Conquering the Barbarian Altanis: Session 189
Adventurers
| Character | Race | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|---|
| Ainsley | Human | Ranger level 1 | A ranger. |
| Alaric | Human | Paladin level 4 | Big, doe eyed country boy with wavy blond hair and willingness to do the right thing. Paladin of Tyr. |
| Aurella | Elf | Fighter level 1 / magic-user level 1 | Exiled and chased out of her tree commune, she now wanders the Wilderlands. |
| Balarus | Human | Fighter level 4 | An ex-woodsman, quite a crack shot with his bow. |
| Ignaeus | Elf | Fighter level 4 / magic-user level 5 | An arrogant and self-assured sellsword wandering Wilderlands to prove he can best anyone. |
| Kenso San | Human | Fighter level 2 | An arrogant and self-assured sellsword wandering Wilderlands to prove he can best anyone. |
| Wilbalt Abendeurer | Human | Fighter level 3 | A burly blonde barbarian; Warmund's younger brother and a better swordsman of the two. |
Head of the pale undead recoiled as Ignaeus hit it with his magic arrow. It screamed it in anguish as Alaric stabbed it with his magical weapon repeatedly. Copper coins covering its chest exploded about the room as Balarus had chopped it in half with his magical battle axe.
The combat was over before it had even begun proper. Ainsley and Balarus made a brief introduction—the latter was a familiar face, having adventured with the company a year ago. The former was new to the region, and was learning fast by hiding in the corner.
Scouring the chamber produced nothing but several hundred copper pieces, meticulously collected by wounded Aurella, and a wicked looking broadsword resting by the lower half of the severed dead.
Its dragon-head pommel beckoned adventurers.
Ignaeus inspected it closely. Then he reached out and paused to feel any evil. Having felt none, he pulled out the blade. It was smooth and sharp. A fine blade, and a good replacement for his Volmorin's Blade that had been a stump for long time.
Adventurers, now counting nine in numbers, continued their exploration of the tumulus. After spending half an hour on deciding if the should go down the wet, earthy tunnel, or beyond the portcullis in the stony portion of the complex, that is.
They found their way out of the secret chamber, back into the chamber filled with foul foodstuffs, and then beyond the portcullis. Balarus, an immensely strong man, lifted the grates nearly on his own. Ainsley and Ignaeus assisted him, making this a truly effortless task.
“How should we jam them?”
“Anyone has a ten foot pole?”
“What about those crates?”
“Nah, they are soggy!”
Alaric resolved this impasse by walking into the chamber and pointing at the winch which operates the grates. They set it right, and the passageway remained open indeed.
Exploration continued. T-shaped junction splitting right and left. The latter bent right, the former led to another chamber. Thus, they had chosen left. Empty, nothing. Left through the archway, then right, left again and down the long corridor, past the doors that lead back into the foul chamber.
Then right, and right again, now facing a long, long corridor. Two doors on the right, one at thirty feet, another at eighty. Mid-way, on the left side, twenty feet wide double doors, arched and with a motif of young men ascending and becoming strong, with the strongest sitting on a wooden throne. The portal was mortared shut.
“Psshhh...”
Listening on the first doors to the right confirmed something was amiss. Animalistic grunts and squeals could be heard.
“We killed some goblins earlier...”
“Probably more...”
Balarus opened the doors with easer that parallels only Thorinda's.
Sixteen goblins inside the chamber were not surprised.
Neither were the adventurers.
Ignaeus and Balarus led the charge, each slaying four with ease and grace of heroes. Aurella, despite her wounds, slipped into the large chamber, and shot one goblin down. Kenso killed one too.
Wilbalt charged right behind Ignaeus.
As he had arrived, the elf turned around, foam dripping from his mouth. His eyes were completely bloodshot. Elf swung at the swordsman, but his blows failed to connect. Kenso smacked Ignaeus with the blunt side of his sword.
Strongman Balarus grappled Ignaeus. His iron grip was all for naught as the elf used his own strength against him, throwing him down to the ground. Balarus stood up, but dazed and stunned. Kenso hit Ignaeus once more, and the elf reciprocated by stabbing him through the gut. This, once arrogant Karakan, had be humbled once more, as it all went to black.
As this desperate skirmish unfolded, Alaric and Ainsley mopped up rest of the goblins. Then the paladin joined. He was promptly roped by Ainsley's improvised lasso. Seeing that Ignaeus is out of control, the paladin hit him hard, for real. He hit him again, nearly killing him. Then Wilbalt took the elf down with a might strike to the head.
They tied him tight.
Frisking the many corpses produced a hundred or so silver pieces. Aurella the Coin Collector had collected them all. Wilbalt took the locked wooden chest, reasoning that it would be safer to open it back in Ironburg. There were also seven pickaxes, four hammers, and three shovels. Most were left behind.
“It's time to leave!”
Resisting the urge to open one more doors, adventurers picked up tied Ignaeus, and messed up Kenso, and exited the tumulus. It was a starry night. Emboldened with the fact they have a ranger in their party now, they decided to follow the river and march during night.
After all, Ironburg was just two leagues away.
What could possibly go wrong?
Within an hour they ran into three elves that questioned Aurella about who she is, why is another elf all tied up, and what is going on. They were tremendously confused by Aurella's insistence on going to Ironburg, a backwater human excuse for a settlement. They were gone by the time she had returned with new questions form the party.
Once back, they put Ignaeus in their cellar and waited for the next day. Then they took him to the Old Crus's tower, where Ambros was hiding away. Lama of Aniu was perplexed. He cast remove curse and nothing had happened. He cast detect evil and nothing had happened.
They ungagged the elf, only to be met with growls and hisses.
“WHAT IS THIS PANDEMONIUM!” Crus croaked as he walked down the stairs “NO VISITORS! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO REPEAT THAT!” he yelled and bickered as he took a step at a time. The man was slower than the passage of time.
“Oh might Crus! I throw myself in your service if you can heal my dearest friend! He is stricken with such a great rage and we do not know what to do! We will pay you! I will wash the floors! Oh, help us!” It was reported Ambros said something along such lines.
Whatever the he might have said, Old Crus was stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at the cleric intently; eyes wide open.
“Oh, I have driven out the wrong one! Woe; me!” he cried out, exasperated, smacking his own forehead. “Are you not a high priest?! Is that not an evil object?! What do high priests do with evil?! They dispel it!” Old Crus turned around and went back up, swearing profusely.
Ambros cast Dispel Evil on the sword and it fell out of Ignaeus's hand. The elf fell asleep. Alaric wrapped the sword. Then he went to the baron and informed him of the expedition.
Others sat down and began planning a supply run to New Hara.
“One plate mail. Two chain shirts. Two shields. Ten leather armours. Ten spears. Five glaives. Ten slings. Ten short bows. Two hundred arrows. One broadsword. One bastard sword. Five shortswords. Two hundred and fifty feet of hemp rope. Two crowbars. Five backpacks. Ten large canvas sacks. Ten dried rations.”
“Oil! Don't forget military oil! Gallons of military oil!”
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