Adventurers
| Character |
Class |
Description |
| Ambros |
Cleric level 4 |
Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time. |
| Foxglove |
Thief level 4 |
A willowy human, long hair ties in a pony tail, looks a bit dangerous and dainty at the same time. |
| Darius |
Cleric level 4 |
Follower of Dacron, God of Craftsmen. |
| Rorik |
Fighter level 3 |
A fighter. |
| Tarkus the Promising |
Cleric level 3 |
Follower of Bachontoi, God of Red Wisdom. |
| Beorg |
Fighter level 3 |
Inspired to adventure after burying several adventurers. |
| Happy |
Halfling level 3 |
Short, very happy looking halfling. Hair covers his eyes and he is nothing but smiles. |
Meadowlark 12th, Waterday
“Round of drinks for everyone!” Ambros announced to loud cheers of Hog's Head inn patrons—a motley assortment of local miners, villagers, and seven adventurers.
The party arrived at Ironburg earlier today, fetching a ride on a river barge from Hara. This small hamlet owes its existence to the local iron mine as well as great Wizard Crus whom had driven a vampire from the local tower.
“Uh-oh, do you remember the locals mentioning vampires? And Tagoler just hand-waving that as empty rumours?”
Either way, the party was here to speak to the Wizard, for they were led to believe Old Crus might know more about the skull-adorned weapons they had recovered from a dungeon atop the Midnight Goddess Hills.
Given that his tower is roughly a mile away from Ironburg, adventurers decided to have a good night's rest before seeking audience. There is no doubt the man would be demanding.
Meadowlark 13th, Earthday
“What?! What?! Can't you give old man time to come?!”
Old creaky voice shouted from the other side of large double doors. Rorik just knocked the second time on them, after waiting for ten or so minutes.
“Who are you? What do you want?!” the voice continued.
Rorik and Ambros spoke in turns, going to great lengths to appear both polite and capable.
“Adventurers?! List your names, professions, and accomplishments!” the voice demanded.
Now all had to speak, in turns. Alas, two failed to say anything, prompting the Wizard on the other side of the doors to bang his head in frustration.
“How could I help someone who can't even follow the simplest of instructions!”
Stragglers quickly introduced themselves as well.
Doors slowly creaked open. An old man with long gray beard, weathered face, and bushy eyebrows squinted at the party. He was dressed in silk robe, and was holding an exquisite wooden stick.
Illustration by kickmaniac.
He scanned the men in front of him.
“Which one of you said he was tested by Bachontoi and given another chance at life?”
“That'd be me!” Tarkus perked up proudly.
“Good, good. Temple of Greed, now that's a Bachontoi classic.”
“I never said it was a Temple of Greed.” Tarkus raised his eyebrow.
“Those who know, know.”
Old man turned around, and slowly walked into a great round chamber, obviously serving as both kitchen and common chambers. Although he hasn't waved the visitors in, he also hasn't closed the doors.
Adventurers followed cautiously. Then they stood until the old man sat in chair. Only then did they join him around large wooden table.
“Now, how can Old Crus help you, young adventurers?”
Once again, Rorik and Ambros took the lead, with Darius, Tarkus, and Beorg jumping in here and there. Crus would interrupt the conversation from time to time and inquire more about specific individual's accomplishments.
For example, he cut Ambros off and demanded to know more about his dungeoneering experience. “Everything you said is very abstract! Speak in specific details!” he'd demand. Conversation was long and arduous, going for hours. Partly because Crus was a slow speaker, partly because he would take long breaks between questions, and partly because he would doze off here and there.
But it was all well worth it, for adventurers learned a great deal about the dangers they are facing. First, the creatures they fought at the spider farm are most likely shadow goblins. These are the creatures for deep, deep darkness, and it is uncommon to see the on the surface. Crus would like their little bodies, dead or alive.
Second, the four-armed spiderfolk they encountered are a slave race of deep, pale elves. They too are rarely seen so close to the surface, so whatever is driving them up must be something truly fascinating. Crus would like their little bodies too, dead or alive.
“I'm the greatest scholar of Underdark in the Wilderlands!”
Third, judging by the weapons they have recovered, Crus believes it is a long forgotten temple built as a sort of prison for a powerful artefact called Foundingstone. When Rt was formed seven unnamed gods had stole fragments of its virgin stone crust. Imbued with cosmic powers and gift of life, these stone fragments are capable of materialising dreams of anyone touching it. Foundingstone is one of such fragments. Alas, this one has been perverted and abused to such extent that it only spews forth nightmares and horrors of those that surround it. It was buried deep, deep underground. Crus would like a piece of it, or at least a drawing, as well as drawings of the whole complex.
“Hey, one day you might be great adventurers too!”
Fourth, the “glowing hunters” should be perfectly killable. “Just don't get entangled in their webs. They are sticky, and will melt your flesh away. Oh and they will paralyse you. But you will still feel everything. But you won't be able to scream. Just don't get entangled and you'll be fine.” Crus would like their medium-sized bodies too, dead or alive.
Armed with all this new knowledge, as well as potential of a new, powerful ally, the adventurers set out and headed back to the dungeon.
Meadowlark 16th, Airday
“Blue haze is back...”
Investigating the entry chamber has confirmed that the cloaks jamming dragon's nostrils have been removed, filling the chamber with blue mist spewing out of them. Spiderman's corpse was also removed.
Tarkus nearly fell into a pit trap, saved only by his colleagues who had been here before. And good save was it, for this pit also had spikes in it.
The party tied a rope around the south door's handle, and pulled it open with ease. Then they anchored an improvised rope-rail along the wall, so they have something to hold to as they pass around open pit trap.
They found themselves in a long corridor, darkness on both sides. Almost across them were stone doors. Listening revealed nothing. Forcing them open revealed another dark corridor. Up ahead was rubble and debris. Wooden doors flanked the entrance. One were slightly ajar. Sickly green light emanated from the room behind.
Peeking in revealed a chamber with strings of greenish glowing rope. Happy put his big boys pants on, and walked in confidently.
Nothing.
Empty chamber, bathed in sickly green light from the webbing. But there was plenty of space to move freely. So Happy went through the archway into another illuminated chamber.
Nothing.
Except bloated wooden doors on the west wall.
Party assumed battle formation.
A rope was tied around the handle.
A burning oil flask was prepared.
Doors were pulled open with great force.
Flask was chucked.
Weapons were drawn.
Nothing.
Peeking out revealed yet another corridor. A junction was to their right, two doors to their left, and one doors just across them.
“Wait...”
FoxGlove picked up on a mix of clicking and clucking sounds.
Listening attentively, he realised they are coming from one of the two doors to their left. The ones that were slightly ajar that is.
The party slowly approached, ready for violence.
Now they could also hear flapping sounds.
Bursting the doors open revealed a chamber full of ridiculous creatures that were a mix of a spider, pigeon, and hen. Their bodies were approximately cat-sized, and they were flapping around chaotically, creating a confusing mess.
Adventurers stepped in and hacked them without mercy.
In last ditch attempt, few surviving monsters dive bombed two adventurers, covering them in webs. Alas, in doing so the monsters became easy targets for the remaining party members, and were briefly dealt with.
Investigating the room uncovered two dwarfish corpses in advanced stage of decomposition. Both had their rib cages wide open, and looked like they were nibbled from the inside.
FoxGlove found a skull-topped scroll case made of bone. He opened it and read the scroll inside. It was a bit difficult to read since it was scribbled in Auld Common. Lo and behold, it was a scroll of Protection from Evil.
Will the party resume their hunt?
Or will they become the hunted?
Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.
#Wilderlands #SessionReport
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