Attronarch's Athenaeum

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.
Drokh	Human	Monk level 2	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.
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.
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.
Syd Grundy	Human	Fighter level 3	Tall, middle aged and scruffy looking man of the wilderness.
Tam o' Shanter	Human	Cleric level 4	A boisterous wine-lover of Losborst on a Great Crusade of the Grape.
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 3rd, Earthday

“Where did they go?!”

“One fled south, another west, through the vermin door!”

“Come on, let's push further south, just to see what's there!”

Ambros, Ignaeus, Beorg, and Tarkus formed a rearguard.

Alaric, Thorm, Kenso, and Thorinda were the vanguard.

Wilbalt, Warmund, Tam, Jacob, and Diocletian were between the two.

Seventy feet long corridor prostrated beyond the antechamber. Twenty feet in was corridor to the east, at thirty feet was corridor to the west, and at seventy feet was a T-junction.

The vanguard advanced east. Breaking through and strolling forth revealed a sizeable chamber, some fifty by fifty feet. It was a tall, domed chamber, with an angled ledge running the will circumference of it.

Upon the ledge were three bare-chested, winged creatures. They cackled and unleashed their charming song. Within minutes all were under their spell sans Alaric and the rearguard.

Paladin of Tyr would've have surely perished protecting his allies, were it not for Ignaeus and his Sleep spell. All three harpies fell down with a thud; their spell broken, Kenso, Tam, and Alaric promptly executed them.

Most of the adventurers spread out to search the chamber. Besides dead monstrosities and three exits—to the north, south, and west—there was nothing else of notice.

“Huh?”

Alaric felt few drops of liquid on his shoulder. Unsure what to do, he contemplated what the source might be. The source fell on his head, and caked him completely. Paladin's chain shirt began rusting rapidly. As did his greatsword, spear, and handaxe.

Tam helped the paladin take of his chain shirt. Alas, in the process his plate got squirted, so it too rusted. Alaric threw his armour as far as he could. Transparent ooze consumed it.

The party fled.

As they passed through the second dungeon level, they ran into three troglodytes camping in the blasted chamber. Beastmen did not last long. Thorinda stabbed one straight through its eye and cranium. Kenso decapitated another. And Wilbalt cleave the last one in half.

Truly, an awesome display of power.

From then on, they moved unopposed, reaching the spiral staircase without much trouble.

Coldrain 4th, Fireday

It was well past midnight by the time the party of thirteen exited the dungeons of Castle Yukanthur. They had some treasure, no one died, and just a few limped. What a merry time.

“Hail. Well met.”

Adventurers stood still in front of the ruined castle. Just to their left, in pitch black, two men stood. They lit up a torch.

Both men were large. The bigger of the two was dressed in plate mail and wore a closed greathelm, concealing his face. The smaller of the two was dressed in chain shirt. He held up the torch. A silver sword hung from his necklace, something Alaric recognised immediately—the holy symbol of Tyr.

“I am Sig of Dostrogoths. And this–” pointing at the other man “–is Rupert Ironwill.”

Sig's armour was blemished and dented, but well fitting. Shield was on his broad back. A sheathed sword hung by his hip. His stance was relaxed. His voice confident.

Rupert's plate was no more polished than Sig's. His bell-shaped, thick-boned head was red, but his physiognomy did not match that of an average Altanian.

Adventurers, still unsure how to react, or whom to push forward, were mostly mute. They eventually scrambled and inquired the duo about their intentions.

“We have been waiting for you. Yes, we were hoping to catch you as you exit the ruins. We have been observing you for some time now. We are here to bring Ambros Ap Mortain to justice.”

“Who? We don't know any Ambros!”

“That man with golden gavel. That one right over there.” Sig pointed at Ambros.

“On whose orders would you do so?” Alaric asked.

“On the orders of Wizard-King Racoba.” Sig replied calmly.

At that moment adventurers broke out in angry cacophony, calling Racoba names, and rejecting any possibility of handing over their friend.

“You!” Rupert suddenly exploded, wagging his index finger at Alaric “How dare you, paladin of Tyr, debase yourself so! By associating with these scoundrels!”

But Alaric did not allow himself to be shaken. He rebuffed Rupert and restated how Ambros is a man of Law, and how these are good people.

This back and forth continued for some time. Adventurers demanded evidence; Sig and Rupert provided evidence; adventurers claimed this was one-sided and that they were fed propaganda by Racoba; Tam took out his manhood and peed all over himself; Rupert claimed they spoke with many people and corroborated the accusations.

Some of the adventurers called for violence, Sig reiterated his desire to avoid violence. The impasse was broken by Alaric's passionate plea “Ambros is the finest man I have ever traveled beside. I have watched him heal strangers without reward, risk his life for companions, and stand firm against darkness when others faltered. The charges laid against him seemed impossible.”

Silence followed.

A throbbing vein crossed Rupert's forehead.

Sig was rubbing an emerald between his thumb and index finger.

He turned to Rupert and nodded.

Bishop of Tyr nodded back.

“If you what you say is true, then I can offer the following. Rupert will cast Detect Evil. Should you pass, we will take you to Ironburg. There we will give Ambros a fair hearing. If we still believe him to be guilty, then we will take him to Hara and put all of you to blade. That is the best I can offer you.”

Few brief whispers, and adventures agreed.

“Lay down your weapons. We will escort you. No harm shall befall anyone in my presence.” and with that Sig raised his right hand, extending his index and middle finger.

Two dozen men approached from darkness, taking the adventurers' weapons.

And so they marched to Ironburg.

⁂

“Tell me, paladin” Sig spoke to Alaric “if we prove what we said is true, would you consider joining us? We could use a man of character like yourself.”

Alaric pondered the warrior's words. He had only one thing on his mind—prove that Ambros is innocent.

⁂

With sunrise came a new revelation. Sig's force counted nearly ten dozen men, all hardened warriors. They swiftly seized Ironburg, capturing Rall Kyle in the process.

“By the powers vested in me by the Wizard-King Klekless Racoba” Sig thundered “I accuse you, Rall Kyle, for unjust treatment of the kingdom's subjects, corruption, failing to deliver what you had been paid to do, stealing taxes from the kingdom, and treason. I shall judge you accordingly!”

And so the adventurers learned that Sig of Dostrogoths was the new baron of Ironburg. His men shared food with locals. Each family received one gold piece, a gift from the treasury of munificent Wizard-King. They were all fed-up with that drunkard Rall, and did not put up much of a protest.

Adventurers were returned their weapons.

“You are no prisoners. I do expect you to behave properly while in my domain.” Sig explained “Ambros will be held in the Kyle's house, together with Rall. Neither of them will be allowed to leave.”

Alaric hurriedly began brainstorming how to get his friend out of trouble.

Coldrain 6th, Airday

Drokh, Thorm, Kenso, Kho Rimbo, Wilbalt, Thorinda, and Syd arrived at the ruins of Castle Yukanthur by noon. They reasoned there isn't much they can do to help Ambros, so why not go on an adventure instead?

They spent rest of the day lowering Drokh down the well. He confirmed there was an underground stream at the bottom of it. Then they camped in the wilderness and enjoyed nice weather.

Winters in Barbarian Altanis are quite warm.

Coldrain 7th, Waterday

On the next day they found a thick branch, tied the rope around it, and then placed it on top of the well. With two hundred feet of rope in total, with tied knots for easier use, they were confident they could all descend without much trouble.

Everyone took off their armour, tied it into a bundle and then to the back. And so they rappelled down, one by one, releasing themselves into the cold water. Everyone swum to the east side.

This is where they recognised a hewn chamber, confirming the were indeed on the second dungeon level.

“Let's see what is on the other side!”

So they swam to the west. Another cave, another river section to get across. Yet another cave, but a massive one, stretching nearly hundred feet. Twenty feet broad tunnel slopped downwards to the west, while south side ascended in jagged elevations. At the end was a door in the cave wall, some ten feet off the ground.

Men fought to form a pyramid upon which loosely dressed Thorinda could stand upon, so she could force the doors open. Lo and behold, the doors revealed a corridor connecting to one of the longer corridors they have explored in the past. This was familiar terrain for the adventurers.

“Come on, let's take a look...”

Party formed ranks, and began the descent down the wide cave tunnel. Down and round, and round and down, they went. Ten minutes? An hour? Ten hours?

Difficult to say.

Stalagmites and stalactites made progress difficult. Width varied greatly, from thirty feet at its widest, and barely five feet at its narrowest.

“Look!”

Ahead of them was another hundred feet of descent, with five foot drops every ten to twenty feet. But ahead was a vast cave with natural stone columns supporting the ceiling, illuminated by sporadic balls of flame produced by burning natural gas.

Adventurers proceeded carefully, hugging the east wall. They passed many smaller tunnels, theorising these might be connected to other chambers. They spotted carbonised corpses on the west side. They also noticed there was an adjoining cave, but they couldn't see inside for it was roughly twenty feet above them. Cave columns were darkened at that height.

Cave to the north was at their level, so they went there. Inside was a pool of crystal clear water. A boulder with some inscription blocked path to the right. No one but Thorm could read the symbols.

“In memory of Legral Thorm, slayer of orcs and goblins.”

Thorm was shocked.

“Come on, let's get it out of the way and see what's there!”

With a little bit of effort and sweat grease, Thorinda, Thorm, and Kenso rolled the boulder aside. Beyond it was a narrow tunnel, barely enough to fit through in a single file.

Thorinda shone her light head.

A massive stone sarcophagus rested in the center of round cave. Its heavy stone lid was engraved with runes and geometrical patterns.

The cave was unnaturally cold.

Two pairs of baleful crimson eyes poked from behind the sarcophagus.

Two deformed, long dead, dwarven corpses climbed upon the sarcophagus.

And then they lunged at Thorinda.

Poster by Lord Jubalon Flux.

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

#Wilderlands #SessionReport

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