#24 - Reemergence

Wounded, the PCs regrouped on the open plains under the sky. It was a dry, brown-and-gray landscape with scrub brush the only flora, but after all this time underground and possibly in the upper reaches of Khyber, it was good to breath fresh air—particularly for Magnus and Cyzicus, whose wilder upbringings demanded open space.

It was still dark, and harder to discern their location in this new land. By now they assumed—given the presence of gnolls and harpies—that they were in Droaam, the "monster" nation in western Khorvaire across the border from Breland. A dangerous realm, to be sure. But they still didn't know where precisely in Droaam. To the north were mountains; to the west, east, and south, open plains.

Where to go next? They had recovered the strange, serpentine longbow that the woman had carried—the woman who helped them escape from the pit in the watchtower but was herself now gone, possibly captured.

The only landmark at this point was the firelight of a nearby camp just beyond the first of the foothills. Upon seeking it out, even cautiously, they encountered a lone gnoll who rode upon a warg—an intelligent, evil wolf as large as the dire variety. The two immediately attacked. The lone "patrol" was defeated, but not before dealing a few more wounds to the PCs.

Too wounded to investigate the camp, they set out instead to find a safe place to rest for the night. Giving the firelight a wide berth, they went north into the foothills of the mountains, searching for water and shelter. They found a thin mountain stream and cleaned up as best they could in the dark—particularly to mask their scent—then continued to wander on, and up, until they found a place far enough away that they felt safe from being tracked.

They spent the night uneventfully, needing the rest badly. In the morning, with daylight and an overcast sky, they surveyed the land. The gray mountains rose tall above them. Vague winged shapes that were not birds haunted these peaks, seen from only a great distance. On the eastern horizon was the glimmer of water—the sea or perhaps a large lake? To the south, the plains stretched on. They could discern two separate structures, fortresses or citadels: one southwest, one southeast. The PCs decided their course while Cyzicus went off to forge, though the shifter didn't have much luck.

At last, they decided to head to the southeastern castle, whatever it was. As they neared the bottom of the hills, they spied the gnolls again. They were a large group, but they were splitting into two. The PCs decided to follow the small caravan of gnolls that headed eastward, but they waited several hours so as not to be seen (even from the air, in case there were harpies). It also appeared that this group had some sort of captive. The gnolls were also traveling by day, which is unusual as they can see quite well in the dark.

When a safe enough distance was placed between them, the PCs set out after them, easily following their tracks—until it got dark and they had to use Doongul's forgelight spell to look more closely. After marching for hours, halfway through the night, they caught up the gnolls. Who had awaited in ambush. At least some of them.

The husk of a ankheg lay across the ground, and beneath it, an unconscious gnoll who looked to be dead. There were several holes in the ground from where the large insect-beasts had burrowed up from the ground. But if the holes were fakes, they sure looked real...yet it was from these narrow ditches that the gnolls launched their attack. Two archers rose up from three holes and looses their arrows upon the PCs, while a second warg and another gnoll captain charged out of the darkness.

Once again, the PCs prevailed, after taking more wounds and burning through some of their spells. Just when things quieted down, they went to search the ankheg holes, to see if there were any more enemies, or perhaps some loot.

There were more gnolls—at least in one of them. Just as Doongul and Rendar peered down the furthest hole, forgelight held out, they heard a guttural chanting coming from below.

Then a column of fire blazed down from above and engulfed them.

#23 - Shrouds and Songs

As told by Rendar d'Torrn, a bounty hunter of House Tharashk

With the beast down, we were able to take a moment and evaluate.  Cyzicus and I recovered some gnoll arrows, while Xoma set right to work cutting off the eyes and mandibles from the "under-beast"—what we have come to recognize as an umber hulk. If those grisly items come in handy later, he can gloat about it then; I still say they're not very practical.  Cyzicus also inspected the arrow that was loosed from above upon the beast, as it was a most unusual design, with spiraling, serpentine carvings. Unfortunately we could not recover the arrow, as it seemed to be dissolving as we inspected it. It would not be useful. 

Magnus and Doongul had the right idea, though—they spotted moonlight through a window some fifty feet or more above us. I gave them my grappling hook, and they set about using it and Halbazar's rope to get us out of here.  I took up a position at the mouth of the cavern, so as to spot any more gnolls who would hinder our escape.

As I took up my position, I heard the sound of the grappling hook hitting the ground. I glanced back and could see Magnus, rope in hand like he was climbing, and the grappling hook on the ground beside him. Before I could fault my barbarian friend for impatience, I could hear the others conversing with a woman high up about the ledge where they were throwing the grappling hook.  She spoke just loudly enough for us to hear, like she didn't want anyone else to eavesdrop. My companions just called as loudly as they could, calling her to let us up.  

Doongul switched positions and hurled the grappling hook up again, and this time the unidentified woman unhooked it!  She asked who it was that she would be letting up. I returned to my companions and we introduced ourselves. I could see she was a thin woman, with what seemed to be a pale green skin, almost like a half-orc but she was far too slender. She did not believe us when we said we came out of the tomb of the orc, and believed even less our tale of being teleported from Paluur Draal. She asked if we found any treasures in our exploits.  Xoma mentioned the vampiric-smoke decanter, and a few other trinkets were mentioned, but then she cited something called "the goblins' key."

I never should have set foot in that tavern—the Bookmark. Serving coffee instead of proper ale, books lining the walls instead of trophies and weapons. Bah! That key has been nothing but trouble. But as much as I would like to be rid of it, we cannot risk releasing it to those who serve the Dragon Below. Cypher snuck the real key off of his neck while we bargained with the decoy. We tossed it up and after  brief inspection, the woman tossed down a rope-ladder bridge to us and said to hurry, before the "shrouds" came.

A brief glance back the way we came and there was a figure there. Ghostly almost, silent, in the shape a man, but not quite. Wrapped in a black death shroud, no discernible eyes or face. We began climbing the rope bridge. Halbazar climbed at the rear with me, manacled, but not offering resistance. Perhaps our luck had changed.  

Our luck hadn't changed. We heard the sounds of a struggle above us, and a female scream. Then a gnoll appeared, and we knew we weren't getting out without a fight. Severely disadvantaged on the rope, we fought our way up, while more shades appeared behind us. Xoma quickly used his thunder spell, the force of which seemed to break one of the gnolls against the rock wall behind it. Unable to fire my longbow, I threw a hand axe up at the gnoll, but without much success.  Magnus scrambled to the top, and I could hear him raging, and a gnoll fell past us into the pit. Cyzicus also climbed up and began attacking the gnolls. Xoma attempted to stab one of the humanoids in the foot with his dagger, and then climbed over, only to be knocked back off. Cypher was able to catch him just in time, but was forced to drop one of the pieces of armor we collected in the process. Maybe we can go back to collect it....

Not likely. More shades were coming. I slashed at them with my scimitar, but it was doing little at best.  It took Xoma's magic Cypher's touch, and Doongul's spells to obliterate them. Then I heard singing up above, reverberating across the stone walls of the hollow tower we were emerging into. Haunting and beautiful and not necessarily a bad thing. It almost inspired.

When I managed to get to the top, I could see Magnus and Cyzicus had dealt with the nearby gnolls, but Cyzicus was acting...strange. He advanced on the gnolls calmly and what appeared to be an old woman with wings at the opposite end of the chamber, near another exit (Magnus was standing in the doorway of the near one) but he did not attack them. It was clear this bird-woman was working with the gnolls, he wasn't loosing his arrows, what was he doing?  Everyone else managed to get up out of the pit but not in time to stop Cyzicus from disappearing out the other door with the winged woman. A harpy! The source of the beatific singing, with a face uglier than Khyber.

Magnus charged on the gnolls as and felled one, but the other gnoll brought down Magnus with a hard swing of his axe. With Doongul too far away to help Magnus, we then heard Cyzicus scream in pain beyond the open doorway. Xoma managed to get close enough to Magnus to use the vampiric cloud-potion to revive Magnus. Bursting outside, we found Cyzicus had wised up to the harpy's tricks and was fighting her—though she'd already torn ribbons of flesh off him. 

After the harpy and her gnolls were dead, we took stock of where we were. It seemed to be an old watchtower, which had fallen into disrepair. Xoma and Cypher decided to walk through the inside again, to see if we could get that armor back. I walked along outside the south of the tower, while Cyzicus went along the north. Magnus and Doongul stayed where they were.

As Xoma and Cypher got about halfway through the tower, more shades began silently floating up to them.  The pair ran for the far exit, and as they exited, it seemed the shades could not. Tempting fate (no, that's too kind—mooning fate and yelling “Nyah nyah, can't touch this!” is more like it), the pair attacked the shades.  The shades then stepped from the tower and fought back. Magnus ran through the tower to flank the four shades, and as Cyzicus and I rounded the corner to see the fight, we jumped in and lent our aid. Doongul was no where to be seen. His peg leg really slows him down.  

We thought we could make quick work of the shades, but four more rose from the pit. Magnus was no longer two against one (which if they were flesh and bone opponents, I'm sure he could have handled easily) bu six against one. Even a barbarian cannot stand against such foes, especially a half dozen incorporeal, ghastly shades, against whom normal weapons such as swords and maces didn't do well.  

As Magnus made for the other exit, Cyzicus disengaged from the shades we were fighting, perhaps thinking we had everything under control, but likely not wanting to lose any more arrows. Cypher infused my scimitar with some sort of power, and ran after Cyzicus.

Magnus had made it out of the tower, and was rounding the north face, passing Doongul and the manacled Halbazar in the process. I feared the battle would be over before the dwarf got there with his undead-burning spells, but I was unable to land a hit on the shades. Xoma and Doongul put the remainder of the original four shades down with their spells, and we ran after Cyzicus and Cypher.  

As he ranged further, Cypher spotted a bow on the ground.  It looked to be a weapon that could have shot the spiraled arrow we saw in the umber hulk, as it was adorned with serpentine carvings and spirals. Magnus said he'd seen shapes flying off in this southern direction, and so we set off in that direction, giving chase, but also just relishing being in the fresh air again.

It was evening, with the gray moon Barrakas full in the sky, and to the north we could see the light of a camp beyond a low hill. Also in the north, difficult to see in the darkness, loomed the silhouette of mountains. We didn't know where we were just yet.

#22 - Passages and Eyes

Scribblings of a Warforged Scholar On Adventure 

While the party healed and I repaired myself, I took some time to instruct Xoma on the ancient language of the dar. It was very nice to have someone interested in academics, as opposed to mere treasure and glory. In fact, this was such a good time that I made a note to learn a few new languages myself once I've returned to a place of study.

When everyone awoke from the slumber that most living creatures require, I prepared to solve the problem of the spiked pit. All lights were extinguished and I used the Emperor’s Key to command the tomb doors to open once again. They did so with a bit of noise, making me feel uneasy, though nothing amiss occurred. Xoma whispered that he saw a crude barricade erected at the far end of the hallway, atop the pit, and it seemed there may be a tuft of gnoll hair peeking out from the top.  Doongul noted that there was something not quite right about the ceiling above the pit but Xoma climbed down anyway.

The Emperor's Key medallion

He was supposed to signal the rest of us to come follow him by producing a burst of magical fire. However, in a few minutes, he returned and described a trap he had discovered. I detached my new armbow and followed him down, readying my tools and a torch. This is why I was constructed! I was forged for trapfinding, not war. The trap itself turned out to be a simple pressure plate system. I decided that it was better to jam the mechanism—whose full dimensions I could not discern in the darkness—than to disable it outright. Using two daggers that Xoma had been hiding, I carefully jammed the trap at its furthest seam and waited. After just a few seconds, I heard the telltale sounds of a mechanism engaging and then the ceiling broke apart like crumbling dirt. Organic vines shot down from the ceiling! I managed to dodge the vines but Xoma was not so skillful. The drow was summarily hanged by the neck and pulled upward, drawn as high as floor’s original level, thirty feet above the spikes!

As I regained my composure, an arrow pierced the composite plating in my side. The missile originated somewhere by the rudimentary barricade. I tried to spy the aggressor but there was nothing to see there; the torch could not pierce the darkness at this distance. To offset this tactical disadvantage, I hurled the torch up and out towards the barricade, interpolating the distance from how far I had  walked in the pit and where the gnolls were seen previously. The torch landed some distance beyond the crude barrier, silhouetting two creatures I deduced to be gnolls.


Several of the party members immediately made use of the light source and lay siege to the aggressors.  Unfortunately, the gnolls chose an advantageous perch with excellent cover, despite the improvised nature of their barricade. The silhouette effect enabled several of my party members to take aim but they were at a significant disadvantage, especially through the forest of vines now hanging between both parties. Even the hairy Reacher Cyzicus was unable to strike his target, no doubt more upset about the lost munitions than the miss. After dislodging the crude gnoll arrow from my corpus, sensing several droplets of precious alchemical fluid seeping out of the breach in my plating, I realized the severity of my position in the pit, and the even more precarious situation that Xoma faced against these foes. With a well practiced thought, I infused myself with a trace of arcane power and sensed the now familiar feeling of a bolt of pure energy discharging from the middle digit of my right hand. I didn't bother to follow the force missile’s path to its target and instead hurried back towards the near end of the pit; years of study and the past week’s practicum ensure the magic missile will find it’s mark.

After a satisfying "yip!" issued from the targeted gnoll, the far end of the hallway went dark again and the gnoll attacks ceased for the moment. The magic missile had more than the usual effect. My companions began to regroup down in the pit now as the drow disensnared himself. He evoked magical darkness about the far ledge of the pit and the party began making its way up the wall via ropes and grappling hooks thrown by Doongul and Xoma. Upon connecting his hook, Cyzicus wasted no time in reaching the top, shrouding himself in the darkness, followed by Rendar, Doongul, Magnus, and Xoma. It was a curious site to watch the one-legged dwarf shimmy up a rope. They made short work of the three gnolls who waited there. Cyzicus eviscerated one with his scimitar and Magnus sent a spear through the other. With a great deal of yipping, the third ran off down one of the passages. Fifteen arrows and two longbows were recovered and I was hoisted up the rope along with Halbazar, who had been far more compliant since the trip through the portal.

I followed the party down the middle of three cave passages, pursuing the gnoll that fled. I could sense that the air was becoming fresher, perhaps leading out of this cumbersome subterrane. A swarm of bats flew past quite suddenly, startled by something more than mere gnolls. The passage soon ended in a small cavern with a single, prone gnoll. He was severely damaged, one of his arms hacked away and the gnoll himself visibly shaken. He hardly responded to the party’s presence. Apparently our enemies have an enemy of their own.

Two new gnolls suddenly flanked us from behind and, in broken Common, demanded an explanation for our presence and the sad state of their compatriot. Why they did not attack us was unclear. Perhaps they preferred diplomacy to violence, a welcome change in my opinion.  Far too much blood has been spilled on this adventure. One of them asked something about an "under-beast." As Rendar began discourse with the leader, something happened in the cavern.

Entering through one earthen wall was an extremely large, bipedal insectoid that I had never seen before. Bulkier than an insect, possessing a carapace, massive claws, a set of mandibles, and strange eyes, it appeared to be a formidable foe. My companions closest to the creature unleashed their heavy arsenal. Doongul called forth a powerful blow of invisible thunder from the deity Onatar but it proved to have minimal effect. The drow set a magical web upon the creature. This was a new spell he recently studied; I couldn't help but appreciate the wizard’s dedication to the sciences of the arcane. The creature immediately broke free, however, and advanced on Xoma. It was at this point that I got a better, more studied look at the insectoid, at its abnormally placed four eyes...strange eyes...fascinating orbs with a capacity to...confuse?...no, infuse certainty into one's actions...?

...and so I realized suddenly that Rendar had been deceived by the “diplomacy” of the gnolls!

I grabbed the first weapon I could find—my sling, a simple weapon of rapid rotation and release—and launched a bullet at my enemy. A direct hit on the gnoll's forehead. Hah! He hadn't been expecting my initiative, giving me the upper hand in the exchange and him a crack to his skull and immediate sanguine leak. This taught him to mess with a trained scout of Boranel’s-own Construct Engineering Brigade. Rendar finished the job with curious exasperation, perhaps flustered by his misinterpretation of who the true enemies were. I slung another bullet at the second gnoll, who I now realized should have been everyone’s primary target all along!

Yet Xoma, Magnus, and Doongul continued to engage the hulking insect. Foolish! That was not our enemy! Worse, I saw Magnus, that barbarian dolt, turn his formidable bone-spiked mace on Xoma. Why did he do this? In response, the wizard cast an illusion of dazzling blue lights at Magnus and the hulking creature. Had my companions completely lost the capacity for rational thought? Why wouldn't they attack the gnoll aggressors? It seemed I would have to handle this myself.

Between me and Rendar the first gnoll was now disabled, but the second fled—a fact which may prove troublesome later. When I turned back towards the cavern, I saw Rendar—he'd better watch himself—had joined the fight against the insectoid. A previously unseen cloaked figure fired an arrow into the carapace of the creature from high above at the top of the cavern, spurting acid from the breach. I wondered if Cyzicus would like those arrows for his bow.

As I attempted to understand the tactics of this battle, I looked back into the four eyes of the creature and clarity overtook me again! Now that the gnolls had been beaten, this insectoid was the priority threat! I swung my sling again with carefully honed skill, and sent a bullet at the hulk. It lodged directly into one of its great eyes! Boranel would have been proud.

Rendar was finally able to finish off the strange creature after Xoma cast an effective spell of enfeeblement, weakening the monster. The Tharashk half-orc expertly fired an arrow directly into another eye, permanently disabling the creature—as testified by its crashing to the ground. Victory at last but uncertainty gripped me once again. What had it been that those gnolls had been saying?  What was this beast we just defeated?  And who was the cloaked figure?  Things seemed so much simpler during the battle...

#21 - Tunnel and Tomb

Here the narrative is picked up by the shifter Cyzicus of the Eldeen, a Loreguard ranger.

* * *

Now that my companions and I have found a place of shelter, there is enough time to reflect on our situation and how we came to be here. 

As we raced away from the bone bridge, we were gratified to hear the effects of Xoma’s summoning of magical darkness—the sound of some of our pursuers hurtling down to the giant worms in the moat below. Rendar and I half-carried, half-pushed Halbazar down the corridor towards the glowing door ahead, while Magnus and Doongul noted that the ghoul pack trailed us by a scant 30 feet. The length of the corridor seemed to contract, then to expand, as some magical force assaulted our senses like a sudden attack of vertigo, causing Rendar and Cypher to lose their balance and crash to the floor. Perhaps the druidic teachings of my master, Koruun, helped me, or perhaps my luck ran true this time, but I was unfazed, and easily able to assist Rendar. Xoma did the same for Cypher.

The door seemed to be made of brass or iron, not bronze as it had appeared from a distance, and was covered with glowing, crystal panels. Rendar and I quickly realized opening it would be best left to those with knowledge of the mystic arts, and we moved back down the corridor to face our pursuers as Cypher and Xoma moved up to the door. Although Halbazar offered us no aid in our flight, at least now he was content to stand near the door without hindering anyone. Perhaps his recent wounds made him docile. It both saddens and angers me that this is the best we can hope from our comrade under whatever malevolent influence now controls him.

Magnus and Rendar moved to hold the corridor against the onslaught, while Doongul invoked the power of Onatar to repel one of the foul creatures, and I took a position giving me a clear line of fire with my crossbow. We sought to focus our attacks to bring the ghouls down one by one, and use their corpses as a barrier against them, but they easily clambered over the fallen to close with Magnus and Rendar. Magnus took a couple of wounds, but was unfazed by the ghouls’ paralytic touch. We would manage to return at least five there number to true death before the combat was over.

Cypher tried the Emperor’s Key to get the door open—to no avail, perhaps because it didn’t appear to be the work of the Dhakaani hobgoblins. Next, Cypher drew on one of those skills of his that are simply beyond my ken to analyze the door’s properties. He divined that it needed some form of arcane energy to open, though he was not able to figure out the exact variety. This led to a flurry of spellcasting as he and the drow did their best to unleash every type of magic they had at their disposal. Finally, Xoma resorted to the bottle containing the vampiric cloud, and, with a laugh, opened it. The cloud drew life energy from Cypher, bestowed it on Xoma, and incidentally provided the necromantic energy the door needed to open.

Xoma took a look inside the chamber, reporting it contained six sarcophagi, double doors opposite our entrance, and a strange figure in the center.  The figure appeared to be a statue, wrapped in something that could not yet be discerned.

At this point, the rest of us spotted one of those nasty blade-fingered creatures approaching and realized we’d best withdraw immediately. I continued to fire bolts while retreating toward the newly opened tomb. Cypher brought the lightning-bolt wand into play, incinerating one of the ghouls, but exhausting the device’s charges once and for all. Eventually we all made it into the tomb, with Magnus and Rendar the last to enter. 

They attempted to close the door, but met with resistance from the oncoming undead. I joined them in the contest, and together we managed to slam it shut, severing some of the bladed claws of our foe. Then the door that had been so solid during our struggle, immediately disappeared, to be replaced by a new, darkened passageway empty of foes.

Meanwhile, Cypher and Xoma had found that the double doors were goblinoid work, and had a tomb seal on them, indicating that we had somehow popped up inside the tomb in question. Cypher again employed the Emperor’s Key, and as the doors opened, he and Xoma spotted two hyena-headed humanoids that we identified as gnolls forty feet down yet another corridor. Before the gnolls could do aught but utter a few yips, the length of the corridor opened up below their feet, dropping them onto spikes thirty feet below.

Cypher and Xoma heard barking noises and noted that the passage extended sixty feet, all of which was now completely open to the spikes below, before giving way into caverns from which more gnolls appeared and opened fire with bows. We quickly closed the doors, and I happily retrieved a couple of gnoll arrows for my own use.

As we examined the tomb more closely, Doongul observed that the stonework was crude, orcish work. The strange, central figure proved to be the corpse of an orc wrapped in petrified vines. My training with the Gatekeepers of the Eldeen led me to believe this orc had been punished for some crime, and that the vines binding him had been directed by druidic magic. The stone sarcophagi most likely contained guardians to watch over the orc’s imprisonment. I advised the others that it would be best not to disturb anything, but that we would not incur the guardian’s wrath by resting here.

We all agreed it was time for a rest, and with no threats arising from the open passage thus far, this looked like the best spot we were likely to find for some time.

As we settle in, there is one stray detail that may be worthy of note. All of the ghouls we fought from the cavern of the green worms were elves clad in rags that indicated they originated from Valenar. I have no idea why Valenar elves would mount an expedition to Paluur Draal, but the question may bear further consideration.

#20 - Sarcophagi and Skeletal Devices

Continuing with the story, as told by Magnus, Seren Barbarian and Bringer of Fire.

Rope.

We needed a rope bridge to cross the moat full of crawlies. Just one touch from one of those things had left me limp as Halbazar’s brain. And now there were dozens of them down there, trapped by the slippery walls, which was good for us. So far.

Luckily, Rendar had a handle on the situation and used Hal’s rope to rig up a bridge. It wasn’t long before Cyzicus crawled across, then me and then big and clanky. In the meantime, Xoma left us to explore the snake sculpture and the crypts.

Once we were all together, Xoma called out to let us know where he was out there in the dark. We formed up and made our way around the big skeletal snake coil and found Xoma talking (!?) to the hobgoblin-vampire mist, which had returned, and was apparently not attacking him. We sort of gathered around for a minute and spent some time saying things to the mist, nothing happened. It moved around a bit, but that’s it.

Cyzicus stayed put to keep an eye on the mist, which was keeping a misty vigil on us. The rest of the group turned to inspect the sculpture of bones, which really looked a lot like a couatl's skeleton. The couatls were lost long ago when they sacrificed themselves in the binding of great demons. Or something like that. This is more evidence that this whole mess is older and bigger than any of us.

Anyway, Cypher and the others were trying to see what the skeleton had to offer, and Xoma suggested doing a little lighted search of the area. I went with him with my lantern. It wasn’t long till we found that lots of the sarcophagi were strewn all across the floor of this great chasm, and Xoma suggested we open one up.

I wasn’t about to let some new stinking corpse attack us without letting the gang know what was coming, though. Rendar came over to see it through. After a few false starts, Xoma and I moved a sarcophagus lid a few inches and were rewarded by an awful smell and some flailing tongue slithering out at us. I tried to get the lid back on but the thing inside was too fast and strong.

The lid was shoved aside and two dead elves attacked us, staying inside their crypt. Rendar killed one ghoul outright with his swords, Doongal cast some spell that burned the other one and then Xoma hit the whole thing with his thunderbolt.  All dead (again).

In the meantime, Cypher discovered that the couatl sculpture was some kind of magic mechanism, maybe transportation? But he didn’t see how to work it. With nothing much here, we decided to make out way across the floor to the glowing windows. We soon noticed that the one of the windows had a figure in it. Size, large. As we started to walk, we saw even more figures appear in the windows. Then, what seemed like a door opened up and lots of large man-shapes started charging us. The mist moved toward them and was lost in the dark. We started to think that getting out of here was a good idea. I took a careful look and I’m pretty sure we were facing about ten of the things. That is, until the crypts started to open up and disgorge more of the living dead.

It was definitely time to go.

We all ran back into the bone sculpture. The brains went inside to try to start it up and Rendar, Cyzicus and I set up to watch the opening/door. This was going to be bad. Lots of baddies headed our way in the dark.
Xoma started feeding some hill giant skulls under Cypher’s direction. It wasn’t long before Xoma started feeding them blood. That seemed to work. The writing on the skulls gave us some ideas about where we could go and we argued for a few seconds about which to use, settling on the "western mountains," hopefully! The baddies were getting close and Xoma told us all to bleed (a lot!) into one particular skull.

A glowing mist too shape in its eyes and spread throughout the couatl's spine and then the bone bridge re-formed.  But the other side was different from the dark passage we had left: there were ever-bright torches and some light at the end of the tunnel, for instance.

The baddies were getting much too close, time to RUN.

And run we did, out of there, chased close by the HORDE of rasping, quiet dead, including more of those long-fingernail-killers from before. As we crossed the bridge, Xoma cast a darkness spell to try to slow the bad guys and keep them from crossing the bridge.. hopeful to the end. We fled headlong into the unknown…..

#19 - Bridges and Bones

Too deep underground to tell.


Bridges of defiled bones...
Motes of cavernous carrion carriers...
Disturbing hobgoblin vampires...
Yet too deep to tell or care...

A tale of woe and foes by Doongul "Ironfoot" Soronath, dwarven warrior-healer of Onatar, Sovereign of Fire and Forge. Long lost dwarf of Soranathhold, cornerstone of the Hoarfrost Mountains and all the Mror Holds themselves. Doongul, brother and protector to the late Aeol “Master-Hammer” Soronath lost during the great battle of Cliffs Edge by Cyran scum and warforged fools who knew not who they were dealing with.

If it was not for the foolishness of our brave, “yet touched in the head” Captain Argun and the luck of the great forge of Onatar, I would be standing on one fine leg to tell you this tale.

So let me start off by saying my traveling companion and friend Magnus the barbarian needs to stay off the smelling salts and take to rehabilitation. Stop dreaming of dragons and fire as he is not going to find what he's looking for anywhere deep in these stinking holes built by other races that would be better served with dwarven influence and expertise…. Ugh…

Ahh, so where was I…. Ahh yes… we looked around the slime left in the pit of acidic doom left by our "friend," the dying Khyber Cube. Why was he our friends say ye… well let me say now, that corrosive cube was holding a rather powerful hobgoblin undead nasty. In the name of Onatar, the only good that has come out of this mess is the finding of the magnificently useless magical plate mail that our black elf plucked off the bottom… as well as a pretty, mithral symbol of the Silver Flame that will need to be studied at another moment. Although I am not currently in the best graces of this elf Xoma, he has proved himself a good ally and equally difficult foe. Deep in my heart, I feel there is something unholy and twisted within the elf, that a few smiting hits of my Onatar-blessed hammer “Aeol” might just set straight―however, he is on our side so I will just keep both eyes and one leg on him.



Magnus―chivalrous, battle-scarred, siege weapon of a barbarian that he is―rolled forward and asked me to open the other glass door… Looking to my left I see Xoma squeezing his bony, sinewy body into a ridiculously tight crevice in the rocks… Crazy elf… even with half sense he should have known better. You would never see a respectable dwarf doing such a thing.

In short time the group reformed and moved forward down a corridor… With the dark elf, Xoma in the lead we slowly made our way out to a balcony of sorts. We all stood in awe of an enormous, cavernous room before us. It felt nothing like the halls of my kin. This place was the work of something worse even than the orcs of Jhorash'Tal in the Hoarfrost Mountains. In the distance we saw red square-shaped forms as well as a 12-foot bone sculpture of a snake, a twisted macabre sight. This room reeked of unholy filth, mumbled Cyzicus.

In front of us stood a bridge of tightly-packed bones reaching across an equally tricky moat of carrion bate. A stench that cannot be described rose from the moat. Rot, old and new. Dead things that had better stay dead. Upon further investigation Cypher and Xoma notice magical glyphs upon the stone edges of the bone bridge―not unlike the one the warforged saw back in the "bone closet." With much debate from our group, I moved across the bridge with one leg. "I best not fall in," is all I could think. The walls of the moat proved to be supernaturally slick. Much like Halbazar's grease spell.

I scrambled to the other side with Xoma, Rendar, and Halbazar the Useless right behind me. Just as we reached the other side, who showed up but the same bony hobgoblin! Unfortunately, Cypher’s back was turned to the creature, who attacked in typical gutless fashion. Aye, but this time our party is out for blood ―or at least hobgoblin bones. Magnus attacked in barbarian fashion, making the dead goblinoid drop his weapon, in an all-out killer-undead-vs.-half-witted-injured-barbarian brawl―a fairer fight! Luckily for Magnus, our party rained holy vengeance upon the creature. Just when we had the wretched creature where we wanted him he managed to scramble across bridge and activate the glyph on the far side. The bridge of bones fell apart.

I watch in disgust as Rendar “Wyvernslayer” and his leashed dog Halbazar fell almost forty feet into a crumble of bones and filth.  Magnus and Xoma succeeded in leaping back onto the balcony, leaving me alone with the hobgoblin―with its fangs and inability to die properly, how can it not be a vampire?―on the far side. Smiting the unholy creature in the name of Onatar, I shatter his bony maw once and for all. At least I thought. His bony corpse hit the ground but dissolved into mist.

While this was happening, Rendar scrambled up to find large green maggot-worms moving towards him… Glowing purple scimitar in one hand and short sword in the other, he quickly dispatched the one to his right as Cyzicus made short order of the other with arrows from above.

Just as this last horror was over someone yells out “Carrion crawler! Watch out for their poisonous tentacles!" It was quite large, 10-ft. long, and rearing up with numerous legs and flailing mouth-tentacles. With great dismay, I watched as Magnus did not heed our shouted warning. He jumped down along the edge of the the slick moat and took the oversized worm head on! It bore down on him and lashed him with its poisonous tendrils. We watched as the barbarian went wide-eyed limp before the beast. Xoma, Rendar, and Cypher all rushed to his aid. With haste they quickly dispatch the gigantic creepy-crawly and scrambled up the walls of the moat with the ropes we were wise enough to bring. Just in the nick of time―as more of the gigantic green flesh-eating worms scurried and slithered in toward us.


There I stood with Xoma, Rendar, and bloodied Halbazar on the far side of a moat now swarming with carrion crawlers, looking at Magnus, Cypher and Cyzicus upon the opposite side balcony, wondering what to do… too deep in the ground to tell where we are and too tired of bones and the macabre to care.

So goes this tale of woes and foes by Doongul “Ironfoot” Soronath, faithful servant of the Sovereign Host.

#18 - Gelatinous Doors

Here the narrative is written by Xoma of the M’jai family, a drow wizard from a long line of Vulkoori chieftains in the jungles of Xen'drik.

*          *          *

I love bones. The presence of numerous bones reminds me that I am alive, and that my enemies are dead. Of course, these bones were of hapless fools who fell when attacked by an undead creature with enormous skeletal claws.

As we sat examining the bones and the chamber of the creature, Cypher set off yet another trap. This one was some sort of glyph that caused a force to exert pulling pressure on bones. Fortunately for him, due to the fact that he possesses no bones—one would have to be alive, or at least undead, to have bones—he was unaffected.

But then another trap went off, a pit in the floor. Cyzicus, Rendar, and Halbazar fell in, though I arrested the momentum of Rendar, who was holding Halbazar. For some reason, my feather fall spell seems to have diminished in power. Perhaps it is some effect of being so deep underground. Regardless, it did not help Cyzicus, who fell on some spikes and was moderately injured. I regret having to choose between companions, though I will not lose sleep about it; when two can be helped instead of one, I choose two. Split-second conflict requires split-second decisions. 

Meanwhile, Magnus, Doongul, and I fought against the pull of the bone glyph. Cypher remained unaware of what was happening. Using rope, we managed to lower ourselves down into the pit without landing on any spikes or other unfortunate protrusions. The area below the bone chamber was crusted in a strange lichen typically only found deep below the earth. I do not believe we are that  far down, but perhaps there is some sort of mystical connection between our location and Khyber.

We followed the lichen tunnels. It became clear that there was some strange mystical influence about the place. Eventually, the tunnel came to a pit. There was a small rim or ledge around the pit on either side, leading farther into the tunnels. The entire pit area and ledge around it were covered in slimy purple moss. A quick check revealed that we could not burn our way through through it without consequence. A fire spell produced nothing but choking fumes. I suspect that the fumes are a natural defense mechanism of the fungi to prevent its destruction.

We manage to eventually creep around the ledge. Doongul sopped up much of the slime in his beard and the others made a handy passage, so I just walked around. The tunnel continued for just a few yards beyond the slime area before it was blocked by two crystalline walls, enclosing a figure. Within the walls was a armor-encased hobgoblin skeleton propped up by… wire? Or string? It was hard to see.

Doongul tried to use the "emperor's key" to open the door, but that yielded nothing. He opened it manually, and that is when we discovered what had really happened. The skeleton was actually suspended within an enormous cube of slime. A Khyber cube, by the Common tongue. I had heard of such creatures, had seen one firsthand before, and had no desire to see my flesh melted off by its acidic surface, so I roared a thunder spell at the creature, slamming it back, so that we could retreat to the slime chamber.

Unfortunately, not everyone managed to elude the cube before it surged forward. It dealt grievous harm to the already-addled Halbazar. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was dead. 

We all maneuvered around the pit, trying to avoid touching the creature, while pelting it with spells and missile attacks. Eventually, the cube slid and fell into the pit. But that’s not where the confrontation ends.

There was something in the pit. It started to damage the cube from within until the creature collapsed from lack of internal stability. Then it leaped out of the pit. It was the hobgoblin skeleton suspended within the cube! This cannot be good!

We fought the skeleton, but it was nimble and quite strong. It seemed to be regenerating as we fought it, growing new flesh and shrugging off any damage we dealt it. This is not going to be an easy foe to dispatch! But perhaps it is not invulnerable. It fled before us, and though Magnus gave chase, it rounded the corner beyond the prismatic door and disappeared in the narrow cracks of a natural cave.