Conquering the Barbarian Altanis: Session 135

July 10, 2025

Adventurers

Character	Race	Class	Description
Thorm	Dwarf	Fighter level 4 / thief level 5	Ashen hair, beard, and eyes. Left his own clan due to financial trouble.
Drokh	Human	Monk level 1	A tall, lean human monk with piercing eyes, weathered skin, and a warrior’s poise—calm and charismatic, he speaks with purpose and strikes with precision, wielding spear, bow, and blade.
Ignaeus	Elf	Fighter level 5 / magic-user level 4	A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Foxglove	Human	Thief level 6	A willowy human, long hair ties in a pony tail, looks a bit dangerous and dainty at the same time.

Flowerbloom 6th, Airday

Party of four adventurers—Thorm, Drokh, Ignaeus, and Foxglove—descended down the crooked, weathered stone stairs. Bright sun disappeared behind their backs, replaced by feeble torchlight. Young March, their freshly hired torchbearer, bravely followed them. Ignaeus took the lead and stepped into dank chamber filled with three inches of stale water.

Ignaeus and Thorm went to check corridor leading eastward, Drokh and Foxglove went to listen at doors on the west side, and March was ordered to stand in the center of the room.

Slithering, barely visible mass of goo assaulted the elven-dwarf alliance. It failed to surprise the duo. Dwarf hurled his axe at it, and then the elf finished the mass by driving Volmorin's Blade, his magical sword, into it. Ignaeus was wracked with pain as blade screamed in anguish. As ooze melted so did the sword rot and corrode.

The party came here to find young warrior that went missing a week or so ago. He supposedly came here with an adventuring party, seeking golden goblet filled with blood red rubies. Bounty for his body, dead or alive, was mere ten gold pieces. The party accepted nonetheless, for they wished to try out some of their new tactics before going for bigger, stronger opponents. Thus far they only managed to lose a magical weapon.

Dispirited, but not defeated, they opted to break through the west doors. That led them to a four-way junction, with doors to the west, and corridors to north and south. After failing to break through the doors, they decided to head south. This led them to another four-way junction, but this one led to doors in all three directions: west, south, and east.

Sticking to their pattern, they went for west doors once more.

“Wait! Listen!”

“Sploosh! Sploosh! Sploosh!”

Splashing sounds could be heard from behind the party—same route they came from—as if a dozen little steps were made on the water. Lo and behold, five ugly goblins came from around the corner, wielding crude war-hammers. Goblinoid fools overestimated themselves, and were promptly massacred.

“Oh!” March gasped as doors swung open behind him. Ten small creatures, bipedal midgets with dog heads, were arranged in a marching order. Five in front held short swords, while five in back held spears. They stared down the party, ready to drive them through.

March pulled his big-boy pants up, and held a torch like a boss. Ignaeus, still in the sour mood over losing his powerful magical sword, charged the kobold gang with righteous fury. He trampled them like little kids, slashing and beheading with ease. Thorm followed behind, slaying pathetic monsters with ease. Nine out of ten kobolds were killed in a single round. The remaining critter surrendered. He traded his gang's possession—five hundred and eighty seven electrum pieces—for his life. Thorm sparred him.

Kobold chamber looped back to the chamber adventurers couldn't break into. This was foul place where goblins had dwelt. Three hundred fifty seven electrum pieces were hidden among the wet rubble. The party then backtracked to the entry chamber and explored the eastern corridor. There they found a t-shaped junction splintering north and south.

North doors led into a rectangular chamber in which giant ferrets peacefully swam around. Mistaking them for giant weasels the party promptly slammed the doors shut and went for southern doors instead. There they heard buzzing, opened the doors, seen four giant bees, and then slammed these doors shut too.

Annoyed, they returned to the first four-way junction they had encountered, and followed the passageway north. They burst into a chamber. There they ran into two chimeric creatures—bare breasted females with vulture-like legs and long, leathery wings. Alarmed, they readied their weapons. Alas! Drokh and Foxglove were too slow—monsters unleashed their wonderful song, mesmerizing both of them.

“Freeze!” Ignaeus roared, pointing his corroded Volmorin's Blade at the harpies. Sword's presences was barely detectable, but it obliged its master. One of the foul beasts froze in place. Other resisted, but failed to do so the second time Ignaeus had used his blade. Adventurers made short work of the beasts, hacking them without second thoughts.

Forcing the west doors open revealed what the party was looking for. A young man, naked and bruised, chained to the wall. Before him a gold chalice rested on a rotting wooden crate.

“This looks like a trap.” Foxglove cautioned. He carefully approached the crate and investigated it. Nothing was off. Next he sneaked up to the chained man and broke the manacles. Young man was still breathing, but was unconscious. His wounds were showing signs of festering.

“This is no gold!”

Indeed, dwarven eyes were not fooled. This chalice was nothing but worthless pyrite. The party hauled young man out of the dungeon. They visited another chamber before leaving, but gave up after seeing a bunch of giant rats taking a bath. They returned to Hara by nightfall.

“Where is my chalice? Where is it! It was all for nothing! All for nothing!” young man cried, exasperated.

Attronarch's Athenaeum