Conquering the Barbarian Altanis: Session 5
|Reedo||Halfling level 1||Portly, somewhat distant and out-of-place, novice adventurer seeking riches in the big scary world. Very likeable.|
|Richter||Fighter level 1||Ugly looking figure with ruddy face, belching speech, and single tooth.|
|Alric||Fighter level 1||Tall, broad-shouldered avatar of masculinity. Obligatory horned helmet and majestic blonde mustache included.|
|Ingemar||Magic-user level 1||Polyglot covered from head to toe in inked scriptures. Only thing more stained than his skin is the robe he wears.|
|Melvin||Magic-user level 1||Introduces himself as “Melvin the Magnificent.” Known as “Melvin the Mediocre.”|
Richter's report linked at the end of the post.
Dewsnap 4th, Fireday
The warmth of the sun was lost on our band of adventurers—Reedo, Richter, and Alric—replaced by the burning fire of vengeance in their belly. In silence they sat; waiting for the new day to dawn. They will have their vengeance; there is blood-price to be paid.
Ibor, their guide from the Rantar's keep, joined their solemn silence. That was as much as he could offer. New day brought new allies. Melvin, a moaning wizard looking for his dwarf friend “Jaha,” and Ingemar, a man of magic and languages. Our party set out with the earliest rays of sun—to Melvin's incomprehensible complaints.
They circled the keep like vultures; their victims the only thing they could think of. North? South? East? West? East it was their corridor of choice. They crept, like a snake towards a warm egg nurturing new life, unmolested, undisturbed.
It was a wonderful sunny day. There was vibrant life all around them, but alas, they were too engrossed in their devices to notice such beauty. Walls were still as old as yesterday. They crawled around the corner, inspecting the passage once protected by large gates. The floor was charcoal-black, like a sore on the earth. Richter poked it with sword—the party's favour inspection technique. Yes, it was scorched earth.
There was fresh soil just beyond the gate's threshold. The ground there looked quite different. Our heroes filled one pot with flesh soil; Richter chucked it with all his might; revealing a shoddily made pit trap with some wooden stakes at the bottom. You should've seen their smug grins.
Few jumps later, and our A-team was in the keep's courtyard, hugging the wall in order to avoid any ambush. West? North? South-eastern tower it was. They busted the doors open with elephant's grace, finding themselves in the foot of a guard tower. Up they went carefully. Richter was the last to go. And it would've been his last going hadn't Alric been there to offer his muscle-stacked arm when the ladder collapsed under the ruddy one.
Adventurers are know for not letting anything going to waste. So they ripped out corroded rail—that is, what remained of it—and celebrated their new pole. They were on the first floor now. Reedo listened to the west doors, getting some bugs in his ear; Ingemar took to north doors, which swung right open in front of him. There was another trapdoor on the ceiling. Reluctant to immediately climb them, the party figured out a perfect way to test the alluring trapdoor.
Reedo climbed on Richter's shoulders, and then used to corroded pole to poke the doors. The pole fell apart in his hands, turning into nothing but dust and rust. Being no coward, Ricther braved the ladders, and went up. They held. The tower floor above was covered in rubble; azure blue sky clearly visible through the collapsed ceiling. There were dried blood stains and broken arrows amongst the rubble.
There were two exists from the tower's first floor. Both were covered in blackish burn-marks. “Will it hold us?” Alric and Richter ran across, Reedo carrying a torch behind them, Melvin and Ingemar stayed behind in the safety of the tower. Nothing bad happened.
They found themselves in a long room—barracks if it was to judge from all the rotten bunkbeds, tables and chairs. The air had acidic smell to it; the kind that feels like it burns your nasal hairs; as well as that familiar smell of death. The room was stripped by lazy sunrays making their way from numerous killholes. Myst lay where they left him; although he was nothing but gummy skeleton covered by pink slime.
Our brave adventurers couldn't resist the allure of robbing the corpse of their former companion. “It'd be a pity to leave his spellbook behind!” Richter readied his sword so he can lift the skeleton's hand off the book; Ingemar prepared a small sack, so he can grab the book; Reedo light up another torch in case something needs to be set to fire. Alric and Melvin looked on with curiosity.
The tip of Richter's sword sizzled away.
Reedo's torch extinguished.
Ingemar gambled his life. Twice.
Whatever the slime covering Myst's body was, it seemed alive and hungry; going for the first thing by it. It is part luck, put wonder, that no one died in the ensuing chaos. Our brave party—all of them—made a mad dash to the nearby staircase. Whatever might lurk below is surely less scary than this , right? Reedo, Melvin, and Ingemar, took the stairs like civilised gentlemen they are. Richter and Alric, on the other hand, just jumped leg-first in the pit bellow.
Another room prostrated in front of them, cut short by a gaping hole in front of them. Hesitant to spend any more time while that thing crawls about, they opted to go deeper. They found themselves in a dank, dark, cellar. There were skeletons around, as were straw-filled sacks that reeked of piss and worse. Although skeptical of the resting dead, our band quickly investigated all nooks and crannies.
It were Ingemar and Melvin who found old, bloated, wooden chest. The duo, pretending to be Richter and Alric, attempted to force the chest open. Alas, they aren't as bulging as the named duo. Originals had no trouble ripping the chest open; revealing thousands of orangish coins. Ingemar recognised the lettering of a long gone empire. There were so many coins that five large sacks were barely enough.
But which way to exit? Are staircases safe? Should we climb the rubble? Richter abandoned the latter option after feeling intense coldness beneath him. So they made their way back, exiting into the other side of the courtyard. There they've noticed that makeshift wall that divided the courtyard in half was supported by three beams. Reedo was the last to kick one of them to the side, sending the whole wall down. He was caught up by the debris, but was quickly dusted by others.
Those ancient coin surely quenched their thirst for vengeance. They exited the keep just as the sun started to set, with Howla and Vanis announcing their presences.
And then they heard a familiar-sounding horn going off south of them. Then another, south-east. Then another, north-west. “Run!” and ran they did. “Run!” and ran they did. But it is difficult to run when you are hauling five large sacks filled with coin. Barks and grunts could be heard in the distance.
Ingemar understood them.
“Catch them! Skin them!”
Player Session Reports
- Richter's Diary: Session 5
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