Conquering the Barbarian Altanis: Session 175
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.
Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.
Subscribe to get the latest post in your inbox. No spam.
Comments
rootring
Prev · Random · Directory · Next