#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.

#17 - Fiendish Revelations

A Seren village

Here, as the PCs take a much-needed rest in the goblin laboratory, the narrative is picked up by the Seren barbarian, Magnus, Bringer of Fire.

*          *          *

Finally! Some rest!

We woke up, rested and healed. While we slept, another change had come over us, also. It was as if some smoky mist had cleared and we were revealed to be newly made, but more like our true dragon selves.  Each of us had developed into a better version of himself; Doongal’s hammer now glows with powerful forge-light, for instance.

Cyzicus read his letter from the undead wight or ghastling we had killed, now known to be the remains of the ranger called Wolaf. Here it is, as relayed by Cyzicus in the Common tongue:

Koruun,

I am no chronicler. I am ill-suited to this task. But there is no other. Claviger has perished, and I cannot recover his body. Who do I pray to for the soul of a warforged? Onatar? Eberron herself? Does his soul roam Dolurrh or has his story ended? His death is on my conscience. I condemned him to this.

I must write of what I know, but I am dying. My wounds will not close. I must write swiftly.

I have learned what befell Paluur Draal, the City of the South. Once it was the southern bastion of the Dhakaani Empire. But as the Lords of Xoriat overwhelmed the other parts of the empire, the Governor became paranoid and desperate. He knew the horrors of the Daelkyr would soon reach his doorstep. From a deep pit within the mountain, he heard a distant voice. He coaxed it, made sacrifices, and found a way to make direct contact with it. The Governor listened, and formed a pact with it. Something slumbering in the depths, accepting its aid in defending his city from the aberrations of the Daelkyr.

But the cost was greater than the boon. His lieutenants became possessed by demons, and the Governor himself transformed into a creature of death and ravenous hunger. He fed on his own people and publicly executed citizens for the slightest infractions. The dar did their best to resist the Governor and his new regime. At great cost, they succeeded, driving their demon-possessed lords back into the vault of the mountain and sealing it with doors only the Emperor himself would be able to open.

We were wrong about Paluur Draal. The monsters that destroyed this place came from below—but it was not the daelkyr, at least not at first. The armies of Xoriat found a broken populace when they arrived and found it easy to slay or enslave those who remained.

I cannot prove any of this. I have learned this much from the mind of the creature that killed Claviger, that has killed me. It spoke truths in my mind that burn me still. They burrow through my skull like a relentless worm. Through it I have learned the name of the being the Governor came to serve, and I cannot get it out of my head. To think it is to fear it, to speak it is to weaken its bonds. I dare not write it. In turn, I know it knows of me now, where I came from, what I fight for, and the fact that I came here alone. Even without your approval, old friend. I am trapped here.

I do not know how to send this letter to you, Koruun. Warning you of this fiend is the only quest I have left and I am failing even in this. I have prayed that even after my death, someone will bear this message to you. If they succeed, then there may be hope.

Listen to me now. I believe this fiend is one of the rajahs from the Age of Demons, the first children of Khyber. If so, then it is the greatest threat we face now, for there are those abroad who work even now to free him. And he is stirring. They will not stop until they have opened the seals in the Seven Caves. The Draconic Prophecy speaks of several ways to do so.

The enemy knows that the Emperor of Dhakaan himself possessed an object that could open any gate erected by any of his subjects. The loyal, the remote, even the traitorous. All doors would be open to him. This object alone can remove some of the seals, but the rajah's servants do not possess it yet.

Koruun, I know you fear the opening of the Changegate. That day may come, but there are fiends already present we must be concerned with.

they will not sleep

forever

The governor now guards the nexus

he must not be fed

    i must stop

don't feel

the same

    anymore

need   hide

winter coalition must form

         claviger has

                            key

It gets very messy at the end there. Now, I don’t get all of it but it seems this "key" we have was involved in the collapse of this city, long ago.  The letter talks about voices in a pit and a deal with fiends. The fiends—demons?—were bound in seven caves and the key would get them out? This sounds like the lore from the old stories and shaman-legends I grew up with on Seren.  If any of it is true, it explains why all the forces chasing us will stop at nothing to get the key. Some of the others remember seeing “seven caves” on a map, so maybe it is true somehow.

Cyzicus (and his dead friend) thinks all this information needs to go directly to Cyzicus’s mentor. Do we go ourselves or do we go to the gnome city to get some help and transmit the story through some speaking stones? Maybe we go to the gnome city and take the lightning rail? I don't, but I’m along for the ride.

First, we have to get ourselves out of the cave we’re in! 

Halbazar remains manacled and mad, the Halbazar we see  in the mirror has given up. As Doongul smashes up the remains of the mirror (trying to get to the other side?) there is a big boom and clank from the top of the stairs. I grab a lantern to check it out, and a huge wave of (frightened?) rats pours down the stairs and disperses into the room, disappearing. At the top of the stairs there is a (now) open portcullis, I call for the rest of the party.

Xoma and Cypher come up to see about how the gate works, and if there is magic involved.  Whatever it is, it’s open and we can’t operate it.  Rendar and Doongul wrestle Hal up the stairs (he seems happy!) and tie a rope to his manacles and send him down the passage in front of us.  We form up and make our way.

The passage is long, so long that everyone thinks it’s weird. Cypher starts to say it looks familiar (from that flying messenger thing) and so I start making chalk marks on the wall to sort of record our passage. After a while, we come to a collapsed metal figure in the hall. Cypher steps up and identifies the dead thing as the warforged companion of Wolaf, from the letter and the flying thing. Claviger is (was) its name. Then the others loot the corpse. They tear off its arm to take an “arm-bow” and then rip open its body to take out some wand thing. I am amazed at their lust for stuff.

Anyway, we move a few more yards (or miles?) down this hallway and we see it open up into a room or something ahead. Then, we disarm Hal (I take two of his his oil flasks) because we don’t trust him in a fight. We push Hal up into the room and we can see stairs up left and stairs up right.  Rendar asks Hal, “Why are you smiling?”  Hal replies, “I know a secret.”  Weird. 

The party starts to enter the room—

Then, there is a big bump to the right, and suddenly, all the flame lights go out.  Good job Doongal for the glowing hammer!  Off to the right, a door opens and a huge pile of skulls and bones pours down the stairs and into the room, all over the floor, over a foot deep.

Cyzicus, who is up in front and checking the source of the bones, is attacked from above by a rake of super long swords. He whips around and yells out that there is a beastie up on a platform over the doorway we are coming from.

I hop into the room, and whip a spear at the nasty, bony undead up there, miss. Xoma slips in, takes one look and throws up a defense spell.  Doongul scurries in, casts a spell that conjures a magic floating hammer from his god that swipes at the creature, but misses. Cyzicus fires some arrows, which the creature bats aside. Rendar flings a hand ax that sticks in the thing's side, obvious damage but no blood.

The nasty lashes out with his claws, which extend from his hands and grow three or four yards as he swings!  I’m caught by surprise and he pulls my mace away from me up to his ledge—he’ll pay for that. The piles of bones start to rustle and a bunch of skeletons stand up out of the mix and start to attack. 

I chuck another spear up at it, but I can’t nail the thing. Xoma blasts the claw-beast with a huge boom of thunder which pushes it back against the wall of the alcove and the beastie seems hurt.  Xoma and I get back in the tunnel for some cover. Doongal clouts the nasty with his floating, glowing hammer and then holds up his holy symbol and shouts a command at the skeletons.

Cyzicus demolishes a skeleton with one massive slash from his scimitar. Rendar also blows one to pieces with his purplish scimitar, but his second swing hits only air. The undead on the ledge swings twice at Rendar who bobs out of the way—nice moves! Cypher boldly steps up and grabs a skeleton with his bare hand, letting loose some kind of lightening charge (that’s new!), it dies.

One of the skeletons runs directly away from Doongal, I guess his “blessing” worked. As it flees, Rendar takes a swipe and kills it outright!  In the confusion, Halbazar charges into Rendar with his hands still in manacles. Rendar isn’t expecting that and gets knocked over, down in the bones rolling around fighting with Hal, ugh.

I run out from the tunnel and chuck an oil flask at the nasty, splashing all over the place up there. Xoma then strides from the tunnel and casts a spell that covers the whole ledge (and upper part of the room) in darkness. Then Doongal (good man!) chucks a lit torch up on the ledge and we all hear that happy “woomph” noise of oil lighting up—no light though, the darkness spell prevails. That should flush that critter out of there so we can fight him on the ground.

Cyzicus swats at Hal and misses, Rendar hops up, swings at Hal, misses and then gets pushed back down by Halbazar. Tricky fighting for a guy with his hands in manacles! 

The nasty creature jumps down out of the darkness (it's really big, and has to duck down under the darkness spell to see) and slashes at Doongal who just hides behind his heavy shield as the claws clatter. 

The creature then slices Cypher with its long claws and the warforged is badly hurt—out of fighting commission, I think. I hurl one more oil flask at the critter and it hits dead on, soaking him (it?) but I can’t light it up. I then take a running leap, find some easy footholds and climb up the wall into the darkness on the ledge. Luckily my hand lands right on my mace, the darkness and leftover slippery, burning oil in the dark make me want out of the place right away.

Xoma steps up and casts a spell with a cone of fire, and lights the oil soaked creature aflame! Doongal then lets out his own thunderclap; pounding the big nasty again. His floating hammer misses a skeleton but Cyzicus demolishes it with his scimitar. Rendar pops up and pounds Hal; we need to get that situation under control!

The creature starts walking about and Doongal gets in a nice swat with his hammer, breaking some bone. I jump down out of the dark and land looking up at the big beastie. I smash it in the jaw with my mace and it drops, twitching.

“Finish it, Xoma!” I yell. And he does, with more fire from his hands.

It’s still burning when Xoma looks around and asks if any of the bones in the pile are sharp enough to be made into new weapons.  Sheesh, that drow is creepy!

#16 - The Wight Laboratory

After passing through a secret door in the wall—and provoking no more of the foul amorphous humanoids—the PCs descended a stairwell to another bronze door. The Emperor's Key once again opened it with a spoken command—this time by Doongul—and they came to another line of magic symbols carved into the floor. Study of the runes yielded little, but did suggest they were glyphs of warding. Meant to keep something out, or in. They had no trouble passing the runes themselves.

Beyond lay a dusty laboratory, clearly once used by the dar (goblinkind) and therefore these inner chambers were still somehow part of the city of Paluur Draal. It was a room of detritus, rot, shelves, beakers, crumbling scrolls and arcane books. And bodies. Several long dead bodies of human explorers or prospectors. In the center of the chamber, facing those who entered, was another slab of black, polished, mirror-like obsidian. This one was tall, floor to ceiling, and was built into a central column. Halbazar found himself staring into it—but disturbed by it, stepped back out of the room again.

Magnus and Doongul discovered the room's first hazard: hobgoblin skulls resting in alcoves which spewed foul poison when passing in front of them. Despite being sprayed by the deathly mist, Doongul toughed it out, only briefly weakened. Most of these skulls were simply smashed with hammer and morningstar.

Meanwhile, Rendar was the first to discover the first real problem. Halbazar's reflection in the dark mirror appeared to act quite differently than Halbazar himself. The image came forward, looking alarmed, and appeared to bang upon the surface of the obsidian—soundlessly. As if he were trapped in there. Meanwhile, Halbazar in body came forward, behind Rendar, and literally stabbed the half-orc in the back. No longer in possession of his own mind, Halbazar went mad. Rendar was bleeding from the nasty wound, but he turned and wrestled with the human, trying to subdue him!

But by this time the laboratory's chief had occupant appeared, standing on the stairway at the far end of the room.

A wight. Tall, long-nailed, sharp-toothed, ragged, bearded, once-human, in the torn cloak of his former life. Quite undead. He looked upon Cyzicus, and said, "Are you from the Eldeen?" When the shifter answered to the affirmative, the wight ordered "others" to attack, sparing only the shifter—at which point the corpses of the explorers, little more than husks and nails, rose to their feet and attacked.

With some painful hits and the draining touch of the wight himself—who leapt upon the very very walls and to maneuver around them—the creature and his corpse minions finally fell. As his own undead life was expiring, the wight clutched Cyzicus and told him to search beneath the stones, indicating a corner of the room.

Halbazar was eventually subdued and manacled by Rendar, with help. Though calmer now, he was still not himself. And his own silent image in the dark mirror remained despondent. During the fight, it was revealed that Halbazar was no longer able to cross the line of runes that warded the laboratory from the way the PCs had come.

As the party rested, Cyzicus discovered the loose flagstone in the corner of the room, where a folded-up, blood-stained letter had been written. The shifter read it first to himself, seeming deep in thought. His quest of finding a missing member of his order—a ranger named Wolaf—had come to an end.

#15 - Dark Mirrors

Cypher, stunned by the experience preserved in the final messenger's tale, eventually related it to the others. Cyzicus actually recognized the name of the human mentioned in Claviger's last memory: Wolaf, a range from the Eldeen Reaches and a member of his order, and the very man that Cyzicus was sent to find. But there was no way to determine from the device just how old the experience was. In short, the warforged named Claviger was dead, and he had been in the company of Wolaf, and somehow the final messenger fell into the hands of the gargoyles of this mountain. Wolaf's fate remained unknown, but this was confirmation that he had been here.

Laying Dursha's body amidst the other skeletal remains in the gargoyle's bone pits, the PCs then headed back down the spiral stairway, with apparently nowhere else to go. Part of the way down, the spectral hobgoblin appeared again and requested that Cypher follow him, citing something about him being expected. He was presumably under the delusion that Cypher was someone of importance—perhaps the Emperor of ancient Dhakaan itself—and certainly not a warforged. Of course, the Empire of Dhakaan fell thousands of years before warforged had been created. If the ghost didn't know he was a ghost, that might make sense.

So they headed down the rough-hewn steps, spiraling further down into the mountain below the inner sanctum of Paluur Draal's palace.  But it was on those stairs that the ghost suddenly turned and attacked Cypher, attempting to either wrest the Emperor's Key talisman away from him...or else to throw him down into the abyss. The PCs fought back on the narrow stairs, and had some close calls. Cyzicus even risked a fall by climbing beneath the battle on the stairs in hopes of fighting from the opposite side. At one point, the hobgoblin's body changed, manifesting what might have been the means of his mortal death: with a scream, his body tore apart as if from massive claws, spilling out spectral organs and gore. It was an alarming effect, but ultimately harmless. Spells proved partially successful, though a lot of physical attacks and missiles passed harmlessly through the spirit's body. Eventually, they'd dealt enough harm to it and the ghost vanished altogether. Destroyed or merely dispersed?

After the fight, they continued on down the stair that wound down the chasm and found that it reached a "bottom" of sorts. The pit itself continued down into darkness without a stair to chase it. What used to be an open passage was now buried rubble, but there was also a door nearby, and the PCs pushed past it to find a curious new chamber.

A line of arcane sigils were carved into the floor—not characters of any language but symbols that, combined, might have some magical effect. Meanwhile, the room itself was hexagonal in shape, and against four of the walls were tall, smooth blocks of obsidian. They were polished so clear they looked like dark mirrors.

And it was when the first of the PCs caught his own reflection in one that a creature took shape as his reflection...then ambled out of the image, murmuring and gibbering, and attacked!

They were squat, bulbous, with hideous, rubbery, bruise-colored skin, long skinny arms, and wicked claws. As the fight was joined, more of them appeared—each time one of the PCs crossed into the direct line of sight of one of the mirrors, they came forth. Their claws were cruel, and their breath foul, but eventually they were all slain. Wherever the creatures fell, they melted down into disgusting puddles of slime.

#14 - Wings and Heights

The PCs did not comply to the ghostly hobgoblin's words, but camped out and rested, weary from their battle and mostly confident that the surviving enemies—namely, Avashad, Drazul, and any Emerald Claw soldiers—would not be able reach them. The mysterious shade walked through the wall and vanished without a word.

During their rest, some of the PCs examined their new treasures and Xoma sought out the room labeled "Separation Chamber" on the map, with minimal success.  Rendar donned the Karrnathi banded mail taken from one of the skeletal warriors. It looked distinctively Karrnath, yes, but here inside the mountain, who would care?

When they were rested, Cypher used the Emperor's Key to "open" the great plaque, which dissolved the pillar of shadow depicted in the relief into dark smoke, thus creating a passage through. The PCs went through, but Halbazar was reluctant—he had an intense dislike and general distrust for goblinkind (dead or otherwise).

They found themselves emerging onto the edge of a daunting, circular chasm of rough-hewn stone which rose out of sight into darkness (with a glimmer of daylight far above), and down into the depths into utter darkness. A spiral stairway, carved vaguely into the rock walls, wound itself both up and down the unseen distance. The shelf 

Halbazar immediately chose to go up, not wanting to go further into the earth. And in that moment a gargoyle, camouflaged against the rock wall, sprang from beneath the spiral stair and slammed into him. It was soon joined by a second and a new battle was underway. It didn't last long, though. The gargoyles were quickly slain with arrows, spells, morning stars, and warhammers. Their heavy bodies dropped into the depths.

But the PCs continued upward, toward the distant light. After several spirals later, with Xoma and his darkvision in the lead, they reached the top of the stairs—though the shaft itself continue further up beyond their reach—where a pair of stony gargoyles perched and watched them. The PCs attempted to bargain with them as Xoma attempted to sneak upon them. Another gargoyle emerged from a tunnel behind the other two, revealing the battered and unconscious body of Dursha, the old goblin woman from the Bookmark Inn, who they'd captured from the ruins outside.

Using the decoy of the Emperor's Key as part of a bargain, the PCs "reasoned" with them and entered their lair. Inside was a long chamber of narrow walkways and carved fissures, with various humanoid bones strewn about the place. Six gargoyles flanked the central walkway and at the far end, in front of another exit, was a large idol of stone resembling an exaggerated gargoyle or some sort of devilish figure. To Doongul, it resembled one possible depiction of the Devourer or the Shadow, gods of the Dark Six.

But then the statue itself moved, revealing it to be a gargoyle, too—a very big one. Ogre-sized, at least. Around its neck hung a velvet bag. The PCs again attempted to bargain with the gargoyles for passage beyond their lair, and the great gargoyle eventually conceded to a single fight between each side's "champion." The assumption was, if PC champion won, they could pass. If the gargoyle champion won, the PCs would have surrender at least one of their own as a meal.

The PCs chose Magnus as their champion, and of course the large gargoyle was theirs.

It was a short but brutal fight, with a gravely wounded gargoyle lord and a very unconscious Magnus crashing to the ground. But the moment the Seren barbarian went down, Xoma joined in by releasing a Ray of Enfeeblement at the gargoyle leader. The spell wounded him further, but the action incited mass combat, as the other six gargoyles joined in.

It was another exhausting battle, as spells and weapons tore into stony flesh—and gargoyle talons and horns punctured PC bodies. Blood was spattered upon the ground from both sides. The great gargoyle assumed a petrified state and seemed to heal like this, but eventually animated again to renew the attack and even tried to escape. Magnus, wakened at last with magical healing, finally delivered the death blow to the massive gargoyle, who crumbled into stone even as he died. 

Dursha had not survived the battle.

Within the rubble of his remains was a gleaming, broad-bladed dagger that the arcanists of the party recognized as magical. Runes and gargoylish designs were etched into the blade. Within the velvet bag Cypher discovered a curious metal object which he soon identified as a final messenger, an artificer-made object that could be embedded within the chest cavity of  a warforged. They were used to impart a message to another warforged that the messenger can fly to, or the final moments of the construct's life.

While the other PCs delved into the pits around the room among the countless bones of the gargoyles' victims, Cypher placed the messenger inside his own chest and experienced the final moments of another warforged's life:

Light shines in a long corridor. Where the light fades, darkness fills both directions. It shines from a lantern in your left hand. In your right is a crossbow. No, your hand is a crossbow.


“I don’t like this,” you say.

Your name is Claviger. The final messenger imparts this knowledge to you. You are a warrior with some artificer training. You never fought for any of the Five Nations. When you were created by the heirs of House Cannith, you were purchased by a human unaffiliated with the house. He immediately gave you your freedom, but he asked you for help on a quest. That was a few years ago now.

“I don’t like it, either, old friend,” says your companion, who insists on walking in front of you. He is human, gruff, big-bodied, bearded. Cloaked, carrying a broadsword. The man is at least fifty years old―which you can hardly fathom. You’re not so “young” for a warforged, but you’ve been alive for less than ten years. You can hardly grasp living for five decades or more. Can warforged truly live that long?

“Why doesn’t this tunnel end?” you say. “It isn’t natural.”

“No,” the human replies softly. Is that fear in his voice? “It is most certainly unnatural. Remember who made this place.”

Then something looms before you both in the darkness ahead. Without moving, its very presence sends uncomfortable vibrations through your body. You try to see it better, but it is nothing more than figure at the edge of your light. Tall, emaciated. Dead, you think.

Or undead.

It glides closer.

“Wolaf!” you yell. “Get behind me! You promised you would let me do my job.”

“We’re beyond the bodyguard thing now, Claviger. You’re already wounded. I can take this thing. Just stay—!”

The creature is upon you! It looks like it’s smiling. Full of bones and razors and wet muscle. Claws, impossibly long, lash out. Wolaf slashes with his sword and parries its attack, but with a second sweep of its claws it sends him crashing against the wall in a spray of blood. He grunts and goes down, but you know he’s still alive. You must keep him alive!

You shout and storm forward, loosing bolts even as you throw down your lantern and draw out your sword. The creature turns its full attention upon you now. Pressure so intense it can only be called pain courses through your body as claws tear through wood and stone.

You weather the attack and drive your blade into its body. But the knife-blades of its fingers won’t stop tearing. You realize you have failed your only friend. Perhaps you can buy him time.

Perhaps—