Conquering the Barbarian Altanis: Session 197

Note: this was an in-person session at the Cauldron convention, played by 23 players from 22:00 to 02:30.

Adventurers

Meadowlark

Patriarch Basequin of the Lady gathered a large company of adventurers in order to strike at the evil heart of Black Monastery. Twenty three adventurers from all over Wilderlands arrived in Ironburg, and joined the High Priest of the Weeping Madonna. Return adventurers included Wilbalt Abendeurer, Greenhickory, and Gottri Smallbaily. The rest were all new recruits.

Company marched half an hour north east of Ironburg, atop one of the smaller bluffs. There they formed a circle, with Basequin in the centre. High priest began reading the scroll. As he read green flames engulfed him and his eyes turned black. The flames lunged out of his, setting fire to the whole company.

Opening their eyes they found themselves in front of massive Black Monastery, one thousand and five hundred feet wide, six hundred feet long, and roughly thirty feet tall. Two towers, one in north-east, one in north-west corner, stood over hundred feet tall. The monastery looked blasted, charred, and incredibly damaged. All the windows were bricked shut.

There was nothing but dark soil. Not a single tree, bush, or sign of life. Everything was illuminated by an ominous pale green moon. The company spent two hours walking around. They found little in terms of entrance beyond the Gates of Fear at the front.

Lilidon drank a potion of flying and scouted from above. She saw the inner courtyard, some five hundred by two hundred and fifty feet. Within it were a dried fountain, a large fenced garden, a mausoleum surrounded by a stone fence, and a large black statue crouching on a pedestal.

Twenty three souls found the courage needed to march on, and they passed through the Gates of Fear. Walking down the seventy foot long gatehouse led them into the massive courtyard. It looked different than how Lilidon had seen it from above.

First, the fountain was absolutely stuffed with rotting corpses. Second, the statue was much more massive than it seemed from above. It was a titanic figure, twenty five feet tall, with a wingspan of at least fifty feet. It held a large sphere on its shoulders, like Atlas holding the world. Its physique can best be described as a strongman's. Two large sapphires were its eyes, its fangs of sharpest jade, and the rest, including its massive horns, of blackest stone.

Too afraid to proceed, the company retreated back through the Gates of Fear, and then fire balled the fountain. Many felt icy, skeletal fingers choke them. Patriarch Basequin dispelled evil, alleviating the oppressive feeling. From now on, the company was marred with indecisiveness.

Which way to go? How to approach this courtyard? There was at least a dozen doors, in addition to the large garden and fenced off mausoleum. Ultimately, they decided to follow along the north wall heading east. Many pulled out their swords and asked them to detect secret passageways and doors.

Nothing, nothing, nothing!

As they explored, they noticed that the moon shone brighter and brighter. As the it changed its phase, so did the statue change its pose. From kneeling under the weight of the dark sun, to holding it upright, and then to holding it on a palm.

They decided to check the first doors they have encountered up close, in the south-west corner. Before them was a long corridor, illuminated by candles burning along the floor.

“Over here! Secret doors!”

Indeed, there were secret doors along the south wall of the courtyard. Lilidon and Attalaeon took the lead exploring the dark passage. It turned, led past a door, and then narrowed into a shuffle space one would have to take off their backpack to pass through.

“Look! Look!”

Fountain spewed fire, vomiting out a fire elemental. One of the certified quick thinkers cast phantasmal force to create an illusory waterfall. The elemental did not move out of the fountain.

Company fled through the secret passageway, cramming all twenty into a fifty foot long corridor. During that time Lilidon and Attalaeon had traversed the narrow shuffle space, found another sliding secret doors, and entered a room most peculiar.

To the south were large double doors, barred, and bolted with two iron pitons. Above the doors, atop the vertical split, was another iron bolt. Hobbit and human heroes ducked as the monastery shook. Their ears ringed from the explosion behind them. Smell of charred flesh permeated the air.

Feacyn, Merrord, Eri Dragon, Storri, Carmea, Greenhickory, Orastelius, Laranne, Gottri, Erling, Alberich, Warnald, Oberd, Hargrim, and Ome were dead, reduced to nothing but burn remains. What had happened is as follows.

While packed in the secret corridor, three of them attempted to force open the single doors in the middle of it. They did so at the same time. Two failed, meaning they fell face first into the chamber, and triggered whatever there was to trigger.

Weeping Madonna, ever gracious and generous, supplied Patriarch Basequin with many more men, all willing to adventure on another plane of existence. Our High Priest will whip himself accordingly when the time comes.

And so were Tyri, Horaticus, Boria, Ilatea, Robin, Vurum, Sabirah, Apad, Sam, Jared, Halvord, Fair Penton, Karelia, and Tilith summoned.

The company was now spread out, from the chamber that exploded everyone, to Lilidon and Attalaeon who ignored the barred double doors, and squeezed through another shuffle space, eastwards to a large junction.

Beginning from the latter, they found a secret chamber of triangular shape within which a fat idol of demonic figure, cut from red stone, rested atop a plinth. Its belly hung over the edge, its forehead hung over its eye-line. It had two wings, one small and atrophied, one large, wrapping around its bulk. Along the plinth were hooks, and upon most of them were skulls of varying races. Nothing good came to those who investigated and studied this chamber.

The former peeked into chamber from where an explosion came. Not a single trace of charring! In front of them were neatly folded black robes, atop which were assorted bones. The chamber was illuminated by the green moonlight shining from above. The room had no ceiling at all! Several adventurers dared enter to investigate further. An elf among them heard weird sounds, as if fleshy wings were beating, far, far away. Up they looked, up at the obese horror blocking the moon. It flew in circles, with one crippled and one large wing. Adventurers left the chamber at once, and slammed the doors shut.

The company regrouped at the large junction. They formed a security perimeter around Patriarch Basequin as he communed with his Lady.

He found himself naked, kneeling on sharpened stones. Next to him was his lady, weeping alongside him.

“My dear child, this hurts me more than you. Speak. I am listening.”

Basequin wanted to know where is the closest hoard of gold and magical items.

“In the north east tower, my child.”

Next he wanted to know where is the closest valuable item to them.

“Thirty seven feet north of you, my child.”

Then he asked about the statue in the courtyard.

“That is the Titan of the Black Monastery. It will roam free when the moon is full, my child.”

He followed up by asking for the true name of the demon flying down.

“You will have to weep harder for that knowledge, my child.”

Basequin took off his rosary, spread it apart, and flagellated himself.

“My dear child, this hurts me more than you. Bug'nz'khon.” she wept as her cleric whipped himself silly.

Next he asked if the demon is the same as the idol.

“Yes it is, my child.”

And finally, he asked which device could destroy the evil titan.

“You, my child.”

Patriarch Basequin opened his eyes, blood streaming down his back and leggings.

Straight north were doors. They broke through and ransacked the ruined library. They found a single gem worth one hundred and fifty gold pieces. Several of the intact scrolls detected as magical, but contained nothing but insane ramblings of obviously demented authors. Finally, one of the adventurers had found a leather-bound tome hidden underneath a flagstone. He read it, felt more dexterous, and the tome vanished.

Company returned to the courtyard, Fire elemental was still by the fountain, unmoving. They followed the east wall, into the north-east corner. Little did they know that several of the members—Robin, Vurum, Ilatea, Boria, and Sigrid, had been lost in the gardens for quite some time now. They had separated way back, and were crawling through the ploughed dark soil for who knows how long. They found fleshy, veiny tubes buried several feet deep, but had been avoiding them. Robin was especially exasperated, feeling lost and disoriented.

Tilith and Sabirah coined an ingenious plan. They would fly up, towards the tower, check it for windows, and if there were any, then they'd tie a long rope to some anchor and throw it down. The moon was nearly full. The titan held the black sun with a single finger.

And so they went up. The tower had four floors, each roughly twenty feet tall. Each floor had a small gangway, gargoyles, and similar. All the windows, sans two, were bricked shut. South windows on the second and fourth floor were not bricked, but blocked with some kind of dark and opaque substance.

Two magic-users proceeded with the plan. They picked up five hundred feet of rope, flew, tied it near the second floor and then threw it all the way down in the courtyard. This below had to scale a thirty foot wall, then traverse nearly two hundred feet on steep rooftop, and then climb another twenty or so feet to reach the window.

Basequin had drunk potion of diminution, climbed on the shoulder of one, and hopped on the window bench. He poked his itsy-bitys-tiny-little face through. He could see am iron-frame bed in the south-east corner, several iron cages, some torture implements, and a large iron chest with a padlock. More importantly, four carnivorous apes in the chamber sniffed him out.

Outside, Tilith and Sabirah flew in the air.

Moon turned completely green, irradiating the courtyard with blighted jade light. Titan of the Black Monastery growled as it hurled the dark sun towards the magic-users. They managed to dodge it by sheer luck.

Ground trembled as titan jumped from its pedestal. Fire elemental stepped out of the fountain and, blasted the titan with lava jets. Without flinching, the titan sucked it in, now its eyes burning bright and engulfed with flames.

A number of courageous—or suicidal—adventurers charged the titan. It was so massive they had no trouble striking it. Titan swung its massive fist and completely squashed Horaticus with a single blow. Other adventures sped up their ascent, rushing to reach the tower. Basequin, ignorant of the pandemonium transpiring outside, jumped into the chamber, ran under the bed, and whistled to provoke the apes.

They banged on the door frame. One of the magic-users stepped through the window, and blasted them with wand of fear. Apes fled through the north east doors, aping around. Basequin fled too, but through the padlock. He landed on a bunch of several limbs.

Battle outside raged on. As if the titan had not been enough, hundreds of arms started crawling out of the garden! The company was now split in four ways: those fighting the undead horde, those fighting the titan, those trying to reach the tower, and those in the tower.

Titan of the Black Monastery crouched, and jumped up. He landed down straight by the tower, crashing through the roof, demolishing everything beneath it. Entire monastery shook, sending those holding the rope flying and tumbling. Luckily no one fell down.

Sigrid and Boria hacked and slashed, hacked and slashed, hacked and slashed, at the hands, arms, torsos, a never-ending stream of the dead coming from the gardens. Clerics in the courtyard, Fair among them, turned and turned, ripping their vocal chords to shreds, gripping their silver symbols with conviction of their deities.

Apes in the tower went quiet rather quickly. Checking the room filled the adventurers with horror unlike any other. They were drained of life by a wraith—and now they were raising as ape-wraiths! Chaos outside poured inside, as Lilidon chugged potion of giant strength, Basequin banished the wraiths, some adventurers ignored both rooms altogether and ran up the spiral staircase to third and fourth floor.

“Hey! Yes you! Listen to me demon! Bug'nz'khon! I command you!”

The titan, only its head poking through the broken rooftop, looked at the magic-user poking her head through the window. Then it blew fire from its eyes. It did not reach the tower, but it surely burned all the rope. Who climbed, climbed. Tyri charged the titan, and cut off one of its massive horns. The creature roared, sending everyone tumbling all around. It swung through the roof, trying to crush Tyri. It missed every time! Courtyard crew continued their epic battle, although progressively more wounded.

Tilith exited into the third floor, by all accounts a horrific torture chamber dominated by an iron maiden. But it was no ordinary maiden, no, this was Iron Maiden of the Black Monastery. It beckoned the person to enter, and they did, and it closed upon them, giving them a cosy feeling of eternal suffering.

Adventurers outside roared as Tyri smashed the Titan of the Black Monastery straight across its head, breaking it into one million stone fragments. Emboldened, the garden gang fought event harder, destroying and turning the remaining undead. They'd have time to rest when they are dead.

Basequin, Lilidon, Attalaeon, and Sabirah went to the topmost floor. Others went into the third floor, and grappled the animated iron maiden, which now took the shape of a golem. Several of them drunk potions of giant strength, and begin ripping it apart. They almost killed Tilith in the process.

Fourth level crew investigated the chamber they were in. It was by all accounts some sort of antechamber, designed to impress cruel people. Hooks with giantkin skulls, a chair made of hydra's bones, green flames in the fireplace, and large rug with obscene deeds... Attalaeon burned the last one using his flaming sword.

With no time to lose, the party broke through the north doors, into the tower master's bed chamber. Basequin turned the evil fool and made it run for its unlife. They did not pursue, but rather ransacked the chamber for its wealth: a storm giant's skull encrusted with diamonds, opals, and rubies, three hundred and seventy four platinum pieces, two thousand and one gold pieces, five hundred and seventy seven silver pieces, and a a helm of darkvision.

Adventurers outside had no respite, for the Titan of the Black Monastery had reconstituted itself and continued its relentless attack. It charged through the walls, breaking everything. Halvord ran across the rooftop, jumped on its back, and pounded it on the head without any mercy whatsoever. The garden crew now fought a much more dangerous opponent than a horde of zombies.

Third floor party managed to completely destroy Iron Maiden of the Black Monastery, liberating comatose Tilith. They rejoined with the party descending from top floor, went down to second, and began to prepare new ropes, on the northern side, in order to descend.

“Get on the other side! We will wait you there!”

But those in the courtyard could not hear them. They were too busy battling the titan. Sigrid was its next victim, crushed into a bloody pulp underneath its massive bulk. But adventurers prevailed and destroyed it once more. Alas, the titan, even in its death, took one more life. Halvord tumbled down, nearly thirty feet, and was crushed to death by the titan's remains.

Tyri, Rylorla, Wilbalt, Ulla, Ithsee, Boria, Ilatea, Robin, Vurum, Lilidon, Sabirah, Apad, Attalaeon, Sam, Jared, Fair, Karelia, Eivind, and Tilith gathered in front of the Black Monastery. Patriarch Basequin took out the crumpled scroll.

He read from it.

Nothing happened.

“Oh shit.”

Twenty survivors, battered and bruised.

With no way out from this nightmare.

“Try reading it backwards! Try it!” Wilbalt yelled.

Basequin obliged. It was so difficult, as if the words themselves were fighting him. Wisps of green flame engulfed him, but they were still here.

Everyone held hands, making a circle around the patriarch.

“Try again!”

“Yes! Read! Read!”

Patriarch Basequin of the Lady read the scroll in reverse, letter by letter, line by line, verse by verse. The moon went pale again, and green flames consumed the company.

Drawings by Nocturnal Peacock.

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