Conquering the Barbarian Altanis: Session 88
Adventurers
| Character | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Bob the Dwarf | Dwarf level 1 | Midget with big beard in search of an adventure. |
| Darius | Cleric level 3 | Follower of Dacron, God of Craftsmen. |
| Rorik | Fighter level 2 | A fighter. |
| Beorg the Gravedigger | Fighter level 1 | Inspired to adventure after burying several adventurers. |
| Hagar the Hewer | Dwarf level 2 | Imagine Conan as dwarf. |
| Ambros | Cleric level 2 | Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time. |
Dewsnap 17th, Waterday
Sounds of butt-cheeks clapping echoed throughout the tomb adventurers were in.
Smell of burnt flesh permeated the chamber.
Hagar turned around to face the music.
Four blobs of flesh rolled from around the corner; each burning with purple flame.
Adventurers closest to them jumped on the closed sarcophagi.
Beorg the Gravedigger closed in, and immediately dispatched one of the blobs.
Seeing how easy that was, Rorik and Hagar joined in the meat spreading fiesta. Clapping sounds were no more.
“Uh-oh.”
One of the sarcophagi in the northern part of the chamber opened and a heavily armed figure stepped out. It was dressed in same ornate plate mail, topped with great helm, as were the skeletons in sarcophagi they've plundered so far.
The monster slumbered to the fireplace where purple fire burnt, dipped the sword in the flames, and took it out. Then it turned around and menacingly marched towards the party.
Hagar and Beorg bravely stood in its way. The undead guardian swung its longsword wreathed in purple flame. He struck Hagar with great might, nearly killing him in one blow. Dwarf's wound burnt purple, as the flame left the guardian's sword. Beorg ducked just in time.
Rorik joined the fray as well, while Bob stood petrified. Darius summoned the power of Dacron; but Dacron did not heed the cries of his village priest.
The guardian continued his relentless assault, forcing the mighty dwarf to the ground.
“No!”
Beorg jumped in front of the defeated Hagar, putting himself between the plated juggernaut and half-dead dwarf. Hagar pulled himself back, just close enough to Ambros and Darius to heal him.
Guardian stomped over Beorg, slashing through him with ease. The fighter collapsed from the wounds, bracing his polearm for one final strike.
At that moment Hagar stabbed the undead menace straight through the plates; Rorik could see the skeleton inside nearly crumble! Beorg held his polearm true just long enough for the guardian to impale itself. Gravedigger smashed the remains and catapulted the skull to the other side of the chamber.
“We are quite banged up. Let's get out.”
Ambros bandaged courageous Beorg while Heran Marad administered divine healing.
Three suites of ornate plate with matching shield and sword were quite heavy and required some time to extract from the 100 feet deep chute they came from.
Dubalan the Goatherd, still glistening in the dusk, greeted the party at the top.
“Yes, I know just the right place where we can sleep well! I know many such places in the area where I hide with my goats and we sleep like babies!”
And so the party found a hidden crevice sufficient for them to spend the night.
Dewsnap 19th, Fireday
Winter was almost gone; Spring just around the corner. Days were getting longer, plants were awakening, and adventurers were tomb raiding.
The party returned to the pit leading into the tomb they've broken into two days ago. In Midway Culwert, one of the finest Dwarf smiths in the region, confirmed the provenance of armours. They were ceremonial plate mails worn by royal guards in the time when Kelnore Empire still stood strong. These suits were in splendid shape because they most likely haven't seen combat. Each set of armour with matching shield and sword could be worth 500 gp and more to the right collector.
Adventurers were now back to open the remaining five sarcophagi! And so they did. Warriors would open the heavy lid while clerics would stay vigilant in case another guardian animates. They carefully handed each ceremonial suit, neatly arranging them in the tomb's antechamber.
Bob inspected the fireplace. Purple flames were not hot. They also didn't emanate any smoke. There was no chimney one would expect in the fireplace.
The party now split to investigate stone doors to the west and east.
East doors swung wide open, towards advancing Hagar, Bob, and Beorg.
A pulsating, convulsing, ten feet tall and ten feet wide mound of organs rolled out.
“I'll flank it... by surprise!” Beorg announced as he ran up to the wall and waited for the abomination to come in.
Others stepped back, creating as much distance between them and the slithering horror as possible.
Sling stones were fired, penetrating the soft, slushy organs. The abomination bled profusely as the stones melted away.
Bob popped open a flask of oil, set it aflame, and then chucked it at the mound. Smell of flambeed kidneys, lungs, liver, and intestines filled the chamber.
Burning organs rolled forward and then towards Beorg, who managed to jump between the sarcophagi just in time to avoid a horrible fate.
The mound might've been disgusting, but it sure wasn't impenetrable! Adventurers peppered it with sling stones until all organs fell apart and burned to char.
Circling its remains, the adventurers went for the doors the monster came through. Forcing the stone slab open revealed a most curious sight.
Chamber filled with hundreds of skulls! Some were hanging from the ceiling, some were impaled on metal spikes, and some were simply resting on the ground. All had their mouths agape in silent laughter. And all turned to face the adventurers.
“List, I'm friendly with the undead. Allow me to go first.”
Beorg carefully entered the chamber, making sure he doesn't graze any of the suspended skulls, nor to step on any of those on the ground. Skulls were devoid of anything—no gems in their eye sockets or exploding runes in their mouth.
There were two bricked doors, one to the south and one to the east. And there was a passageway leading north, terminating with doors similar to the ones they just came through.
Gravedigger moved closer to one of the bricked door for there was some writing above them. Since he is barely literate he couldn't make much sense of it. Then he moved up north to investigate the doors.
At this moment Hagar, Bob, and Ambros walked into the chamber.
Skulls followed them.
And then they—all 463 of them—began to chitter and chuckle, whisper and yell, mutter and groan! The noise reached incredible volume, creating a sanity shattering cacophony.
Unable to hear nor think, adventurers begun swinging wildly, crushing skulls galore. Rorik smashed 18, Hagar 21, Ambros nine, Bob 15, and Beorg 19. The noise became unbearable, breaking everyone's morale but Ambros's.
The cleric continued crushing skulls as others fled for their lives.
They ran, nay, they sprinted back into the sarcophagi chamber and then through the broken sealed doors into the antechamber. There they threw themselves to the ground.
“Wait, where is Ambros! We must go back for him!” Beorg lamented.
“No way!”
The noise was inexorable, echoing throughout the tomb, like it was following these band of cowards on their way out.
And then it stopped.
Ambros appeared from around the corner, running too.
“You are good!”
“Yes!”
“Elooooooooouuuu! You aliveee?” Dubalan yelled from above.
“Yes, we are fine!”
“Good to hear! That was some horrific noise you made down there! I soiled myself a bit!”
“Listen, I suggest we pick up the ceremonial armour sets and get back to Midway. That way we can put them in a safe place.” Ambros advocated.
“Hmm, but I'd like to rest and go back in...” Beorg advocated meekly.
“Sure, but we need to heal up and rest.”
“Let's at least haul the suits up?”
Indeed, the adventures spent the rest of the day getting all five sets out of the pit. Dubalan was both yellow from sweat and brown from fear.
“I could never be an adventurer... See, I made my promise, I led you here, again, like a real professional. But I could never go down. By Mitra, my bowels gave in... How could one stand in face of such thing, I cannot even imagine!” the goatherd went on and on as he led the party to another crevice to spend the night in.
But there was no rest for the wicked. Beorg and Dubalan were the only ones to have a good nights rest. Others suffered horrible nightmares of skulls screaming and mocking them.
“Gentlemen” Ambros proposed “we haven't slept well, we are tired, and we are spell-less. Let's head back to Midway, put the armours in a safe place, and rest well.”
“Aye.”
Flowerbloom 1st, Airday
Midway is a small place, barely a village. Soon everyone knew about adventurers' latest finds. Lonesome Drake inn was packed by people, all seeking an excuse to take a peek at those “Kelnorian Royal Armours.”
Party, on the other hand, had different plans. Everybody assembled in one of the rooms assigned to them. Armours were neatly arranged, as were the shields, swords, and a ring they recovered before.
Darius stood in the center and cast Detect Magic.
Ambros lit up.
“What... What is the meaning of this?”
“I don't know!” Ambros yelled.
“I trusted you! I trusted you!” Bob cried.
Hagar stroke his chin.
Rorik squinted.
“I wanna go back to the tomb.” Beorg stated.
“Hm, I think it would be wiser to head back to Hara, put the armours in our vault, and then see what we do next.” Ambros countered.
“I trusted you!” Bob cried on while taking out a piece of rope.
Illustrated by kicmaniac.
“Ambros, are you trying to prevent us from returning to the tomb? Or are you trying to lead us to Hara for something?” Darius inquired.
“I'm just proposing what I think is best. Why are you all acting funny!” Ambros defended himself.
“I trusted you!” Bob was inconsolable.
“Fine, let's go to Hara to stash our goods.” Darius conceded. Then he whispered to others “And to get Ambros checked!”
Flowerbloom 2nd, Waterday
Hara's south gatehouse was poorly guarded when adventurers arrived. It was night time and only one guard was on the outside, and one guard on the inside. Standard arrangement was six guards on each side, plus several more on the towers.
Streets were empty, and those that were out kept to themselves. There was heavy, almost oppressive atmosphere. What has changed so much since they left, adventurers wondered.
Sleeping well, individuals splintered across the town, each on their own mission. A field of vibrant purple primroses coloured the banks of River Farhills. Their liveliness stood in stark contrast to mood of Hara's residents.
Beorg went back to the graveyard to check on his replacement. The bodies were not burred with as much care as he did it, but at least hey were beneath the ground. Darius visited the Poseidon's temple, learning that Mavis the Magnificent care cure any affliction. Hagar commissioned the wizards' guild to do a thorough investigation of the magical spear he had recovered from a tomb underneath bronze statue.
Bob visited Forsetti's temple to read through the archives, seeking mentions of necromancers. He found nothing. Then he spent the evening drinking at the Wine Dragon. There he overheard that the town has fallen into Namelin's hands. Without the castellan and soldiers, Namelin family hired all the goons, mercenaries, and sellswords in the region. Red Queen hasn't acted yet. Has she forsaken her own people?
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