Attronarch's Athenaeum

Campaign journals, reviews of TTRPG stuff, and musings on D&D.

Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Heinrik Human Magic-user level 1 Muscular mage with short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.
Kho Rimbo Human Magic-user level 3 A knife throwing wizard extraordinaire. Covered in ritual knife scars. Cuts himself whilst casting. Prone to being sarcastic.

Maggotfeast

“Would you like to play a game?”

Old Crus tantalised Kho Rimbo and Heinrik.

Two junior magic-users have been serving him for several seasons now. They did so in return for access to his magical library and tutoring.

Although moving and speaking at glacial speed, Old Crus had meticulous notes and quite a gift for mentoring. And so they toiled under him.

Both jumped at the opportunity to have some fun time instead.

Here is how it went, in their own words.

Kho Rimbo's retelling

Written by Kho Rimbo's player.

Kho Rimbo and Heinrik found themselves in a yawning cavern, still, silent, and dark.

Before them a great granite door. The way forward was obvious, the means of advancing less so. Three words adorned the door in relief, the language unknown until the application of a charm of translation cast from Kho Rimbo's repertoire of spells.

Errukiz.

Ezdrubal.

Elomcwe.

No amount of thoughtful chin scratching triggered any ideas in Kho's usually keen mind. It was Heinrik who solved the quandary.

“Anagram” he chirped up.

“Elomcwe is an anagram of welcome”

“Aha!” exclaimed Kho, feeling more than a little stupid.

“I wondered when you would get it.” Heinrik replied with a quizzically raised eyebrow that Kho pretended to ignore.

Once the letters were depressed, in the correct order, the door began to vibrate and rumble before it slowly sank into the floor. It was no ordinary portal, rather a ten-by-ten block of solid stone. The silence of the cavern was shattered by a cacophony of moaning and wailing from beyond the door, it seemed that all the damned souls of hell awaited them within.

They peered over the stone into a chamber constructed of lurid green veined marble, four black pillars marked with strange symbols bisected the room, beyond that Kho's lanterns meagre light was swallowed by pitch dark that echoed with anguish.

“You go first” the pair said in unison, both smiled grimly, and then entered together.

The black pillars were first examined with extreme caution, and then with frustration. Each bore a perplexing symbol, each one different, no amount of pondering could draw any conclusion to their meaning.

When they passed the the columns the great stone block trundled back into position, blocking, literally, any chance to return that way. On the blocks inner surface another symbol was revealed that corresponded with one of the markings on the pillars.

More perplexed procrastination followed until they gave up on the symbols and concluded it prudent to move on into the wailing chamber and see what their light revealed.

Three pools were discovered, each evenly spaced and spanning the the length of the long hall. They brimmed with clear liquid, possibly water, probably acid suspected Kho, as they were bedded with a jumble of bones bleached like fine china.

Pensively they passed the pools on the southern side, ears rang with the cries of the damned and both expected the touch of bony fingers at any moment, but they proceeded without incident.

The long pools ended at another pool, this one square and pitch black, beyond hung a great bronze bell.

First the pool, and then the bell were inspected. The pool was filled with liquid and appeared pitch black. It went deeper than the long pole used to plumb its depths.

The bell was discovered to be plain except for a patina of verdigris.

Their only option seemed to be to ring the bell, but they were loathe to discover what its pealing might summon. In trepidation it was rung via the reach of the long pole, its tolling echoed up and down the hall momentarily drowning the incessant moaning, lips were bitten, and then slowly the liquid in the back pool began to drain revealing a deep, dark shaft.

Kho volunteered to be lowered down, reasoning that if he did this it would be on Heinrik's head to do the next recklessly dangerous deed.

The nerve wracking descent into the dark seemed to last an eternity.

Eventually he hit the bottom where he fumbled around in the darkness. His foot kicked something that clanked along the floor, probing hands recovered an object, small, cold, and of metal. Eagerly Kho yanked the rope to signal Heinrik to pull him back topside. The object was revealed to be a key of black iron.

Next followed a fruitless and frustrating search for a keyhole. It came to naught, but they did find a passage exiting the hall that had been formerly hidden in the darkness.

It was from here the incessant wailing seemed to emanate. They advanced to find a room of horror.

The chamber was the nexus of the cacophony, it seemed to come from the eyes on the walls, terrified eyes that stared, a myriad of eyes plucked from all manner of creatures, man, beast, and monster. They streamed with tears of green that trickled down into gutters around the walls edges before draining into holes in the rooms corners.

A thorough examination of the chamber was conducted. Eyes were poked via the pole, and even the black key. The result was the same. A sickening pop followed by yolky eye matter sliding into the gutters before being carried with the flow into the gurgling drain holes. The green tears were discovered to be caustic and best avoided.

Whether by luck, or keen perception, it was Heinrik who discerned the outline of a door hidden on the western wall. The eyes on its surface were popped with eager daggers and in turn the acidic tears were quenched, thus allowing the pair to push open the secret door. They were all to happy to leave behind the chamber of eyes and misery and hurried on regardless of what lay ahead.

They now found themselves in a large chamber, its centre dominated by a huge chimeric humanoid statue with one arm reached out as if in salute. Doors were positioned at the rooms cardinal points whilst more statues and a black stone cylinder stood in alcoves at the chambers corners.

They studied the statues first, by eye rather than risking touch. The central one loomed over them menacingly as they investigated. It became obvious the thing could be rotated but the decide to move on without interacting with it further.

The statues in the alcoves were all similar but at the same time different, all animal human hybrids cast from stained bronze. Two of them, mole and fly headed, were both articulated at their hands and wrists and stood on bases that looked like they could be unscrewed like giant bolts.

The third, tiger headed, was plain in comparison despite its ornate armour, seemly having no special features like the previous two.

Finally they moved on to peruse the black cylinder and immediately recognised the four symbols arranged in a diamond formation upon its surface. They were the very same as the ones they encountered on the pillars when they first entered this confounding complex. further more they noticed a keyhole.

Kho handed the key he had uncovered from the black pit to Heinrik whilst saying “I think its your turn.”

Sighing in resignation Heinrik put key to lock, it fit perfectly. Gently he twisted it clockwise, it turned, and turned, nothing happened. He then tried counter clockwise, still nothing. He turned it ninety degrees, a hundred and eighty, forty five, this way and that, although the damn key fit the lock it did nothing.

Crestfallen they turned their attention to the doors.

The north was firmly shut, no latch or lock apparent.

The western door opened with ease revealing a room with an oversized, bulbous, flabby stone face on the wall opposite. Filled with pluck Heinrik entered to study the visage and found both its eyes and nostrils to be deep cavities with a steady flow of air coming from the latter. He dared not probe the holes so they left the room and turned their attention to the southern door.

Like the last it opened without resistance.

In the chamber beyond they were met with a pit dug into the middle of the floor and housing a closed coffin, the door was promptly closed on this ominous scene.

After a short debate they decided to attempt to rotate the central statue, grinding as it turned, they aimed its saluting arm towards the locked door and were rewarded with a sharp click from its hidden lock. Beyond led a long passage and they forged on leaving the chamber behind.

The route drew them into a still and silent crypt filled with six sarcophagi, four small and two oversized, all sealed with mortar.

Thinking it best to leave the dead to their eternal slumbering they hurried across the chamber and through a door in the opposite wall.

They found themselves in a short corridor that ended in a t-junction. Another primitive stone face greeted them, its fat lips forming a shape as if blowing. As they reached the visage the door behind them slammed shut revealing a surface covered in vicious spikes, they darted to the sides of the face fearing being blown into the waiting deadly protrusions, but naught happened. Cavities in the ears were investigated, one by one, the first triggered a gale of wind from the mouth but they were safely out of its path. In the other ear they found a small green basalt key.

They headed south into a chamber dominated by a huge green basalt column. Under scrutiny it revealed it had a small key hole located at its base. The newly acquired key fit the lock and was turned. In response the whole side of the pillar exploded outwards showering the duo with sharp shards of jagged stone. Groaning they got up from the floor, bodies cut and smarting.

A large cavity was now apparent in the column and within stood a purple coffin with a painted figure on its lid, a beautiful woman with a silver pendant around its neck. With rope they pulled it out, causing it to crash to floor. A crowbar was applied to jemmy the nailed down lid. The corpse within bared no resemblance to the image upon the lid, it seemed to be a male elf, but around its neck hung the same silver pendant the painting wore. This was initially ignored in favour of a brass scroll tube at the bodies side.

Wincing, Kho Rimbo twisted off the lid, expecting the worst, but finding only an innocent looking roll of brittle papyrus within.

This was unfurled, it read:

“To sail the ship that is smiled upon The silver necklace must be donned.”

Neither could fathom its meaning, but the corpses necklace was retrieved in case a ship of some sort was encountered later.

Backtracking they headed north, past the stone face, and found the passage terminated in a long echoing hall lined down the centre with black marble pillars.

First they headed left, passing doors, one of which was adorned with a painting of a demonic camel face and guarded by a mechanical suit of armour. These were given a wide berth.

At the halls end they looked into a chamber filled with a forest of pillars carved to resemble coiling snakes with foul human like faces that made them think twice of entering.

Returning back the other way the hall led them to a chamber with the appearance of a shrine.

Two coal fed braziers burned in the near corners casting a dull red glow into the room that was reflected off a scarlet altar on the far side. Ornate candelabras flanked the altar. Tapestries of frolicking beastmen hung on the side walls. Most prominent was a large rug woven to appear like a swirling maelstrom, directly above it was a mosaic that mirrored the image below.

With fearful footsteps they circumnavigated the chambers edge and made for the altar. On its surface was the same four perplexing symbols they kept finding about the complex along with a collection of objects of alien appearance and no apparent use.

Attention was turned to the candelabras and they noticed that all of the candles were of black tallow, except one, which was blood red. On a whim Kho lit the red candle and immediately fled as a snaking coil of billowing pink smoke twirled towards him. But he was not its target. Instead it turned towards the wall and began to pool at the base of one of the tapestry's. Lifting the arras with the trusty long pole revealed the smoke had made its way up the wall and was outlining a secreted door.

Feeling they had pushed their luck far enough in this room they forced the door open and advanced into the corridor beyond.

Wise Heinrik pocketed the red candle before he left.

They marched on, seemingly in step with a procession of familiar looking beast men painted along one wall.

Through a door was a chamber of black and white stone set with two pools, one containing dozens of colourful fish, the other with a kings ransom of mixed coinage at its bottom. Beyond both was another primitive stone face, as ugly as its brothers, its nostrils flared and mouth shaped as if ready to scream.

Kho and Heinrik took up positions either side of the face and reached around with their arms to explore a nostril each. Kho found nothing. Heinrik a keyhole. When neither of the keys in their possession fit the lock they decided to move on, ignoring the pools altogether.

Blue alloy doors were opened next. In the room beyond was a floor mosaic of obsidian and quartz forming the pattern of one of the symbols now familiar to the pair.

Kho stepped onto the symbol.

He was immediately eviscerated in a spinning vortex of mosaic pieces.

As Kho was carrying the lantern Heinrik now found himself in the dark. But like any smart wizard he had come equipped with a light spell Which was quickly brought into being.

There was no sign of his hapless companion, Heinrik was now on his own.

He made his way back the way he came. All the way to the wide hall lined with black pillars and on to the chamber containing the snake carved columns.

Meanwhile, despite the evidence of Heinrik's eyes, Kho Rimbo was not dead. He fell through the air before plummeting into cold water, his lantern doused as it sunk beneath the surface.

Unlike well prepared Heinrik he didn't have a light spell at hand. He splashed around in the dark until he found somewhere to climb out of the water. As he heaved himself up there was a flash of blue light and Kho was turned to charcoal by a blast of lightening.

Heinrik lit the red candle and advanced amongst the forest of serpentine pillars.

Hissing filled his ears and the stone trunks around him seemed to slither, but luck was with him, the smoke of the candle uncovered a nearby secret door that he burst through as if all the fiends of hell were at his back.

There was a flash, a feeling of being disembodied, and Heinrik and Kho Rimbo found themselves in the circular chamber beneath the tower of old Crus.

Crus was there waiting for them, beaming broadly and hoping from one foot to another in glee.

They had never seen him so animated.

“Marvellous!” he cheered.

He also wasn't usually as complimentary.

“That old buzzard Moss is livid.” he went on “And I won six vials of qiuicksilver from Bolash to boot. You did well my lads.”

“Mind explaining what all of that was about?” enquired Kho Rimbo.

“A game.” replied Crus. “Just a little game we wizards play.”

“And I take it we were just the pawns?” asked Kho a little angrily.

“Indeed! Indeed!” Replied Crus as he skipped away.

“I don't suppose we get anything out of playing your little game?” called Heinrik.

But the wizard had gone.

“Bloody wizards!” said Kho.

“Yeah! Fuck that guy” replied Heinrik in agreement.

Heinrik's retelling

Written by Heinrik's player.

Heinrik had immediately agreed when the old man asked him, or rather, urged him, to take part in a small contest on his behalf. Old Crus went on at length about how he was to engage in a contest of wits with several other magicians. This contest was not to be fought out by the magicians themselves, but by representatives chosen by them. With a sardonic grin, Old Crus told the two of them that they needn’t worry about their physical health. At most, their mental power might be at risk. Heinrik knew he had no choice but to take part in the contest if he wanted to continue learning from the old man. Old Crus led Heinrik and Kho Rimbo into his cellar, where he instructed them both to grasp a crystal ball. Heinrik let Kho Rimbo go first, but Old Crus barked at him that both of them had to touch the ball at the same time. Reluctantly, Heinrik also reached out his hands towards the ball, and seconds later the room began to spin. Kho Rimbo and Heinrik found themselves in a room filled with chests of adventure gear and books. Heinrik felt his power rise to a level he had never known before, and at the same time he sensed, no, he knew, that he had very little time to cram as many powerful spells as necessary into his brain and equip himself with the necessary gear.

Heinrik chose a selection of spells and, with great effort, forced ten spells upon his brain: Sleep, Charm Person, Light, Shield, Invisibility, Web, Phantasmal Force, Fly, Light Bolt and Wall of Ice. Kho Rimbo did the same. Heinrik had just grabbed a large canvas sack when the room began to spin again. Heinrik blinked, and the next moment he found himself in a large, dark cave, Kho Rimbo at his side.

Bloody hell, he thought, I’ve forgotten to bring a light source. Luckily, Kho Rimbo hadn’t been so careless and lit the lantern he’d brought with him. Heinrik played it cool and told Kho Rimbo, that he of course also brought a lantern but would it in his bag for now, until it was needed.

In the light of the lantern, a large block of granite appeared on the cave wall, and written right next to it were three words: Errukiz, Ezdrubal and Elomcwe. The last of the three words was clearly an anagram of “welcome”. Kho Rimbo began pressing the letters of the last word, which then receded into the wall. Nothing else happened. The two magicians stood in the cave for several minutes before it dawned on them that Kho Rimbo had not pressed the letters in the correct order. Suspicion crept into Heinrik’s mind, and for a moment the thought flashed through his mind as to whether the mental damage the old man had spoken of grinning had already set in.

Once the letters had been pressed in the correct order, the large granite block sank into the floor, opening up a passage into a vast, unlit chamber with a swirling dark green marbled floor, from which a deafening, polyphonic wailing could be heard. In the glow of the torch, four columns of black marble came into view, each bearing a different symbol. As the two ventured further into the room, they found two elongated pools of clear liquid, with clean bones lying on the bottom, and narrow passages running between and alongside each of them. The pair decided to take the right-hand passage of the three leading past the pools, until they finally came upon a smaller rectangular black pool and a large black bell at the far end of the room. Heinrik’s thoughts were still on the symbols on the pillars, but he could make no sense of them. Now he was certain that his mental decline had already begun. What a cruel trick by the old man. Unable to think of anything else to do, Kho Rimbo struck the bell with his 10-foot pole, whereupon the water level in the black pool began to drop. Despite this, the depth could not be discerned by the eye due to the deep blackness of the pool. The two decided that one of them would have to descend. Heinrik allowed Kho Rimbo to go first and lowered him into the depths with his rope.

Once he reached the black bottom, Kho Rimbo spotted a black key that was only visible when standing at the bottom. The duo tried rubbing their find on the symbols at the entrance to the room, but to no avail. After a while, the two adventurers had the idea of trying one of the other passages leading past the pools, which they had previously always avoided when traversing the room, for fear of traps. After a few steps, a large opening in the wall of the room appeared in the light of the lamp. “How much of my brain will be left once we’ve finished this cruel game?” thought Heinrik, cursing his mentor in his mind. The two followed the passage and entered a grotesque room whose walls were completely covered with weeping eyes of varying sizes. This also seemed to be the source of the wailing in the other room. The wailing here was so loud that Heinrik could barely hear his own thoughts. Heinrik’s anger evaporated, giving way to admiration for the magnificent magician who had created such a grotesque room. “To create magnificent wonders like this why we magicians put up with all these hardships!” he thought.

After the two had examined the room thoroughly but found no obvious passage, Kho Rimbo began, out of frustration, to stab the eyes at random with his dagger. As Heinrik could think of nothing better to do, he joined in, poking out eyes with the key. After 90 minutes, he was certain there was a secret door on one of the walls and continued poking out eyes until the door could be pushed open without touching the acidic tears from the eyes

Behind the door was a room with a large statue of an elephant-headed humanoid on a swivel in the middle, which stretched out its hand in a pointing gesture

In three of the four corners stood three smaller statues in “niches” (a crouching humanoid creature with a fly’s head, possibly rotatable, bolted to the floor and fitted with hinges on the back of its hand. Next a mole-man statue with shovel-hinges, and a jaw with hinges on a hexagonal base, possibly also rotatable. Lastly a bronze tiger-headed statue, green with age, with plate armour, a jagged blade, no hinges or seams, and non-rotatable) and in the fourth corner, a black column on which the symbols from the beginning were arranged in a diamond pattern. The column had a small keyhole on the side facing the wall. Heinrik tried to turn the key, but this had no visible effect.

In addition, three further marble doors led out of the room, the northern one being locked and the western and southern ones unlocked. The western room contained a large monkey-head statue on the wall, with large eyes, ears and a nose on the wall facing the door.

The southern room contained a wooden coffin, approximately seven feet long.

Kho Rimbo had the idea of pointing the statue in the centre towards the third door, causing it to open. Kho Rimbo and Heinrik followed the passageway behind it into a room containing six sarcophagi, and then through an iron door that closed immediately behind them. On the back of the door were a multitude of sharp, pointed daggers, and on the wall of a T-junction facing the iron door from this side, another stone face that had pursed its lips as if to blow. In one of the statue’s ears, the two found another key, this time green. When they examined the other ear, the statue blew forcefully towards the iron door. Heinrik and Kho Rimbo had already anticipated this and had therefore kept their distance from the statue’s mouth.

They took the key and proceeded, finding themselves in a room containing nothing but a green pillar with a keyhole. Kho Rimbo took the green key, inserted it into the hole and turned it with a vigorous motion, whereupon the pillar exploded into his and Heinrich’s faces, inflicting several bloody wounds on them. Heinrich began to wonder whether the old man had lied to them and they could actually die after all. The wounds certainly felt very real. Behind the splinters of shrapnel that had flown out of the pillar, a coffin appeared, containing a mummified male elven corpse that looked as if it had been choked to death, along with a metal tube containing a scroll that read: “Who sailed the ship that is smiled upon, The silver necklace must be donned” and a silver necklace. The two made their way into a room that was absolutely crammed with black columns. In one section, these were shaped like snakes with human heads.

The two adventurers initially avoided this area and instead entered an adjoining room with an 18-foot ceiling, a brazier on either side of the entrance, a carpet on the floor featuring a swirling image, and a similar image painted on the ceiling. In the swirling image, creatures could be seen trying to swim against the current. Those on the carpet were familiar creatures, whilst those on the ceiling were creatures neither of them had ever seen before. The walls were painted in a now faded red. On the walls to the left and right of the entrance were tapestries, the one on the left depicting animal-headed humans staring blankly towards the chamber, the one on the right a banquet scene with animal-headed creatures fighting for scraps. Opposite the door stood an altar made of blood-red marble, etched with symbols matching those from the entrance, upon which lay a jumble of objects neither of them had ever seen, and to the left and right of it candelabras with six candles, five of them black and one red. Kho Rimbo lit the red candle, which gave off pink smoke that gathered on the right-hand tapestry. There seemed to be a secret passage here.

Heinrik picked up the red candle, thinking it might come in handy at some point. The two followed a narrow corridor into a room containing a pool full of rainbow fish and another monkey’s head with a keyhole in its nose, though the black key didn’t fit. The pair continued their exploration and found, in an adjoining room, a mosaic of black obsidian and white basalt that looked like one of the symbols from the start. Without hesitation, Kho Rimbo ran into the centre of the mosaic, whereupon the stones rose up and pierced and shredded him like thousands of tiny knives, until only a cloud of red dust remained. “Well,” thought Heinrik, “that escalated quickly.” “Better him than me,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. Heinrik, now without Kho Rimbo’s lamp, cast his light spell and returned to the candelabras to collect a few candles at least as a emergency light source once his spell wore off.

He retreated further into the room with the serpent columns and heard a hissing voice behind him. With the help of the red candle, he managed to find another secret passage, which he opened in a flash and closed behind him to bring himself to safety from whatever was the source of the hissing. Behind the secret passage was a staircase. As soon as he reached the bottom, everything suddenly spun round again and Heinrik landed hard on his back in the old magician’s cellar, who laughed long and loudly. He went on at length, praising Heinrik and Kho Rimbo, who was also back in the cellar unharmed, for the fact that although the two of them weren’t the quickest, they were the most annoying to his fellow magicians. The two of them had particularly annoyed the old chromatic wizard Moss. This seemed to have been more important to the old bastard than winning…

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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Alaric Human Paladin level 3 Big, doe eyed country boy with wavy blond hair and willingness to do the right thing. Paladin of Tyr.
Ambros Human Cleric level 7 Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Beorg the Gravedigger Human Fighter level 5 Inspired to adventure after burying several adventurers.
Ignaeus Elf Fighter level 4 / magic-user level 5 A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Jacob Vin Human Assassin level 3 Slick black hair, inconspicuous dress, youthful for his age, and of keen instincts.
Kenso San Human Fighter level 4 An arrogant and self-assured sellsword wandering Wilderlands to prove he can best anyone.
Tam o' Shanter Human Cleric level 4 A boisterous wine-lover of Losborst on a Great Crusade of the Grape.
Tarkus the Promising Human Cleric level 5 Follower of Bachontoi, God of Red Wisdom.
Thorinda Bung Human Monk level 3 She has blonde hair done up in a tight pony tail and wears light, loose suit.
Thorm Dwarf Fighter level 4 / thief level 5 Ashen hair, beard, and eyes. Left his own clan due to financial trouble.
Warmund Abendeurer Human Fighter level 1 A burly blonde barbarian; Wilbalt's older brother and the stronger of the two.
Wilbalt Abendeurer Human Fighter level 1 A burly blonde barbarian; Warmund's younger brother and a better swordsman of the two.

Coldrain 2nd, Waterday

“Begone, Evil!” Ambros thundered.

Wight that sucked Agathon dry turned to dust, carried away by the underground stream.

“Chop him up, quick!”

Kenso cut off Agathon's head. Ignaeus loped off the leg.

The corpse contorted and jerked, throwing itself at Kenso.

The boy, even in death, strived to best his master.

Kenso slashed accross the torso, and then drove the dragonblade into the heart. Corpse formerly known as Agathon ceased to move.

Adventurers completed the dismemberment. Then they chucked the body parts into the stream, casting them into the watery oblivion.

“So, uh... who will swim accross to fetch that bag of coins?”

“Screw it! I'll do it!”

Tam volunteered. He stripped off his armour. He elected to keep chemberpot on his head. Adventurers tied a rope around his waist, not neck, and he jumped into the chilly stream.

He was promptly speared and cut by three troglodytes that happened to be diving there at that time. One of the foul reptiles hurt him good; spears were wickedly barbed and did more damage while coming out than when coming in.

As Tam screamed and cried in pain trogs went limp and were carried away by the stream. Ignaeus had put them to sleep. As well as Alaric. They dragged Tam out, who in turn jumped at the elf, gave him a big hug and a sloppy, sloppy kiss. Ignaeus regretted his decision to save the man.

Freshly awoken Alaric volunteered to go instead of half-dead Tam. Young and strong, he too took off his armour. How else could he swim across? As before, a rope was tied around his waist. And as before, he jumped into the stream. This time it was not swimming reptiles.

No, it was a gang of skeletons approaching the party from behind. Little did they know how divine divine Ambros is. They were turned to dust.

Alaric succesfully retrieved a sack with five hundred gold pieces.

The party decided to exit the dungeon and rest before continuing. It was well past midnight by the time they were out.

Coldrain 3rd, Earthday

“Hail and well met!”

Around noon the party was joined by Tarkus the Promising, Beorg the Gravedigger, Jacob Vin, Thorinda Bung, Warmund and Wilbalt Abendeurer. Now counting twelve adventurers in total, they were confident about hitting the deepest level of Castle Yukanthur.

Or so they thought.

Whilst passing through the first level, five giant ticks fell from above. Although the adventurers were not surprised, the ticks were right in their midst.

With their thick carapaces, giant ticks had proven to be more of a nuissance than a real threat to adventurers. Still, several of them got bitten, sucked, and potentially, diseased. It remains to be seen. Warmund and Jacob suffered the most, nearly dying in the process.

Alaric killed two, Kenso cut one in half, Tarkus smashed one, and Tam used his jug to crush the final one.

Moving on, they ran into six pig-faced orcs. Neither side was surprised. Beorg unleashed hell upon them, skewering four in total. Ignaeus and Kenso barely managed to kill one each.

From then on they moved forth unopposed. Once on the second level, they went into the fireblasted chamber, courtesy of Ignaeus, then south, then north in the domed chamber with fire, got perplexed and frustrated once more, went out north, then east into the hydrchamber, then north, left, and then right down the long stairs.

It is worth noting that there was an ongoing conversation if they should use stairs or one of the pit traps leading down. Stairs, as might be obvious by now, had won the popular vote.

Deeper level, at last.

Twelve of adventurers, carrying three torches and one lantern, stood little chance of surprising anyone or anything. Let alone a wall.

A t-junction split left and right. To the left was a large rectangular chamber with grimy, stained, and spent flagstones. The right was a fifty foot long corridor terminating with a right turn. Midway were open doors, hanging to the side. Torchlight flickered from beyond. Silent weeping and sobbing could be heard.

Feeling heroic, adventurers rushed towards it.

The doors were hanging by the hinges. Wood appeared to be damaged as if by some strong acid. The chamber beyond was rectangular. In the middle of it stood a man dressed in robes and a pointy hat. He held torch in on hand, and waved the other towards north-east corner. His face was red and puffy, tears streaming down.

In the corner was a half-dissolved man dressed in bubbly leather armour. He was engulfed by transparent and shimmering liquid. Magic-user spoke some words and a spear of light flew from his hands and into the mass.

Ignaeus recognised the spell as a varian of Magic Missile. He joined in, and cast teh same spell at the ooze. Beorg cast his own spell, “military oil,” vapourising the ooze as well as the man engulfed.

Then he took a deep whiff and grunted “I love the smell of military oil in the morning. It is the smell of victory.”

Ambros approached the man while others spread out to investigate the chamber. It was forty-five by thirty feet, with exit to the south and west. Besides one dissolved corpse in the north-east corner, there was another by west doors. This one was dressed in half-corroded plate mail, holding onto a heavy mace. Next to it was an intact gold chalice.

“You can help yourself to it, after all you have saved my life.” the man generously offered. He introduced himself as Diocletian Farseer, a man capable of seeing far. “We have been delving for hours. I said we should go back, but no, they were “oh come one, just one more doors, just one more.” And then we ran into this ooze which just wrecked my dear friends. Horrible. Horrible.”

He agreed to join the party for a part of his share. There is safety in numbers.

As adventurers discussed, the bottom of west doors begane to sizzle and bubble.

“Oh, no—” Diocletian screamed “—not again!”

Thorinda, Kenso, and Beorg dispatched of the ooze before it became a threat. They were apparently much more capable then two men Diocletian had adventured with.

“Let's move on.”

Pushing through west doors led to the aforementioned rectangular chamber with grime caked flagstones, albeit from the north side.

There were five exits from this chamber: corridors to the north, east, and south, mined tunnel to the west, and a tunneled crawlsspace to the south-west. On the south wall was etched drawing of a circle with a squiggly line.

Adventurers entered reluctantly. Thorm, being a dwarf, elected to study the west tunnel. It was most definitely hewn. Narrow, but wide enough for a single file. It obviously, well, obviously to a dwarf, at least, slopped downwards. Entrance to it was flanked by numerous bone fragments.

Crawlspace in the south-west corner was barely wide enough for one person to crawl through. It was not particulalry high, and one would need to go all the way on their belly.

“Hey, look at that...”

Alaric shone his bullseye lantern down the south corridor.

Two red gems shone in the dark, just beyond his range. Moving forward revealed the horror—a baleful dead with bright-red gaze.

Alaric the Brave charged forth, only to be checked by two more undead waiting in the darkness. Kenso, Thorm, and Beorg backed the paladin, following him into the fray.

Ambros turned the furthest undead, since that was the only one whom had witnessed his holy symbol. Thorm destroyed one with a series of blows. Kenso felt the chilly touch of one. He felt weaker, as if drained. Luckily for him, the undead broke of its grip in the overwhelming presences of Ambros and Tarkus.

Alaric, Wilbalt, Thorm, Ambros, Kenso, Tarkus, and Ignaeus stood in what looked to be an anthechamber of sorts. There were doors to the west, “VERMIN” scribbled over them. That is where the undead whom had drained Kenso fled. There was archway leading south. That's where the first undead had fled to.

Diocletian, Jacob, Thorinda, Beorg were just behind, in the corridor connecting this chamber and the rectangular chamber with five exits. Tam and Warmund were in that chamber, keeping watch.

They were not twelve anymore. They were thirteen now.

Will that be enough to survive the depths of Castle Yukanthur?

Poster by Lord Jubalon Flux.

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rootring
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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Alaric Human Paladin level 3 Big, doe eyed country boy with wavy blond hair and willingness to do the right thing. Paladin of Tyr.
Ambros Human Cleric level 7 Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Ignaeus Elf Fighter level 4 / magic-user level 5 A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Kenso San Human Fighter level 4 An arrogant and self-assured sellsword wandering Wilderlands to prove he can best anyone.
Tam o' Shanter Human Cleric level 4 A boisterous wine-lover of Losborst on a Great Crusade of the Grape.
Thorm Dwarf Fighter level 4 / thief level 5 Ashen hair, beard, and eyes. Left his own clan due to financial trouble.

Coldrain 1st, Airday

First day of winter brought some relief to Altanian heat. But not much. The days were now shorter, with only two watches of daylight.

Party of seven reached the ruins of Castle Yukanthur by mid-noon. Ambros, Ignaeus, Alaric, Thorm, Tam, Kenso, and Stag Beetle, Agathon's new moniker given to him by his master.

It's been nearly two months since they've been to the ruins. There were few traces of the Great Goblin Genocide left. Most of the corpses have rotted away; their flesh and bones consumed by the wildlife and carrion eaters.

Adventurers descended, led by Kenso. Stag Beetle was right next to him, serving as a dedicated doorbasher. They navigated through the first level, unopposed. Ignaeus and Ambros would sporadically explain various secret passages, traps, and similar, to Thorm, and Alaric, whom were here for the first time.

Once they reached the second level, party moved to their right, through secret sliding doors, then north, then left. They explored a chamber with barrels and crates filled with worthless junk. They passed stairs leading down and moved onwards to the T-junction.

Chamber to the left was lined with warped and bowing shelves spanning full width of west, south, and east wall. Ignaeus felt something was off. Alaric pulled on the brass candlestick on the west shelf. Doors opened behind. Stag Beetle was summoned once more, this time to break through the shelves so the passageway could be accessed.

Young bull happily obliged. He was still embarrassed by Kenso beating his ass back in Ironburg. Agathon was a rather slow learner.

Following the corridor led to another dead end. Ignaeus once more found the secret switch. This led them to a clean, twenty by twenty room. A bed, stool, and a locked chest were in the north-east corner.

Tam peeked under the bed. He took the chamber pot and put it on his head. He ignored a pair of slippers. Thorm spotted a lever to the left of the bed. Then he spent three hours disarming the needle trap in the lock and picking it open.

In the meantime Ambros and Ignaeus managed to activate a pit trap by the south-west exit. The fell down a ten feet deep pit and got impaled on several iron spikes. Alaric pulled both out.

“Take them all out! But with the tip of your blade!”

Tam advised Thorm. Thus the dwarf took out several robes, pointy hats, and blankets out of the chest. Few survived his handling. Casting Detect Magic only confirmed the mundane nature of items at hand. At least there were 300 gold pieces and one ivory comb at the bottom.

Adventurers left the same way they came in and returned to the chamber with many shelves. Agathon pulled the doors wide open. A swarm of fat stirges completely surprised the party, dive bombing them without mercy. Both Ambros and Agathon dropped their weapons.

Five out of twelve monsters hit their target. It took adventurers several tense rounds to get rid of the pests. Thorm dispatched three, Kenso two, and Tam one before Ignaeus retreated into the corner and put them all to sleep—including Agathon, Alaric, and Tam.

Party moved further north. Agathon broke through yet another doors. This time it was the monsters that were completely surprised! Six filthy-looking, lizard-like humanoids slept on foul straw-mats. They were slain with extreme prejudice. Given the overbearing stench of these foul creatures, adventurers promptly moved on.

They wandered the long corridors; they explored a natural cave adjoining one of the chamber with broken wall. This, they theorised, must be the cave with underground river some of them had fallen in months ago. Circular opening on the cave ceiling would certainly suggest so.

Having adventured for now nearly three watches non-stop, they could feel the weariness and tiredness kicking in. After brief discussion, they decided to retreat above ground, find a safe spot to rest, and then return the next day.

Indeed, they did so. Seven zombies they encountered were no threat. Ambros turned six to dust, while Tam turned the sole survivor.

Once out, they spent couple of hours looking for a perfect camping spot.

Coldrain 2nd, Waterday

It was way past midnight by the time adventurers had established the camp. Winter, even in Barbarian Altanis, means the days become shorter. Morning and noon watches are the only ones when there is sufficient daylight to travel the wilderness.

But our adventurers had to rest well. In other words, by the time they were ready for the second delve it was already night again.

“What does it matter? It is dark inside anyway.”

Kenso took the lead again. This time he was a bit less focused and led the party astray several times. He eventually got them to the second dungeon level. And then he led the party straight into ghoul ambush.

Being at the vanguard meant that he received the brunt of ghoul onslaught. Luckily for him, they failed to eviscerate him before Ambros made his holy presence known. Alaric watched the Cleric of Aniu and Forseti with great admiration. He was barely aware of Tam's existence. Ignaeus and Thorm each killed one ghoul as they fled.

Adventurers continued exploring the unknown. They went down the slanted corridor, through the chamber with an open pit, and then further north. This was yet another cave with underground river.

Ignaeus, Tam, and Ambros had recognised this peculiar cave. It was the one they had crawled out from after falling through the trap on the above floor. Ambros remembered that he had left behind hundreds of gold pieces on the small surface straight across the river.

“Who will swim across? I am happy to hold the rope?”

“I will go.” Agathon spoke up after deafening silence. “But I will keep half of the coin from that sack!”

“That is fair.”

Agathon approached the river bank, ready to dive in.

A wight broke through the water surface, grabbed Agathon's head, and drained him of his life.

Stag Beetle didn't even have time to scream.

Adventurers, on the other hand, were quite vocal.

“A wight?!”

“Quick, decapitate him before he rises!”

“Dispel Evil! Dispel Evil!”

Will they go quiet, too?

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

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A zine chronicling the Conquering the Barbarian Altanis D&D campaign.

This issue details sessions 106, 107, 108, 109, and 110

Adventurers escape from trouble and then run into new trouble—because that is what adventurers do!

You can download the issue here.

Overlord's Annals zine is available as part of the Ever & Anon APA, issue 11:

#Zine

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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Ambros Human Cleric level 7 Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Beorg the Gravedigger Human Fighter level 5 Inspired to adventure after burying several adventurers.
Ignaeus Elf Fighter level 4 / magic-user level 5 A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Jacob Vin Human Assassin level 2 Slick black hair, inconspicuous dress, youthful for his age, and of keen instincts.
Kenso San Human Fighter level 4 An arrogant and self-assured sellsword wandering Wilderlands to prove he can best anyone.
Tam o' Shanter Human Cleric level 4 A boisterous wine-lover of Losborst on a Great Crusade of the Grape.
Tarkus the Promising Human Cleric level 5 Follower of Bachontoi, God of Red Wisdom.
Thorinda Bung Human Monk level 3 She has blonde hair done up in a tight pony tail and wears light, loose suit.

Redleaves 8th, Earthday

The baleful dead—hissing, growling, and whining—lunged at Agathon the Promising who stood in its path. The dead was fleeing from the combined divinity of Ambros and Tarkus, but was unable to proceed for the young Dung stood in its way.

“Move like a willow and get out of its way!”

Kenso, his master, yelled. Young man obliged and dodged the onslaught for the fourth time. Then he jumped back, pivoted, and retreated to the large square chamber where Tam, Jacob, and Thorinda were fighting a skeleton horde.

He arrived just as a dozen of skeletons tore through Jacob and Tam. Assassin was shredded to strips. One of the skeletons backhanded Tam so hard that the drunk was knocked unconscious. Agathon jumped in and swung his spear wildly, destroying several skeletons.

Thorinda, weak and wise, crawled back, shining the light on the horde, letting Agathon do the work. She saw horrible figure fleeing past her, down the long corridor to the north. She did nothing to try to stop it.

“Begone!”

Tarkus came after it, brandishing an open book, the holy symbol of Bachontoi. He dusted four. Soon there were no more of them.

Adventurers dragged the wounded close to the demon mural chamber. Ambros remained with them to watch guard in case any more undead approach.

Beorg, Kenso, and Ignaeus entered the chamber. They pushed on the concealed flagstone. Doors to the secret treasure room opened. Three iron chests, a longbow, a quiver of arrows, and an empty jeweled scabbard were still there, waiting patiently.

Kenso and Ignaeus remained by the open secret doors. Beorg entered. The chests were locked, each with a hefty iron padlock. He took out his shovel. He raised it high above his head. Then he swung it down with all his might, shearing off the padlock.

Beorg now stepped behind the chest. He gingerly held the lid and pulled it up. Hissing sound could be heard as noxious gas gushed all around, filling the treasure chamber and spilling out into the room with the mural.

Gravedigger's veins bloated and turned black, as the fighter died in agony. Ignaeus fared no better, his delicate elven skin turning purple. Kenso took a whiff, but only suffered excruciating pain, as if ghouls rended his lungs, string by string.

Once the gas cleared out, Kenso approached the open chest confidently. Curled and curdled Beorg lay behind it. A great helm of polished black steel and with silver lining running along the axe beak top rested on soft cloth. Next to it was a sword with hilt in the shape of dragon wings, resting in a sheath of red leather. Kenso took both. The broadsword wooshed through the air, obviously of excellent make and with magical properties. Great helm was magical too, for Kenso immediately realised he can see into the dark corners as if they were lit up.

While Kenso was looting, Ambros was healing. He raised Beorg from the dead, much to the gravedigger's regret, and then raised Ignaeus too, expending a scroll in the process.

At this moment half of the party has suffered great trauma and were at the risk of perishing from a single attack or any great exertion. Thus, they made the decision to pick up the two remaining chests and open them in the safety of Ironburg. Agathon the Strong carried one chest, while the other one was carried by Wilbalt and Ambros.

Adventurers trudged through the dungeon, significantly slowed down. It took them hours to reach the exit. Alas, it was not meant to be without any trouble whatsoever.

As they turned the corner towards antechamber with the illusory wall, they faced a gang of pig-faced orcs. The beastmen were ready, having seen and heard them way ahead of the time. They were in tight formation, front rank with scimitars, and back rank with spears.

Ambros and Kenso advanced, meeting them in the room. The latter danced through porcs, slaying three in the process. Thorinda followed, but was check with another group of orcs hiding to the side. Ignaeus, whom had just been brought back to life and was as strong and as resilient as a new born baby, rushed other aid. He was promptly speared through his gut, rending him completely useless and nearly killing him, once again. Kenso continued his deadly dance, slaying five in total. Thorinda managed to kill two, too.

Redleaves 9th, Fireday

The party finally managed to exit the dungeon. It was night. All members were wounded and exhausted. Still, they marched out in the wilderness, seeking a safe place to camp and rest. They found it by sunrise.

They agreed on the following watch rotation. Thorinda and Tarkus were to take the noon watch, Ignaeus evening watch, Kenso night watch, Jacob midnight watch of the next day, and Beorg the pre-dawn watch.

They opted for cold-camp, to avoid attracting any unwanted attention.

Redleaves 10th, Spiritday

Jacob woke Beorg up. It was his turn. Experienced gravedigger stretched, still a tang of regret of being brought back to life lingering on his tongue, and immediately noticed something was off with Tarkus.

The cleric of Bachontoi was way too still. Beorg approached his comrade. He was dead! His throat was slit wide open. He look calmed—there were no signs of struggle nor any other violence. Sans the gaping wound, that is.

Beorg and Jacob woke everyone one up. Torches and lanterns were soon lit. Jacob, being a professional assassin, studied the wound. It was made most definitely by a sharp weapon. Could be a dagger, could be a sword. It was difficult to say. There were no signs of any poison or venom.

There were no rivulets of blood anywhere around. Even though there was no ranger in the party, it was still easy to follow trails from and to Tarkus. They led to the watch post where all of them were rotating during the day.

“Did one of us do it...” Beorg wondered out loud. “Everyone present your weapons!”

Slowly adventurers showed their weapon, one by one. When Kenso took out his newly acquired Dragon sword, there was fresh blood on it. And there was blood in his dragonskin sheath too.

All hell broke loose. Ignaeus tried to cast web at the warrior. Kenso was quicker. He lunged forward and cut the elf down without holding back. Still reeling from shock, Beorg and Ambros threw themselves at possessed Kenso. Jacob kept to the side, aware of his predicament. Maybe the warrior would spare his life?

For whatever reason, Kenso decided that Thorinda was his next biggest threat. That proved to be partially true as he failed to cut through her defenses and dodged. But it was Agathon whom was his final undoing. Young man swung the spear high above his head, and then struck Kenso with the butt-end of the shaft. The blow was so strong it dented the black great helm and knocked Kenso unconscious.

A spirited discussion followed. What happened? What should happen next? Jacob proposed taking the helmet off with a sharp device, potentially decapitating Kenso in the process. Agathon straight out advocated for killing him.

Ambros knelt and removed the helmet with his hand. Then they stripped Kenso of everything, leaving him in nothing but soiled loincloth. Then they hogtied him so he couldn't move a single limb. Thorinda suggested to tie the rope around his neck, but Ambros said no.

Lama of Aniu and bishop of Forseti raised Ignaeus for the second time this week. Elf was throughouly wrecked, for returning to the living is a traumatic experience that takes toll on both constitution and charisma.

Adventurers slapped Kenso back to his senses. The man glared with angry eyes. Suspecting something foul must be at work, Ambros cast Remove Curse. It was the right call as it drove whatever evil spirit possessed the disgraced warrior. The only think Kenso could remember is taking his night watch and then dozing away. His head throbbed with pain. But pain would pass. Shame, shame was eternal. In Karak, an empire to the far East which Kenso hails from, he would be expected to commit ritual suicide or face the extermination of his whole clan due to great shame he had brought upon himself.

The party trudged back to Ironburg.

After taking a little break, few of the adventurers found a secluded place to experiment with the iron chests. They walked for nearly an hour to ensure a whiff of wind does not accidentally carry the poison gas to Ironburg—an unusual level of care for this company—before breaking them open. They did so by dropping them from height and running away. Thousands and thousands of gold pieces flew out.

Kenso, meanwhile, sat at the Hog's Head inn. It remains to be seen if he had left his culture behind when he left home...

Poster by Lord Jubalon Flux.

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rootring
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Into the Majestic Fantasy Realms: The Northern Marches by Robert Conley, the spiritual successor to the Wilderlands of High Fantasy, is now available from DriveThruRPG.

It is a sandbox fantasy setting perfect for hexcrawl games, with numerous settlements, factions, bespoke encounter tables, and plenty of space to insert own adventures, locales, and flair.

Rob went to great lengths to support busy Judges:

  • guidebook to the Northern Marches (not just PDF, but also in markdown format for those who want to adapt the setting for their specific world)
  • reference PDFs for encounters, travelling, merchant adventures, and rumours
  • 4 campaign maps for the Judges
  • 4 campaign maps for the Players
  • combined campaign maps for the Judges
  • combined campaign maps for the Players
  • maps available as layered PDF and SVG for those who wish to tweak and customise them
  • 5 town maps for Judges
  • 5 town maps for Players
  • custom heraldry (for 41 factions!)

And all of that released under Creative Commons.

See below to get a feeling for the material:

Northern Marches Player map
Guidebook table of contents
Realms and heraldry
Castle Westguard Judge map
Hex entries in the Wild North
Random encounters in the Northern Marches

Important notice: while both book and associated maps are available as POD from DriveThruRPG, the latter are usually too expensive for non-USA customers. That is because DTRPG prints maps in the USA, which results with high shipping and taxes, for a high final price despite low per-unit cost. Rob has made the print-ready map files available so everyone can take them to their local print shop and get the maps done in any size they want for a low price.

#News #OSR #MFRPG

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rootring
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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Ambros Human Cleric level 7 Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Beorg the Gravedigger Human Fighter level 5 Inspired to adventure after burying several adventurers.
Ignaeus Elf Fighter level 4 / magic-user level 5 A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Jacob Vin Human Assassin level 2 Slick black hair, inconspicuous dress, youthful for his age, and of keen instincts.
Kenso San Human Fighter level 4 An arrogant and self-assured sellsword wandering Wilderlands to prove he can best anyone.
Tam o' Shanter Human Cleric level 4 A boisterous wine-lover of Losborst on a Great Crusade of the Grape.
Tarkus the Promising Human Cleric level 5 Follower of Bachontoi, God of Red Wisdom.
Thorinda Bung Human Monk level 3 She has blonde hair done up in a tight pony tail and wears light, loose suit.

Redleaves 8th, Earthday

Tam laid on the cold dungeon floor; his muscles stiff and paralysed. Four ghouls vied for his tasty, juicy, grape-infused, flesh. Luckily for his Tarkus was divine enough to force the beasts to flee.

Having forced the undead into retreat, the adventurers regrouped at the t-junction. Ambros and Ignaeus joined them, having just arrived. Dung, formerly known as Agathon the Promising, and Wilbalt were relegated to carrying Stiff Tam.

Adventurers moved north, then left, and stopped at the doors. Corridor continued further right, connecting to the room with the gilded spider.

Forcing the door open resulted with another clash with esurient ghouls. Tarkus and Ambros spread their divinity upon the dead; Thorinda and Kenso each slayed one of the dead. Jacob, on the other hand, felt the cold claw of the dead, ending as stiff, if not stiffer, than Tam o' Shanter. Kenso killed one more, and others fled through the south doors.

By the west wall rested a wooden coffin on a bier. Ignaeus and Beorg inspected it. A single wrapped corpse that crumbled to dust after being frisked by the latter. Beorg collected some of the gravedust and rubbed it into his armpits. Then he took some more of it and added it to his satchel with squirming maggots.

South room had nothing but gnawed human remains. It connected to a corridor leading to the T-shaped junction where adventurers fought the undead.

Tam regained his facilities and was able to move on his own once more. Dung and Wilbalt were now tasked with carrying Jacob. Assassin stiffened up whilst holding bullseye lantern. The duo now pointed him in the direction of darkness, using him as human flashlight.

Party moved further north, then left past the gilded spider, then right to another t-junction. Right hand side led to the large chamber adjoining the sacrificial altar as well as another entrance into the spider chamber. Left hand path led to the hereto unexplored realms.

Thirty feet down were doors to the left; twenty feet on corridor to the right; another twenty feet down the corridor opened up into the chamber.

Blood-curling, heart-rending screams of pain and anguish could be heard from beyond the doors. Burping grunts and growls accompanied the screams.

Adventurers broke through the doors, weapons drawn. A dozen of orcs in a chamber, some thirty feet wide and fifty feet long, were torturing a child-sized creature. They were unsurprised.

Beorg came first, swinging his halberd. He skewered one orc and beheaded another. Kenso followed, decapitating two more. Ignaeus moved with elven grace, slaying four pig-faced beastmen. Beorg killed two more, offering them no grace. Others killed two more. The last two spawns of chaos fled through secret doors in the south-east corner.

Adventurers spread out. Some scavenged coins from slain orcs, some sought to help the victim of torture, and the elf sought secret doors in the corner.

Ambros knelt by what seemed to be a male gnome. He was stripped naked, bloodied and bruised. His fingers were mangled, his toes cut off. Both of his eyelids were severed. Gnome struggled to speak, so Ambros brought his to ear to mouth.

”... great treasure...” the gnome exhaled, barely audible “...chamber of painted walls!” he grunted, spitting blood. He was no more.

Ignaeus signaled to others that he had identified the portion of the wall that should swing open. This were a rather mundane secret doors. Party aligned behind him and readied themselves for a volley of arrows.

Initially the failed to push them open. On the second attempt, Ignaeus successfully forced them open, but Beorg lost his footing and stumbled straight in. He fell to the ground, amidst three dozen zombies savaging two orcs.

Before horrible (or delightful, depending on whom you ask) fate befell him, Ambros thundered and turned eight zombies to dust. Kenso and Tarkus moved in to help their ally. Remaining zombies turned around and attacked.

Tam was about to join as well, but he heard Dung call for help. North doors swung open and ten zombies limped in from the north. They almost tore Tam to pieces before they were turned back.

In the secret chamber Ambros kept dusting the zombies. Initial cockiness was replaced with slight worry as the cleric of Aniu and Forseti was dusting only one undead per round. Kenso was nearly rended to death before Ambros finally had proper divine intervention and turned a dozen of remaining dead to dust.

Adventurers exhaled as they just beat back nearly fifty zombies. Clerics healed the wounded—with more or less success—while others secured the chamber.

Party decided to investigate the secret chamber. It was empty, but did join to a very long corridor. Following it led to a dead end. Ignaeus investigated until he found another secret doors. The mechanism was the same as before—simple concealed swing doors.

“What!”

“We went up!”

Adventurers emerged in a thirty by thirty chamber on the first floor of the dungeon. The one which was full of zombies. The one where they turned the undead and then fled, sorry, retreated from.

“Let's go back down, there is nothing much left on this floor.”

And so they went down the long corridor, into the tortured gnome chamber, and then back into the corridor. Passageway to the right bent left at an angle and continued straight as far as the Jacob-lantern could shine. Ignoring that route and heading straight into the chamber ahead led to ten zombies that were turned earlier.

Ambros promptly dusted half of them, while Tam turned the other half. The latter were then vanquished by other adventurers. The chamber had nothing of interest. By now Jacob has recovered from the ghoul's gentle caress and was able to point lantern without assistance.

Party continued west, reaching a corridor going north and south. They opted to explore the latter. This led them to iron-bound doors.

“Dung!”

Kenso found one thing Agathon the Promising was truly promising at: forcing stuck doors open. As the youngest son of a blacksmith, Agathon had an iron grip and massive, functional, muscles. The boy got the doors open.

Before them was a chamber twenty feet wide and forty feet long. It was illuminated by two torches burning in sconces along south and north walls. All the walls were painted black. Heavy crimson curtain hung along the west wall.

Adventurers entered and spread out. Beorg poked the curtain. It swung open, as if on a spring, revealed a hideous demonic face painted on the wall.

Several of adventurers, best left unnamed, shattered in the face of such evil. They fled the chamber, shaking uncontrollably.

But that was not all.

Ambros felt that something more was off. At the corner of his eye he spotted shadows dancing! He turned around just in time as two living shadows attempted to jump him. Then he turned them with his awesome presence.

The shadow attempted to flee but were halted by Dung the Wide standing at the sole entrance into the chamber. To boy's credit, he did not cower nor flee. Ambros acted fasted and Dispelled Evil, vanquishing the shadows.

“Something is off here. I sense it.” Ignaeus's elven senses were tingling. There was something hidden in the chamber!

Several of the fleeers attempted to muster enough willpower to enter the chamber. Witnessing the demonic face completely broke Tam, Thorinda, and Jacob, rendering them completely unable to be anywhere close to the chamber. They stood around the corner, “watching our back.”

“Here!”

Ignaeus had detected the secret doors on the east wall. It was a subtle sliding mechanism operated by pressing a concealed flagstone. The elf pushed it down and felt a prick. Poison coursed through his veins. He survived, but suffered greatly.

Wall slid open.

A naked, hunched human, reeking of death and decay crouched in the middle of a twenty by twenty chamber. Wild hair barely concealed his baleful gaze. The monster growled as Ambros held forth his Gold Gavel of Justice.

Adventurers' eyes grew big as they eyed three iron chests by the east wall. Above each an item hung: a longbow, a quiver of arrows, and a broadsword in jewelled scabbard.

The hateful dead retreated behind one of the chests. Ignaeus shoot it, but it only growled backed. Kenso stood at the entrance of the chamber, blocking it.

Without anywhere to go, the monster lunged forth, but was turned back again. Adventurers backed off, creating space for the monster to exit the treasure laden secret chamber. It did so.

Ambros summoned natural light through Continual Light, forcing the undead the flee. But Dung was still at his old post, straight in the way of the undead! Either too brave or too stupid to step aside, he faced the monster.

Vile monster lunged at Agathon, but young boy dodged just in time and avoided fate worse than death. From now on it was all chaotic.

Tam, Jacob, Thorinda, and Wilbalt fled north, back into the room where they fought ten zombies. There they ran into nineteen skeletons. Tam turned four. Remaining fifteen closed in and ripped into the four adventurers.

Ignaeus took out his broke Volmorin's scimitar, a magical sword. Which was now nothing but a hilt and small jagged edge. Kenso closed in, well aware that there is little he could do but act as a distraction.

Beorg ran into the treasure chamber, pulled the sword on the wall out of its scabbard, felt like it was the best blade ever that he should never let go of, and rushed to face the dead.

Tarkus held up his holy symbol, but undead had nowhere to flee but through Agathon. Ambros rushed to the secret chamber, hoping to find something that can be used to vanquish the beast.

Agathon, dodged, and parried, and ducked. He escaped death thrice. Will he be able to do so the fourth time?

Poster by Lord Jubalon Flux.

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#Wilderlands #SessionReport

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rootring
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Adventurers

Character Race Class Description
Tarkus the Promising Human Cleric level 5 Follower of Bachontoi, God of Red Wisdom.
Beorg the Gravedigger Human Fighter level 5 Inspired to adventure after burying several adventurers.
Thorinda Bung Human Monk level 2 She has blonde hair done up in a tight pony tail and wears light, loose suit.
Jacob Vin Human Assassin level 1 Slick black hair, inconspicuous dress, youthful for his age, and of keen instincts.
Kenso San Human Fighter level 4 An arrogant and self-assured sellsword wandering Wilderlands to prove he can best anyone.
Tam o' Shanter Human Cleric level 4 A boisterous wine-lover of Losborst on a Great Crusade of the Grape.
Wilbalt Abendeurer Human Fighter level 1 AA burly blonde barbarian; Warmund's younger brother and a better swordsman of the two.
Warmund Abendeurer Human Fighter level 1 A burly blonde barbarian; Wilbalt's older brother and the stronger of the two.

Redleaves 4th, Fireday

Fat stone lizard sat there, immovable. Its two large eyes—green gems—gazed upon woman prostrated beneath it, her belly exposed. Fire cackled in stone bowl.

Blood splattered the ground and walls as adventurers clashed with four vile creatures. Reptilian monsters excreted stench most foul and fought with wicked barbed spears.

Beorg hacked one with his halberd, while Kenso executed the other with two precise slices. Three more troglodytes joined the fray, rushing from the north.

At the same time, two burly blonde barbarians—Wilbalt and Warmund—arrived from the south.

“We are here to crush some skulls!”

Warmund, the bigger of the two, rushed to dame's rescue. He bowled his way through and stepped over her in order to fight. Ge was promptly stabbed and rendered unconscious.

Wilbalt, the younger of the two, was much more successful. He elected to ignore the scantily clad lady, and focused on crushing skulls instead. His focus paid of handsomely as he indeed crushed the skull of one troglodyte.

Kenso focused on the foul beast with glowing dagger. He splits its head in half, and then kicked the corpse away. Tam crushed another one.

Final monster suffered a humiliating death as Jacob slit holes in its back, and then pulled both of its kidneys through them.

“Just like they though me in the school for assassins!”

Adventurers heaved and retched from foul smelling corpses. They briefly scanned the room. Wilbalt took care of his brother, while Thorinda tended to the woman.

The woman introduced herself as Silugnia, Adept of Sinakad. She was captured when her adventuring party was vanquished by the troglodytes. Tam was suspicious of her and wanted to smash her. Thorinda said no.

Ignaeus noticed that something was off in the chamber—there ought to be secret doors or passageway somewhere. Taking a mental note of it, adventurers decided to proceed north, pushing through stuck doors.

Meme by Jan.

This led them to an empty chamber. Moving on they reached a turn and doors just before it. Bursting through faced them with four pig-faced orcs clad in chainmail and armed with scimitars.

With nowhere to run, the monster put up a desperate fight. Kenso was nearly hacked to death. Wilbur claimed first kill, followed by Tam. Tarkus soon followed, his hand guided true by Bachontoi. Jacob killed the last one, with a precise throat thrust with spear he had appropriated from the troglodytes.

Sweeping the chamber revealed fifty-eight golden pieces and little more of value.

“Hey, let's take their armour. It is quite difficult to get by chainmail in Ironburg...”

Indeed, the orcs were liberated of their armour quite rapidly.

Returning to the corridor, the party went north-east, reaching a T-junction. To the left were doors leading into a square chamber with broken through wall. Sounds of rushing water could be heard in the distance.

Straight ahead were doors and corridor turning further right. And slightly before the former was another T-shaped junction. At this moment adventurers decided to retreat to Ironburg. Two of them were badly injured, they had dazed Silugnia, and they were hauling a little bit of treasure.

Thus they backtracked, going back to the sacrificial room, then past the golden spider statuette, and straight into a band of ten zombies. Tarkus turned them without missing a beat. Adventurers decided not to pursue. Next was long chamber of the Ratmaster that was incinerated by Ignaeus, pass the doors with Arnulf's flayed face—”What an ugly fucker” Warmund muttered—and up the stairs leading to the first level.

From there they headed straight to the gnome chamber, and then north through double secret doors, then east into the many-doored chamber, through north-west doors, and then west, north, through illusory wall, and up the stairs.

Air was warm. Summer will be here soon. Night has already fallen by the time they left the ruins of Castle Yukanthur. They found a safe spot to rest some time after midnight. There they slept until evening. They reached Ironburg by nightfall.

Redleaves 8th, Earthday

A party of eight adventurers—Tarkus the Promising, Beorg the Gravedigger, Thorinda Bung, Jacob Vin, Kenso and his retainer Agathon the Promising, Tam, and Wilbalt—returned to the ruins.

Most of the goblin corpses have been picked clean to the bone. Those that did were liquefied, hosting thick, blubbery maggots as well as swollen flies. Beorg picked few of the nastiest maggots and put them in his pouch.

“How about we check the cave?” Tam suggested.

Just east of the castle, twenty feet below the ground level, was a cave entrance blocked by a large boulder. Weeks ago, when the adventurers had found freshly massacred goblins, they also found that they broke a hole through the boulder. At that time the hole was closed shut by dozens of goblins corpses jammed into it.

The hole was now mostly open. If one was willing to crawl through putrid, maggot-infested, and disease-ridden remains. Tam was the man.

He endured and crept through the hole. Smelly but alive he emerged into a spacious cavern. Shining the bullseye lantern to the right revealed two tunnels, one narrow and one wide. Shining it to the left revealed two adjoining caves. More goblin remains were in the cave. Tam could endure no more and he fled the cave.

“Let's go into the dungeon. That we know.”

Party followed by now well established route. Through the illusory wall, into the many-gated room, south-west, through square chamber with double secret doors, past the gnome statue chamber, and then follow the long corridor until the flail wielding statue.

There they ran into nineteen giant rats. Kenso the Ratkiller butchered eight, Beorg the Ratburrier skewered seven, and the rest were dispatched by others.

Party waded through the corpses and descended to second level. This time they turned left, into the unknown. This led them to a thirty by thirty chamber, bereft of anything worth noting except another exit. Following it led to a T-junction splitting north and west. The former connected to corridor leading to south-west entrance into the Ratmaster's lair. The latter led into the unknown.

From the unexplored darkness four ravenous ghoul came charging. They were promptly stopped by Tarkus's holiness. They cried and whimpered and fled for their unlife. Ten zombies pushed through, slumbering towards the party. As Tam turned them, another pack of ghouls came charging from the doors to the far west.

Zombies pivoted, fleeing the awesome divinity of Losborst's vicar. Ghouls, one the other hand, were unaffected. They tore through his defenses, rendering him stiff as a plank.

Kenso, Wilbalt, and Thorinda were now completely exposed. Jacob and Agathon were just behind them. Tarkus and Beorg, the mightiest and most powerful were at the rearguard. Will they have time to help, or will they witness their allies being eaten alive?

Poster by Lord Jubalon Flux.

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

#Wilderlands #SessionReport

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rootring
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Before the dawn of man ...

... there was a covenant between the land and the sea people – a covenant long forgotten by those who stayed on shore, but indelibly etched in the minds of others – the dolphins of Altair.

Now the covenant had been broken. Dolphins were being wantonly sacrificed in the name of scientific research, their waters increasingly polluted, their number dangerously diminished. They had to find allies and strike back. Allies willing to sever their own earthly bonds for the sake of their sea brothers – willing, if necessary, to execute the destruction of the whole human race ...

Margaret St. Clair's novels Sign of the Labrys and The Shadow People are cited in the Dungeon Master's Guide “Appendix N: Inspirational and Educational Reading.” I've read the former couple of days ago, and enjoyed it quite much. It was also fascinating seeing how much of it read like an old-school dungeon delve.

When I researched the author, I read that the latter, The Shadow People, is part of loose trilogy comprised of The Dolphins of Altair (1967), The Shadow People (1969), and The Dancers of Noyo (1973). Since all three are relatively short (~200 pages each), I decided to simply read them in publishing order.

Mild spoilers ahead.

The story is presented from the perspective of a psionic dolphin historian. He narrates how the sea people—dolphins—used Udra (psychic powers, similar to psionics in OD&D) to find and collaborate with three splits—humans—to flood the world.

The writing is punchy, especially in the first half. Everything moves fast, and I enjoyed the implicit writing style. There is action, there is a little bit of mystery, and there are surprises and turns. Some of the hallucinations / visions are quite trippy, which I liked as well.

The Dolphins of Altair is not listed in the Appendix N, so I did not expect any D&D tropes. There is a lot of psionics, and some of the techniques are well described. Only 1-in-100 000 are receptive to it; there are mentions of ESP. If this was an OD&D module or setting it would be labelled as gonzo for sure.

At its core, The Dolphins of Altair is an ecological doomsday book infused with psychedelic and psionics. I found it to be quite a quick and enjoyable read, and am looking forward to discovering how exactly it relates to The Shadow People.

#Reading #Fantasy #ScienceFiction

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rootring
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For years I've been seeing mentions of Margaret St. Clair's Sign of the Labrys and The Shadow People. Both appear in the “Appendix N: Inspirational and Educational Reading” of the Dungeon Master's Guide, and both are relatively obscure. I was always attracted to their covers, but was unable to just walk to the local library and borrow them.

Something had gotten into me yesterday, and I decided to hunt both down—in their ebook form. I am quite confident there was nothing special in the print version, besides beautiful covers that is, since they were plain small-sized paperback.

Few hours later, and I procured Sign of the Labrys (1963), The Dolphins of Altair (1967), The Shadow People (1969), and The Dancers of Noyo (1973) novels. According to St. Clair's Wikipedia page, the last three form some sort of loose trilogy. Their ebook covers are quite underwhelming so I downloaded the originals from the web instead.

I opened the Sign of the Labrys, “just to check it out,” read first few paragraphs, and realised I couldn't just put it down. I finished it in a couple of hours.

Mild spoilers ahead.

I greatly enjoyed the “implicit” writing style, atmosphere, and post-apocalyptic setting. Things are casually introduced without too much—or any—explanation, leaving it up to the reader to fill in the blanks.

The whole thing reads like an extended dungeon delve, with main character sometimes being alone, and sometimes allying with one or more individuals. Exploration is very focused on corridors, doors, chambers, and implied threat.

D&D tropes I noticed:

  • Character(s) travel down and up the tiered levels of a large subterranean complex.
  • It is explicit that deeper levels hold more resources than the upper levels but are also more dangerous.
  • Each level has “guardians” of various sorts.
  • Exploration is described by providing lengths of corridors, doors, and sizes of areas; almost reading like an example of play, and eerily similar to how I write in the session reports.
  • Secret doors and passageways that shortcut the dungeon levels or lead to secret areas with treasure.
  • Thematic dungeon levels: a workers' level, laboratory level, pleasure level, engine level, etc.
  • Factions: each level has at least one dominant faction, plus several smaller factions.
  • Spellcasting. Mostly illusory magic.
  • Main character levels up as he travels deeper. He also then has to spend time training to unlock new abilities.
  • There is a lot of resting.

Perhaps I read it too quickly, but I do not remember any single character that fits the description of hairy monster featured on the cover.

The novel didn't feel dated at all. In fact, a plague that make peoples' lungs fill with liquid, resulting them in choking to death, sounded very contemporary.

All in all, Sign of the Labrys was quite an enjoyable read. It was fascinating witnessing what might have contributed to Gary's view on dungeons and dungeon delving. I am very much looking forward to reading The Shadow People too.

#Reading #AppendixN #Fantasy #ScienceFiction

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rootring
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