather die with the humans, than fight alongside you.”

Igguruk stood and retrieved his weapons. Shukak watched him rise but was unable to free himself from the entangling vines growing from Hishka’s corpse.

“Igguruk finishes what he starts!” Igguruk roars, cleaving Shukak’s head from his shoulders. Black blood spurts from the stump of the lizard king’s neck, “Igguruk new king of the Twisted Branch!”

[mikeawmids]

Igguruk addresses his new subjects, who respond to the change in management with scaly indifference. Here comes the new boss, same as the old boss. The heroes rescue Marzena from (former King) Shukak’s den, her fingers and jaw had been broken to prevent her using her magic. She thanks the party for saving her and looks forward to catching up with Allustan (once her jaw has healed).

Since the party have already done enough to earn Ilthane’s ire, they decide to take custody of the dragon egg that she left with the lizardfolk, which they can hold to ransom if the beast comes looking for them. The egg chamber is accessed via a flooded tunnel from the throne room. It is guarded by a group of eight draconic kobolds, bigger and meaner than normal. They share enough attributes with Shukak (sleek, black scales & acid-dripping chops) that the party suspect some affiliation with Ilthane. This suspicion is reinforced when the kobolds refuse to let them pass, saying that they only answer to King Shukak. They do not respond well to the news of Shukak’s death.

The heroes easily defeat the draconic kobolds. They find a treasure chest containing four healing potions. As nobody was injured in the fighting, these are saved for later. The egg chamber is partially flooded, beneath the water cluster hundreds of small, leathery eggs, each one about the size of a tennis ball. The dragon’s egg is much larger than anyone anticipated, it is only marginally smaller than Brunora is tall. Igguruk carefully carries it back to Blackwall Keep. He tells his subjects that he is embarking on a diplomatic mission of great importance and that they should be safe from Ilthane’s wrath as long as he has the dragon’s egg.

By the time the party leave the Mistmarsh, Allustan has returned with the reinforcements from Diamond Lake. He and Nathander examine the black dragon’s egg. Allustan is convinced that there is nothing living within, though faint sounds of movement can be heard if one presses their ear against the shell….. Monrose leans closer to listen – suddenly, the shell cracks open and a swarm of tiny, green worms engulf the half-orc’s head! More spill from the broken egg and puddle on the floor, squirming towards the other members of the party. Igguruk begins stamping on them with his great, scaly feet, while Nathander scrambles up onto a chair like a scared little girl. Realising that their physical violence is achieving little against the swarm, the cowardly mageling pulls himself together long enough to hose the worms with arcane fire!

Having eradicated the wormswarm, the heroes surmise that Ilthane must have been responsible for slaughtering the last clutch of lizardfolk eggs and had planned to do it again. Nathander suggests that Igguruk send some of the dead worms and a fragment of the dragon egg back to the Foetid Grotto as proof of the dragon’s treachery. Once Marzena is able to speak, she tells Allustan that she has never heard of any ‘Age of Worms’, but she can tell the party where to find Eligos the Sage. To the Free City!!!

[mikeawmids]

4/12: Hall of Harsh Reflections

Travelling from Blacwall Keep to the Free City takes five days. The journey is more eventful than usual, thanks to three face cards (and a Joker!) being drawn from the encounter deck. On the second day, the party meet a gnomish tinker pulled up beside the trail. He warns the heroes that the road ahead is plagued with bandits and suggests that they all travel together. With the imminent threat of a black dragon’s wrath hanging over them, the heroes are not particularly worried about brigands in the bushes, but Brunora convinces the others to cut the poor tinker some slack. The grateful gnomish entrepreneur introduces himself as Peteppo.

Sure enough, the very next day, the heroes encounter the aforementioned ruffians. A group of desperate, dirty outlaws pop up from behind a fallen tree that blocks the road. The heroes make short work of the highwaymen, those that are not wounded/killed outright in the first two rounds suddenly remember that they have pressing business elsewhere. Suddenly, Nathander voices a warning – one particularly wilful bandit (probably the leader) regains his feet and lunges for Monrose, dagger plunging towards the sweet spot between the unsuspecting half-orc’s shoulder blades. Without warning, the bandit chief is thrown forcefully from his feet, twin crossbolts embedded in his chest. Everyone turns to stare at Peteppo, who smiles sheepishly from his place atop the wagon.

“Gnomish ingenuity,” he commented, stowing his curious, dual-firing crossbow back beneath the seat, “I tend to have a lot of time on our hands.”

While rolling the dead brigands off the road, the party catch a fleeting glimpse of something huge and vaguely humanoid watching them through the trees. Those with the keenest eyes are certain it was an ogre, but Peteppo laughs at the notion, insisting it was probably just a large bear. The heroes decide to double the watch that night, just to be on the safe side. There is no further excitement that evening, although the heroes cannot shake the creeping sensation of being watched.

The following evening, Peteppo prepares supper again – the party would usually rotate that responsibility amongst themselves, with each subsequent meal generally being even more horrible than the last. The gnome at least knows his way around a cookpot. One by one, the heroes begin to feel very, very sleepy. Nathander is the first to succumb, nodding off before he has eaten half the contents of his bowl.

“You betrayed uzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.” Brunora yawned, falling sideways off her log.

Igguruk’s strong constitution allows him to resist the effects longest, he lurches towards the diminutive poisoner, claws outstretched towards his fragile neck - but Peteppo had made sure to double the dose in the lizard king’s helping (Igguruk made his Vigor roll at -4 instead of -2).

Lovely birdsong rouses the heroes the following morning, but they are in no mood to enjoy it. Other than being drugged, no further harm has come to any of them, neither of their possessions been tampered with. In fact, the only thing missing – is Monrose. Peteppo (if that was even his real name) has left his wagon, but the ponies are gone. The tracks continue down the road towards the walls of the Free City.

(short post while I’m at work)

[mikeawmids]

(Monrose’s player missed a couple of sessions, so I kidnapped him so that his character would not be underfoot. He returned to the game towards the end of this module.)

The remaining heroes continue on towards the Free City, but catch no sight of the treacherous gnome or his prisoner before reaching the gates. They do notice some unusual tracks though, something large and barefooted loped along parallel to the missing ponies until they came within sight of the walls.

The guards on the gate lower their halberds menacingly as the group approach. The lizardfolk of the Mistmarsh have long raided the human holdings beyond the limits of the swampy demesne and the sight of King Igguruk in all his scaly majesty throws the men-at-arms into quite the tizzy. A Persuasion roll is required to convince the soldiers that Igguruk is not planning to storm their walls and ruin their womenfolk. They do charge him an extortionate sum for a travel permit, allowing him to traverse the Free City without further persecution. None of the gate guards recall having admitted either a gnome or a half-orc to the city that morning.

With no immediate leads to follow up on, the party ask for directions The Crooked House, a taphouse/tavern which came highly recommended by Marzena. They find it huddled in an older part of the city, a district named Midnight’s Muddle. The entire building has been built at odd angles and looks as though it could collapse at any moment. Nathander moves to open the door, thinks better of it and motions for Brunora to precede him inside; ladies first and all that jazz. She directs a withering glare towards the cowardly wizard as she passes, unconvinced by his show of apparent gentility. Inside, a garishly dressed gnome capers over to greet them.

”Welcome! Welcome to The Crooked House! My name is Tarquin, the proprietor – and how can I help you today?”

Igguruk growls menacingly at the little fellow, baring his fangs.

”Please excuse him,” Brunora apologised on the lizardman’s behalf, ”The last gnome we encountered poisoned our soup and kidnapped one of our friends.”

After smoothing things over, Brunora arranges the group’s lodgings. Nathander leaves to visit Eligos the Sage, while Brunora and Igguruk try to determine Monrose’s fate. Neither have the Streetwise skill, so the investigation soon grinds to a standstill. However, Brunora hears a wild-eyed street prophet ranting about the ‘Age of Worms’.

"Listen to me, you children of the Free City, and hear the doom that builds before your blind eyes. You in your house of gold and you in your hovel of mud and even you in your mail of metal, none of you are safe from the doom, from the Age of Worms. Oh yes, it is coming! Have you not heard the dead dragons roar? Have you not smelled the rot festering under your very nose? Have you not dreamt of the worm that walks, bringing decay to all he touches? Fools, you are all fools! Your doom is upon you! The end is in sight and none of you shall be spared. Decay is the future and the future is here!"

Brunora questions the man further, but he only gibbers like a spastic monkey and runs off. She tries to follow, but the combination of crowds, unfamiliar streets and her own stunted legs allow him the maniac to escape with his secrets.

Meanwhile, Nathander meets with Eligos the Sage, who promises to divert all his attention to the unravelling of this tangled mystery. He will send his man Pollard to The Crooked House once he has more information to share with the group. On his way back to the inn, Nathander is stopped by a pair of guards - before he knows what is happening, they have popped a sack over his head and dragged him into an alleyway!

(Anyone familiar with this adventure will know that not everyone is who they seem to be, I gave Nathander's player - and all player's whose characters share a similar fate - a benny for being a good sport and playing along.)

Brunora and Igguruk grow restless and concerned when Nathander has still not returned by supper time. Just before they decide to head to Eligos' house and ask after their absent friend, he saunters in off the street. He explains that his business with the sage took longer than expected and apologises for worrying them unnecessarily.

Two nights later and the heroes are no closer to finding Monrose, neither have they received word from Eligos. Tired and dispirited, Nathander makes his excuses and heads upstairs to bed. Brunora cannot concentrate on her prayers in the bustling taproom and heads to her own room also, while Igguruk challenges all comers to an arm-wrestling competition. Half an hour later, the dwarven cleric returns to the common room, approaches the bar and stabs Tarquin in the chest (!) before darting back upstairs. A couple of off-duty guards who had been sharing a corner booth leap to their feet and give chase.

A non-descript man loitering near the top of the stairs points to Brunora's room and said; "She went in there!"

"Thankyou, concerned citizen!" one of the guards replied, as his two buddies kicked open the door and burst inside, swords drawn, "Dwarf! You are under arrest!"

Brunora rolls wel enough on her Persuasion check (with a -4 penalty) that the guards do not clap her in irons, but they do firmly insist that she accompany them to the station to answer some questions. Brunora agrees to go with them, but stops to heal Tarquin's wound before being escorted from the establishment. Igguruk is not intelligent enough to piece together what really happened and Nathander seems uncharacteristically disinterested in probing the mystery to deeply (not that Igguruk notices any difference). At the watch tower, Brunora is relieved of her weapons/armour and thrown into cell. When her captors return, they do not have any question, only a sack - which they pop over her head.

Some time later, Brunora returns to The Crooked House and tells the others that her innocence has been established and the guards released her without charge. She also announces that she overheard some of the other prisoners talking about a one-eyed half-orc being held by bounty hunters at an old warehouse on the waterfront. Nathander and Brunora both seem eager that Igguruk should accompany them to this Sodden Hold. The street entrance is unlocked. The heroes creep through a maze of crates and barrels, until they reach a door. Nathander and Brunora allow Igguruk to go first. When the lizardman tries the handles, he triggers a pitfall trap beneath his scaly feet and plunges into the darkness below the Sodden Hold!!