Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Tarkus the Promising	Cleric level 4	Follower of Bachontoi, God of Red Wisdom.
Beorg the Gravedigger	Fighter level 3	Inspired to adventure after burying several adventurers.
Thorm	Dwarf level 2	Ashen hair, beard, and eyes. Left his own clan due to financial trouble.
Dalkanarion	Fighter level 4	A youthful specimen in full strength, full of purpose, bluster, and eagerness to prove himself.
Ambros	Cleric level 6	Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Ignaeus	Elf level 4	A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Foxglove	Thief level 5	A willowy human, long hair ties in a pony tail, looks a bit dangerous and dainty at the same time.

Dewsnap 3rd, Earthday

High Priest of Forseti watched as his army marched towards Cedarwade keep. Knight Marlon val Brookwood led the charge with his five most trusted warrior. Tarkus accompanied them, providing blessings. Marlon led the charge on foot, after being convinced to do so by Ambros. “He must be testing my faith and devotion.” Marlon thought to himself.

Behind Marlon marched four squads of heavy footmen, led by Dalkanarion, Ignaeus, Beorg, and Thorm respectively. Jace, stone-cold leader of mounted crossbowmen, led six lances. Three were with her, while other three approached the keep from south. She rejected Ambros's advice to dismount.

“You do realise you are a bigger target when on horse?” Ambros implored in frustration.

“Am I now? Observe.” Jace replied.

Vicar Arlon led two squads of heavy footmen, while four squads followed Ambros himself. Three squads and a lance of heavy horsemen were left behind to guard the camp. Four lances of heavy horsemen were ordered to wait to the east and west of the keep—-in order to clean up any stragglers or fleeing monsters.

Beastmen holding the keep were prepared. So much was confirmed by Thorm whom had drunk the potion of gaseous form in order to scout the fortification. Two hobgoblins were stationed at each of the four towers, armed with heavy crossbows. Carts filled with oil-soaked rags blocked the gatehouse, while half dozen of hobgoblins laid in ambush, prepared to set the attackers on fire.

In the very first missile exchange Jace's units eliminated half of the defenders on towers. Hobgoblins missed again, and again. Ambros prayed and then fell into deep concentration. A great swarm of insects gathered on the castle wall, forcing those caught in it to flee for their life.

Mounted crossbowmen rained hell upon the keep, killing all beastmen stupid enough to poke their ugly faces over the crenelations.

“Charge! Onwards!” Marlon roared. Protected by constant barrage from the crossbowmen, as well as High Priest's insect swarm, heavy footmen reached the gatehouse without any casualties whatsoever. They rolled the carts out of the way and spilled into the courtyard, ready for some violence.

“Where are they? Show yourself!” Marlon roared in frustration.

Squads split and begun going through the keep. Dalkanarion broke into the stables, where he dispatched large gelatinous cube. Beorg led a squad up the gatehouse and then cleaned each of the towers. Ignaeus and his squad swept the barracks—-now devoid of life, but full of filth left behind by its foul inhabitants. Thorm led a squad straight into the chamber where he had seen a leader of these monsters. There they ransacked the room—-and dwarf found out a possible secret door.

“Die in the name of LAW!”

Tarkus heard Marlon yelling. They had just entered the largest building in the keep—-mess hall by all accounts. Cleric rushed west, after Marlon, only to find him wipe his bloodied sword after slaying four pathetic creatures.

“These are no hobgoblins. Some slave servants. Goblins maybe?”

Dalkanarion and his squad entered the mess hall. Mighty warrior stared at the staircase leading down, into the dungeon. Adventurers readied themselves for the descent.

Have the defenders truly fled? Or is the real battle about to begin?

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Balarus	Fighter level 4	An ex-woodsman, quite a crackshot with his bow.
Bragi Twinefinger	Halfling level 2	A stout strong halfling. As a devotee of the Great Tailor he is always smartly dressed (under his armour) and overly fond of multiple breakfasts.
Ambros	Cleric level 6	Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Ignaeus	Elf level 4	A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Foxglove	Thief level 5	A willowy human, long hair ties in a pony tail, looks a bit dangerous and dainty at the same time.
Dalkanarion	Fighter level 4	A youthful specimen in full strength, full of purpose, bluster, and eagerness to prove himself.
Thorm	Dwarf level 2	Ashen hair, beard, and eyes. Left his own clan due to financial trouble.

Dewsnap 1st, Airday

“What is the meaning of this?!” young Lord Kyle yelled at Ambros and his retinue.

Ambros was flanked by two heroes—Dalkanarion and Balarus respectively—as well as master dwarf Thorm. Behind them an army of holy warriors on a crusade.

By end of Gloomfrost some two hundred seasoned soldiers accompanied by another hundred non-combatants—families of the most dedicated—arrived at Hara. They carried banners sporting head of a bearded man—holy symbol of Forseti—and have arrived to serve the new High Priest, Ambros Ap Mortain. Their travel was long and difficult. They left their homes forever, a sacrifice for the great god of peace.

Knight Marlon val Brookwood, a minor noble, leads a squadron of heavy horsemen. Jace, a tall woman with long blonde hair tied in a braided pony-tail, leads a squadron of mounted crossbowmen. Men tremble in her presence. Vicar Arlon, leads a throng of heavy footmen. These soldiers are incredibly brave and dedicated to their cause. All pledged their allegiance to Ambros, the Justice Supreme of Hara. And they are very, very enthusiastic about peace and justice.

Expensive too.

Eager to find a reliable source of income for his new personal army, Ambros remembered young Lord Kyle and his plea to help him retake Cedarwade keep. He also carried a bloodied note recovered from Graylock's lair, which had Kyle's signature on it.

Justice Supreme was about to find out if Kyle had been smuggling goods past Hara. That would be most unfortunate for the young lord.

“We are here to reclaim the Cedarwade keep!”

“Is that so?! Then I invite you to my humble home!”

Soldiers erected a sizable tent-camp just north of Midway, while Ambros, Ignaeus, Balarus, Dalkanarion, Thorm, Marlon, and Arlon went to lord's manor.

Prior to setting out, Ambros spent weeks rummaging through temple records. Many were in poor shape, making it difficult to make out the details. There are at least seven different organisation systems, hence it is a huge pain to reference and cross reference reports. Three most recent records Ambros was able to find about Lord Kyle—-and most readable because they are the only intact ones—-had shown that Kyle family has accrued great debt with Imrael family. In fact, the latest document concludes that Kyle has refused to hand over his estate and fief to Imrael, as well as refused to show up in Hara at the Temple for the hearing. Therefore, Imrael is allowed to take what he is owed by force.

Foxglove did an investigation of his own as well, hanging out at all the usual places. He learned that Midway Red is the most valuable wine in the region. Historically, its shipments have often been raided and then smuggled for great profit. Kyle family owns the vineyards close to Midway and oversees the production. Kyle Senior died in one of the raiding ambushes, opting to sink the barges with wine instead of handing them over. His young son, whom had inherited the manor and fief, has been nothing but trouble for thieves and smugglers. Luckily, he is too weak and commands virtually no force, so the business flows better than ever.

The dinner began cordial and pleasant. Lord Kyle was curious as ever. Dalkanarion regaled him with his adventuring tales. Balarus are in silence, bemused. Nervous in the presence of such awesome warriors, young lord had a drink too much, and was taken completely unaware when Ambros raised his concerns.

“Don't speak of justice to me! I have suffered nothing but injustice and indignity at your temple!” Kyle Junior spoke with liquid courage. Dalkanarion's snarl and Ambros's cold gaze calmed him in a moment. Everything took a much darker turn as Ambros pressed on with his interrogation.

“I can't do what you are asking of me! You are handing me the rope to hang myself with!” young lord pleaded as adventurers goaded him to stop paying protection money to Hara and pay them instead. They wanted to know how much does he have, how much can he pay them, they wanted to know it all.

But when Ambros took out the bloodied note all fell silent. Lord Kyle went pale as a ghost. When High Priest passed him the note, young man cupped his face and broke into tears. “Come now young lord, this is very unlordy of you. What will your men think?” Dalkanarion attempted to console him.

Painfully aware of his pathetic position, Lord Kyle did the best he could. He answered all the questions, allowed adventurers entry into the manor library, and finally, reached an agreement that they were happy with.

“Secure my lands. Reclaim my keep. Clear my name. In return, I will grant land your holy soldiers. Ambros, I will erect a temple to Forseti. Dalkanarion, I will name you castellan of Cedarwade keep. Balarus, I will grant you 600 acres to raise a manor of your own. Thorm, I will appoint you as Overseer of a mine.”

The land in question is east of Hara, across the river, and south-east of Castle of the Wode. It is rich, fertile soil. It is also dangerous land, infested with beasts, wildlife, and all kinds of scum. Nothing that worries this brave band—they were already dreaming a kingdom of their own.

Dewsnap 2nd, Waterday

Ambros and his army reached Cedarwade an hour or so before the nightfall. It was the last month of winter and days were still short. Ignaeus volunteered to scout the keep as night falls. Thorm and Dalkanarion joined him. The trio rode as far as the trees provided cover.

There she stood, a rectangular little fort with a tower on each corner and broken gatehouse. No signs of life were visible. Ignaeus dismounted and crawled over the clearance. Dalkanarion and Thorm remained mounted at the edge of woods, watching the walls closely. Elf disappeared from their sight, much die to lack of sunlight and his crawling skills.

Ignaeus proceeded on his belly, inching towards the south-east fort tower. Then he felt the land under him give in, and he tumbled into a ten feet deep ditch. Looking left and right revealed a long ditch, covered with tarps and soil. Strong enough to withstand some weight, but would immediately give in under a mass of armed soldiers.

“Look!” Thorm pointed alarmingly at a group of figures exiting the fort. There was six of them, humanoid, and with long shafted weapons. They approached the hole created by Ignaeus. The elf, oblivious to what is happening above, continued exploring the ditch.

Dalkanarion and Thorm fired at the figures, missing. Then they rode towards where they believed Ignaeus should be, yelling. Dalkanarion led Ignaeus's horse by the reins. The figures retreated into the keep.

Upon hearing the commotion above, the elf attempted to climb up the ditch. Alas! He lost footing and fell down! A volley of arrows whooshed past two brave warriors above. Their horses were wounded. Success! Ignaeus climbed up! Tragedy! Dalkanarion flying through the air, his horse slain!

“Go! Run for the trees!”

The trio fled, surviving several volleys.

“The keep was not abandoned. It was occupied, and its defenders were ready for war...” Thorm informed Ambros and others.

A long night was ahead of them.

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Centuria	Elf level 2	An academic elf fond of teasing those of lower status.
Tu'Fles	Elf level 1	Massive dork for dragons.
Balarus	Fighter level 4	An ex-woodsman, quite a crackshot with his bow.
Bragi Twinefinger	Halfling level 2	A stout strong halfling. As a devotee of the Great Tailor he is always smartly dressed (under his armour) and overly fond of multiple breakfasts.
Ignaeus	Elf level 4	A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Foxglove	Thief level 4	A willowy human, long hair ties in a pony tail, looks a bit dangerous and dainty at the same time.

Gloomfrost 15th, Spiritday

Seven adventurers rode back to the bandit lair of Flaming Eye. Crosonus, Balarus's retainer remained outside to guard the horses, while the chosen six triggered shriekers and descended down the vertical shaft.

Illustration by IdleDoodler.

Orc corpses were missing. Stench of death lingered. Unsure what to make of this, the party moved left, through the doors. Then they turned right at the junction and investigated the doors. While elf and thief listened, Balarus felt something was off. He turned around, only to see four pig-faced corpses approaching them from behind. Adventurers rapidly fell in fighting order. Orcs were not walking—they were slowly floating through air!

Illustration by IdleDoodler.

Transparent liquid spurted left and right as adventures' weapons cut through the bestial remains. All four corpses dropped to the ground, even though they hacked only one of them. Unsure what to make of it, they resumed their exploration. Chamber they broke into was empty, sans nice stacks of silver coins. Foxglove took a look at them, found no traps, and thus, promptly put them in his backpack.

Exiting south led them to a weirdly shaped junction. East corridor was at an angle and led to locked doors, something Foxglove dealt with. He failed to pick the lock, so he hammered it into submission. Bragi explored east corridor, but fled back after seeing a swarm of giant centipedes crawling about. While the thief hammered the lock, Balarus forced the south doors open. A three feet beet charged him in return.

Illustration by IdleDoodler.

It was brief but nasty battle. The beetle tried to bite several adventurers, but they all luckily dodged. Then it squirted some foul liquid and Braggi, but little fella' rolled out of the way in time.

Pressing on south led to yet another junction. Further south were doors underneath which light could be seen. Listening confirmed there was someone beyond—a number of voices speaking in unfamiliar tongue. Party burst through. Neither side was surprised.

Large man dressed in plate mail stepped forth to block the adventurers from spilling into the chamber, while two thugs backed up and prepared oil flasks. The warrior was armed with a long sword and shield—which sported the flaming eye symbol similar to those that orcs by the entrance had. Adventurers got a taste of their own medicine as burning oil flasks broke on their front rank.

“This is just the beginning, you pathetic worms!” the plated warrior laughed. He spat at Balarus and mocked him viciously. Thugs fled backwards, into the darkness, while plated warrior fought on the defensive. Adventurers hit him well, but he refused to go down.

One of the characters threw a coin with continual light down the corridor, illuminating a T-shaped junction, and two thugs holding doors open. The warrior turned around and fled, as they slammed the doors shut.

Illustration by IdleDoodler.

Everyone but Foxglove pursued—the thief was focused on inspecting large chest left behind by the warrior—charging into an empty room! Few empty bedrolls and a fountain with rank, stagnant water. Dolphin head was a nice touch, but other than that the fountain was completely unremarkable.

Illustration by IdleDoodler.

“There must be some sort of secret passageway here!”

“Agreed!”

“Here! A flagstone that stands out!”

Ignaeus pushed the flagstone, and Balarus pushed to wall forward. A long dark corridor prostrated in front of them. Blood drops were visible. They charged forth, unaware of secret doors slamming shut behind them.

Foxglove was too busy counting thousands of coins to notice two cloaked figures sneaking up on him. In a wild turn of events, they both failed to backstab him! The thief parried and blocked. Sneaky duo backed off and fled north, through the doors the part had came through.

Illustration by IdleDoodler.

Foxglove rushed south, only to find he was alone! Meanwhile five pursuing adventurers had to give up. Their prey escaped. Imagine their surprise when they couldn't open one way secret doors! Luckily the thief on the other side was able to find the hidden flagstone, and the party was reunited once more.

Investigating the chamber where they found bandits hadn't revealed what they were looking for—bolts of silk from merchant that Braggi agreed to help.

“This dead end is a bit suspicious...”

Ignaeus had found yet another flagstone! With a little bit of trickery, the party managed to open these doors too! Success! Before them was a chamber filled to the brim with barrels and crates containing various supplies, spices, and yes, bolts of silk.

Foxglove the Trouble Magnet spotted a very nice looking fountain in the corner of the room. It was made of salmon-coloured marble and resembled a lotus flower with two basins beneath it. Water was crystal clears. Where it might be coming from was not clear. There were few coins in each basin. Foxglove flipped a gold coin in the right basin. Then most wondrous thing happened.

The basins folded over the lotus flower, fountain spun in place, and then vanished into ether. “Make a wish and it will come true.” “I wish for old age, wealth, and experience.” Indeed, Foxglove had found himself more experienced.

Satisfied with their discovery, the party had completely abandoned prospects of chasing the bandits. They focused on getting the barrels out and then returning for the rest. Ignaeus had cast Wizard Lock on the secret doors, and party got to rolling. But how do you take a heavy barrel thirty feet up the iron rungs?

“Wasn't there some sort of pulley rig above? Let's use that!”

A brilliant plan.

Balarus climbed. The trapdoor were heavier than usual. It took him significant effort to force them open. As soon as he did so burning pieces of wood and debris fell down the chute. The hut above them was burning! Without many options left, the party focused on consolidating the treasure and preparing it for extraction.

On the following day they attempted to break out once again. It took them three hours to get out proper. Hut had completely burned down. Mushrooms were sliced to pieces. Crosonus hung upside down from a tree, his eyes gouged out and his belly cut wide open. Horses were nowhere to be found.

Judging they don't have sufficient daylight left to haul the treasure back to Hara, adventurers decided to spend another night in the dungeon. Prior to that they lifted all the barrels and prepared them for the long haul. They arrived to Hara on the evening of Gloomfrost 17th, Waterday.

Illustration by IdleDoodler.

There they informed all their colleagues about great wealth left behind. Counting twenty one man strong, they returned and extracted every last coin, returning back to Hara just in time to celebrate the New Year.

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Thorm	Dwarf level 2	Ashen hair, beard, and eyes. Left his own clan due to financial trouble.
Thorin Whiteheart	Cleric level 1	Wide-eyed and innocent goodie-two-shoes.
Centuria	Elf level 1	An academic elf fond of teasing those of lower status.
Tu'Fles	Elf level 1	Massive dork for dragons.

Gloomfrost 14th, Fireday

“And where excatly is this bandit lair full of treasure?” Centuria inquired Balarus. “Shrieking purple mushrooms, orcs with flaming eyes on their shield, white apes, bandits, yes, anything else?”

A humble party of four led by Thorm the dwarf rode to the the bandit lair that Balarus, Bragi, Ignaeus, and Foxglove had just returned from. They wanted to maintain the momentum and prevent bandits from regrouping.

Thorm was joined by Thorin, follower of Umannah, and two bookish elves, namely Centuria and Tu'Fles. They passed the shrooms and descended down the trapdoor into the bandit lair. Eight pig-faced beastmen corpses greeted them, just as Balarus had described.

Illustration by IdleDoodler.

They turned south, then west, forced doors open, then forced south doors, followed the corridor to the junction, turned east, and marched into the chamber.

Thorin failed to see, smell, or hear two large hairy brutes hiding just around the corner. He barely survived the initial onslaught. Beastmen had weird bestial faces—as if someone had flattened a tiger's face by repeatedly hitting it with a shovel. Standing just over seven feet tall, and armed with battle axes, they were no laughing matter. Both focused on Thorm and hacked him to death in less than ten seconds.

Illustration by IdleDoodler.

Centuria and Tu'Fles fell back into the corridor so Thorin could withdraw. Acolyte of Radiant Death poured oil on the ground. Beasts pursued, despite one of them already being on fire! That caused exact result adventurers were hpoing for—both monsters caught fire.

Stench of burnt hair and flesh permeatted tha hallway. Beasts swung wildly as they burned to death. Thorin did not escape their mighty blows, and his light extinguished forever.

Once the flames subsumed the elves recovered one hundred fifty four platinum pieces from the beastmen. Then they decided to haul Thorm's corpse back to Hara. There Centuria kindly requested Ambros ap Mortain to perform a miracle.

Illustration by IdleDoodler.

“Would you please raise Thorm from his sliced up death? We were prepared for the orcs, white apes and bandits, but the adventurer's scouting party had made no mention of there being bugbears!”

Ambros performed another miracle—Balarus being his first one—and brought Thorm back to life.

“Clean out that den of thieves in the name of justice.”

Thorm uttered “Ambros be praised!” with great difficulty, experience of death still fresh in his mind and body.

“Don't forget that you both have to clean the place out...”

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Balarus	Fighter level 4	An ex-woodsman, quite a crackshot with his bow.
Bragi Twinefinger	Halfling level 1	A stout strong halfling. As a devotee of the Great Tailor he is always smartly dressed (under his armour) and overly fond of multiple breakfasts.
Ignaeus	Elf level 4	A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Foxglove	Thief level 4	A willowy human, long hair ties in a pony tail, looks a bit dangerous and dainty at the same time.

Gloomfrost 13th, Earthday

“Look—there, among the trees.” Balarus said to his fellow adventurers whilst motioning at a poorly concealed hut. It was a primitive wooden construction with foliage on top surrounded by a copse of trees. Among the bushes three purplish, hobbit sized mushrooms could be spotted.

Balarus followed the trail from the waylaid barge. A hobbit merchant approached Braggi three days ago. His goods—six barrels of fine silk—were stolen by a bunch of bandits. “All I know is that bastards have a flaming eye painted on their shields!” Some people were killed too, but that wasn't his primary concern. He had little to pay with, but did say that “Listen, there was a chest full of coin there. Proceeds from other merchants... I won't tell anyone if you happen to find it...”

Party of six—Balarus, Bragi, Crosonus, Foxglove, and Ignaeus—rode along the mighty river Farhills. Once they found the shored barge, Balarus was able to follow the tracks all the way to the bandits' hideout.

Foxglove snuck up to the hut. Mushrooms began shrieking violently. Everyone promptly hid in the bushes, missile weapons at the ready. After few minutes the lean-to plank that served as hut's doors fell straight to the ground. Groggy looking pig-faced orc stepped out, shielding his eyes from the sun with his right hand, and holding a saggy wineskin in his right.

He looked around for few seconds. Then he proceed to the closest screaming mushroom and poured some liquid on it. Shroom went quiet. He repeated the process with remaining two. Once they were all quiet, he went back into the hut, lifting the plank back in its place.

Adventurers quietly approached the hut. Shrooms remained quiet. Beefy Balarus grabbed the plank with his mighty thews, and then stepped backwards quietly. Foxglove and Ignaeus moved in, surprising the orc sitting on the ground. Elf skewered the beast straight through its throat. Then he jerked the blade sideways, ripping of half of its neck and face.

Heavy wooden trapdoor with a large iron ring sat at the bottom square-shaped depression. Right next to it were three wooden pillars with one beam jutting above the trapdoor. This was obviously a very primitive pulley system to lift and lower heavy objects through the pit below.

Balarus the Mighty forced the trapdoor open. Iron rungs descended down the thirty feet deep pit. Adventurers dropped down a single gold coin that had continual light cast on it. That hadn't revealed much except that the floor was stone.

Foxglove quietly descended, minding the rungs. You never know where a trap could be. As soon as he jumped down he was jumped by eight bloodthirsty pig-faced monsters armed with hand-axes and shields with flaming eye painted on them. Ignaeus rushed down to help his friend. Balarus and Bragi followed. Brutal skirmish was over in less than a minute. Orcs fought to the bitter end, but were no match for the more experienced and better armed adventurers. Searching their corpses produced four hundred fifty two gold pieces.

There were two exits from the anteroom—-doors to the north and open corridor to the south. Party went north, until they reached a four-way junction. A square chamber with a large marble statue of two lovers kissing was straight ahead. It was a rare crimson marble, and would surely be worth something to an arts collector. Two dozen logs rested against the east wall. The statue rested on hay and straw. The chamber was otherwise empty.

East corridor stretched into darkness, as did the west one. Adventurers opted for the latter one. They soon reached another junction, splintering south and east.

Following east route led them to two dead ends. The first was a rectangular chamber with a number of large ceramic pots with lids. One of them had “DO NOT BREAK” inscribed on top. Foxglove lifted the lid, saw a giant rattle snake slithering amongst thousands of coins, slammed the lid shut, and left the chamber. The second was an unfinished tunnel. Abandoned shovels and pickaxes were strewn about. Adventurers helped themselves to some of the mining equipment.

Then they backtracked and went down the east corridor. Forcing the doors open unleashed horrible stench upon the party. Two large white apes with thick iron collars around their necks charged the adventurers. Balarus slammed the doors shuts, but was driven back by sheer strength of the ape duo.

Ignaeus put his magical sword to use and froze one of the apes. Balarus killed the other one with a single blow. He swung his battle axe straight down the giant ape's right shoulder until he hit the hip. Then he kicked the simian, jerking his two-handed axe loose. Nothing but vile stench was to be found in this chamber.

Forcing the south doors led the party to another junction. Pressing further south resulted with an interesting encounter.

“W-who goes there?” a meek voice inquired from darkness.

“Justice!” Ignaeus retorted and marched on.

Four scrawny guys huddled in a center of square chamber. They were armed with spears. Shields with the familiar motif of flaming eye leaned against the south wall. The party hesitated for seven seconds before running them down. One dared to attempt escape. Balarus and Bragi shot him down. Although scrawny, the four bandits had a total of six hundred forty six gold pieces.

“Let's head back to Hara, heal, and return here.”

Everyone agreed. Riding back, they reached the fortified city of merchants several hours after dusk.

Will their follow-up delve be as successful as the first one?

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A special one-shot session to celebrate third birthday of our Wilderlands campaign Conquering the Barbarian Altanis. Players controlled a set of characters whom were tricked into being he first ones to open the mythical Red Gates of Chudengora.

Denril’s Tale of Chudengora written by Kublaibenzine whom played Amril the Clumsy and Denril Lighttoes. Crumpled Scroll by Akragon of Apollo courtesy of Theo whom played Akragon and Erevos.

Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Amril the Clumsy	Dwarf level 1	Short and stocky dwarf. Been around for some time. Impressive mental fortitude but two left feet.
Denril Lighttoes	Elf level 1	Malnourshied, weak and weedy elf with no muscle and constant chest problems. Dreams of adventuring, but no one wants him.
Inlissior	Elf level 1	A dwarfish-looking elf. Handsome and blessed with fake-looking beard. Weak cough plagues him.
Bullon	Dwarf level 1	An elvish-looking dwarf. Dashing and attractive.
Akragon	Cleric level 1	Tall, well-built, plague survivor. Devout.
Erevos	Thief level 1	Dark haired and dark eyed lanky and wiry thief of quick reflexes and wit. Enjoys civilisation.

Denril’s Tale of Chudengora

The Gods alone knew how we reached the top of Bludgeon Peak, but there ahead of us was the long staircase leading to Chudengora. Our employer must have been desperate to hire a bunch of raw adventurers such as ourselves, or he figured our low salaries were worth paying on the off-hand chance we would find the Red Gates open.

Well, we proved him wrong and some of us even made it out.

The gates were wide open and we entered the antechamber of this fastness, full of awe and pride. The floor was some kind of elven concrete, the scale was a bit underwhelming, yet our attention was captured by 6 statues, 5 male and one female, clearly deities. Oddly, the male statues had clearly been decapitated cleanly and swapped around. They were all bearded, arrogant looking beings. Our Cleric recognized one as representing Medicine, while the others could be guessed at as Death, War, Craftsmanship and Justice. The female was unknown, haughty looking in her peasant robe.

There were 3 single doors and one double door, all leading to the unknow and all made of fine, iron-bound wood. We scattered to listen for sounds beyond the doors. It was perhaps unwise of us.

Erevos was the first of us to fall, as half a dozen fire beetles burst through the northern door. Within seconds he was neatly severed in two. Amril the Clumsy fell next, hacking at the beasts. Typically, he tripped over his feet and the beetle just gored him.

We survivors fled through the open northern door while the beetles feasted on the corpses. The room had old weapons racks and rudimentary tables in it, all damaged by time. There was but one exit, East, so we took it and closed the door behind us.

We were in a long corridor with a door at the end as well as a junction south. We opened the door to discover a small room full of crates caked in the dust of ages. As we sneezed and coughed in fits, 13 giant rats came down the corridor at us. We closed the door, Akragos the Cleric throwing a vial of burning oil as we did so. Inlission still took a mild bite in the process. When we opened the door again, the vermin were dead or gone and we hastened south without exploring the crates, for fear more would show up.

We soon reached a 4-way intersection. The western side held a door, which opened onto what might have been a reception hall, all ruined now. On the opposite side was a door, which we estimated led back into the antechamber.

Backing out and going west, we entered a circular room. There were 5 masks on the wall and a spot where a sixth had once rested. Seated beneath that spot was a decayed skeleton in antique chain. A corridor exited the room on the east side. We took it and found a north south corridor. To the north we immediately found an iron door, which we were unable to open.

We then went south, taking the first corridor to the west, entering an irregular, almost T shaped space that contained empty bookshelves and two more exits to the west. We suspected the upper west exit led to the north and back towards our entry point.

We doubled back to the corridor and found a southern facing door which led to a dead-end room. This contained a damaged altar dedicated to War and half a dozen large sconces, each containing a skeleton with an odd metallic sheen. We backed out hastily and went back to the irregular bookshelf room.

Here we took the southernmost corridor running west, which soon turned south and ended at another door. Opening this, we were confronted by an overwhelming stench and the sight of old carpets and furniture overgrown by orange mould. Fearing the worst, Bullon tossed a flaming vial in and closed the door for a few minutes.

Re-opening the door did not reveal anything moving, so we hastened across the room to a southern door. This gave on to what appeared to be a large 20-foot-wide corridor running east and west, with a double door nearby going east and a single door south.

The double door east gave on to a large circular room that might have once been barracks. A corridor led north from it into a room full of crates, less dusty than the other batch.

Back in the east west corridor, we tried the south door. It was a room with detritus and parts of 4 skeletons. A corrido ran east from it. We heard echoing voices in the room and uncertain of what it meant, we did not explore here further, but closed the door again and went west down the wide corridor.

We soon noticed another door giving south. Entering it we beheld a long, wide steel reinforced oak table covered in multi-coloured stains. The walls had iron shelves, also stained. The ground was strewn with broken vials and coloured oozes. The smell of rot and acid pervaded. We entered anyways. There were two doors herein. An eastern door led to a small library full of rotting tomes. Exploring for a few minutes we found a book of ancient lore, a map of an area completely unknown to any of us and some odd elvish book of games with their rules. We left all and went back into the alchemical room to try the south door. This gave onto another storage room full of crates and a door leading south, which we could not open.

Again, we backed up to the large east-west corridor and went west. It led us to a very large circular four-way intersection with a statue holding a trident – the head was again one that didn’t match the body. Realizing that the northern corridor led back to the antechamber, we headed in that direction, stopping only to explore the first door on the west. This gave onto a dog leg shaped room with two exits. The table therein seemed to contain playing pieces similar to those mentioned in the book on elven games. We backed out and resumed our journey north, ignoring a door on the east side.

When we reached the double doors that we estimated must lead to the antechamber, we opened them with great trepidation. We were lucky and left through the main entrance to take the news the news of our findings to our employer.

We were pleased to be alive, proud of what we had done, but sad about our two lost friends.

Crumpled Scroll by Akragon of Apollo

#Wilderlands #OneShot #SessionReport

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Comments

Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Tamren	Cleric level 3	Stoic paladin of Coriptis, the Goddess of Battle and Inamorata of Berserkers. Aventail hides all but his two piercing blue eyes.
Flamthwynn	Magic-user level 3	An older gentleman sporting fashionable dark blue robe with purplish overtones. Seeking arcane objects and offensive spell.
Balarus	Fighter level 4	An ex-woodsman, quite a crackshot with his bow.
Bragi Twinefinger	Halfling level 1	A stout strong halfling. As a devotee of the Great Tailor he is always smartly dressed (under his armour) and overly fond of multiple breakfasts.
Ignaeus	Elf level 4	A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Foxglove	Thief level 4	A willowy human, long hair ties in a pony tail, looks a bit dangerous and dainty at the same time.

Gloomfrost 1st, Airday

Tamren pointed at two plumes of dark smoke raising behind a crest atop Ghinarian hills. Paladins of Coriptis must earn their ranks in combat, besting beasts or men of higher power and skill than their own. Failing to do that means they will be forever denied the honour of joining their deity's harem.

He was joined by Flamthwynn, whom had found courage since his Antil days, Bragi, Ignaeus, Foxglove, and Balarus, whom had brought along hired muscle named Crosonus. The party of seven rode light riding horses, covering forty miles in a single morning watch.

The six followed Tamren to an ogre lair, where supposedly a band of nasty brutes lives. Foxglove rode up the hill and surveyed the surroundings. He found a pothole, some twenty feet wide, just behind a rock outcropping. Light wisps of smoke were coming out of it.

Riding closer, the thief could see that pothole leads into a long tunnel. He rode back to the party and informed them of his findings.

Tamren led the charge towards the hole. Everyone dismounted and left the horses with Crosonus. Then they walked towards the opening.

Foxglove raised his hand, showing an open palm. He put a finger to his pursed lips, signaling everyone to be quiet.

Large figure sat in the tunnel, leaning against a boulder. Big club rested to its side. Its ugly head was slumped, and it slurred loudly. Its hands were on large belly, going up and down.

The thief moved quietly down the tunnel. At one moment he stepped on loose rock which cracked. The beast did not react. Foxglove circled the figure until it was right by its right side. He raised his short sword and thrust it downwards right into the beast's shoulder blade. Then he jerked the blade straight towards the heart.

Ogre screamed in pain. It jumped up, swinging wildly. Foxglove was quick enough to evade this outburst of activity. Ignaeus and Tamren charged in to help. Alas, everyone missed. Everyone but ogre that is. The beast punched Foxglove straight into his face, sending teeth flying.

Surrounded and wounded, the monster fled down the tunnel.

“Freeze!” Ignaeus yelled.

“Oh no you don't...” Foxglove muttered as he felled the fleeing beast with throwing dagger straight into the back of its neck.

Adventurers continued down the tunnel. Cave ceiling became lower and lower, until the tunnel was barely ten feet tall. Their path forward was obstructed by a set of heavy leather skins hanging from the ceiling hooks. The smoke was slowly rolling from underneath them. Flicker of light were visible. Ignaeus could hear a deep voice humming a joyful tune.

Tamren indicated in proto-sign language that he is ready for violence and that they should let him solo the beast. Ignaeus approached the leather curtain, crouched gingerly, and then raised it abruptly.

Before them was a low cave, some thirty feet wide and long. Fires burning in three sunk firepits illuminated a horrific scene: three rows of wooden stakes skewered through a dozen dismembered humanoids. The humming ogre was fanning one of the fire pits, producing extra smoke. Another looked dumbfounded by the fact that more food would come into their smokehouse willingly.

Tamren charged in, screaming “Coriptis, witness me!”, going for the smaller of two ogres. The rest went for the bigger ogre. Dark smoke that filled the room made it difficult to fight. Everyone cried as their eyes swelled and turned red.

Ignaeus once again used his magical sword to freeze his opponent, making it an easy carving job. Tamren, on the other hand, was a bit less successful. First, his target ran from him. Then the beast fanned smoke from the pit straight into his eyes. Then it ran through the west exit.

Tamren yelled like a madman, chasing it down. Others joined, if nothing to prevent the ogre from fleeing. Balarus the Immovable Object ran ahead of the ogre into the narrow tunnel it was going for, and positioned himself so it cannot pass without wrestling him first.

The ogre wept in distress as Paladin of Coriptis yelled challenge after challenge. The party then enjoyed as show of incompetence as both Tamren and ogre kept missing each other. But then the ogre landed two mighty blows, forcing the cleric to take a sip of nasty puss-like liquid in order to heal up.

Balarus stepped in and hurled insults so vile that ogre turned its attention to him instead. The fighter deflected few blows. The only problem was that he used his skull to deflect one. Tamren screamed at the ogre, forcing the beast to face him once again. As it turned he drove his sword right through its neck, killing it in place.

Red-eyed and bloodied, adventurers grabbed two bloody sacks of coin from the smokery and fled for their horses. Tamren has slain what he needed to. Who cares if there were more ogres here, right? After all, what could they possibly do once they find three of their own dead? Surely nothing.

Given it was winter, it already got dark in the evening. Hence the party opted to ride for Midway, sleep at the inn there, and head for Hara next morning. There Ambros and Tarkus healed everyone up. Party of seven then decided not to head back to the ogre lair, but to go seeking their buried treasure instead. This expedition was a great success and they returned back to Hara on Gloomfrost 7th, Waterday.

With only thirteen days before end of the year, a single question arises:

What will the adventurers do next?

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Comments

Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Tamren	Cleric level 3	Stoic paladin of Coriptis, the Goddess of Battle and Inamorata of Berserkers. Aventail hides all but his two piercing blue eyes.
Balarus	Fighter level 4	An ex-woodsman, quite a crackshot with his bow.
Bragi Twinefinger	Halfling level 1	A stout strong halfling. As a devotee of the Great Tailor he is always smartly dressed (under his armour) and overly fond of multiple breakfasts.
Ambros	Cleric level 6	Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Ignaeus	Elf level 4	A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.

Maggotfeast 9th, Fireday

“Follow me, follow me!” One-Eyed Tulen, excitedly motioned at the party. Terribly deformed Altanian tracker—courtesy of brutal torture he suffered at Graylock's hands—had found hyena's lair.

A hilly mound surrounded by large trees shrouded a wide cave opening. But following the trail of the large lioness revealed a much narrower tunnel leading upwards.

Balarus, still too weak to move on his own, remained outside of the lair. Beorg and Tarkus stayed behind to protect him. Tamren, joined by Bragi Twinefinger, a stout strong halfling, found the party through divine guidance.

“Ambros, remember what you promised me!” Tulen slurred.

“I am the Law. But in this case I will allow you to be the executor of the Law!”

And with those words, Ambros led the party through the narrow tunnel. After a short incline, the adventurers entered into a small, some twenty feet wide cave. An extinguished fire-pit was in the center, two soiled blankets to the east, and several gnawed bones to the west. And nothing else.

Thoroughly searching the cave revealed pits on the north wall. Ignaeus used them as handholds and footholds to climb upwards. Once he hit the ceiling he discovered that part of it was hollow—a thin sheet of rock had been placed to conceal an opening.

Ignaeus quietly slid it to the side and then climbed up. That led him into another tunnel, albeit a short one. After just a few steps he came to a ledge overlooking another cave, similar in size to the previous one.

Except this cave was filled with crates and barrels. Pit-handholds allowed him to descend safely. Others followed him. Bragi remained above, on the ledge, providing light with his lantern.

Ambros motioned to the right, where narrow tunnel slopped upwards. Ignaeus followed him closely, and Tamren took the rear guard. Cleric of Law took confident, but careful, steps forward.

His mindful approach paid off!

As he approached another the tunnel exit, Ambros felt something is off. He raised his shield just in time to deflect a battleaxe swing. Large gnoll towered over the cleric, growling. It was dressed in chain-shirt, and wielded large two-handed battleaxe.

The monster seized a perfect spot to fight. The tunnel was too narrow to allow those behind to join the fray. Maintaining its momentum, the gnoll swung once more, striking the cleric true.

“Freeze!” whilst Ambros grunted, Ignaeus lifted Volmorin's Blade and yelled the command word.

Graylock froze solid in place, his eyes filled with burning rage.

“Bragi. Go fetch Tulen.”

While waiting for the one-eyed hunchback, Tamren and Ignaeus inspected all the crates and barrels. There they discovered enough dried meat, fruits, and nuts to account for 60 days worth of iron rations. They also found eight bottles and four pins of Midway Red, famous regional wine.

Ambros cast another Hold Person at the gnoll, just in case. Then he cast Detect Magic. His eyes increased ten-fold as Graylock was completely bathed in purplish glow: his armour, battleaxe, handaxe by the hip, and one of the rings pulsated with dim light.

Further, arrows in the quiver by south wall also lit up, as did something in one of the smaller chests.

“You bastard... You bastard!” Tulen wobbled towards the gnoll, knife at ready. Ambros gave him a nod, and tracker enacted his revenge. He took his time—a little bit over half an hour—to carve the monster up. Once the bloody ordeal had been done, the party ransacked all the caves recovering thousand gold pieces, two hundred and fifty platinum pieces, one long bow, two quivers with arrows, one quiver with fourteen magical arrows, three vials of puss-like substance, and all equipment from Graylock.

“Wait... What is this?”

They also found terribly cut and blood-soaked piece of parchment on Graylock. Nothing but “Kyle” was readable.

“I told you there is some fuckery going on here.” Tamren was heard muttering from behind. Lord Kyle governs Midway—home of the famous wine.

But most importantly of all, Ambros could for the first time in many months breath normally. He felt a heavy burden fall off his shoulders.

Adventurers spent their whole next day packing all the goods and treasure, as well as planning their route back. They were to go to Ketche, meet up with sailors who brought them here, and then sail back to Hara.

Coldrain 8th, Earthday

It took the adventurers nearly a month to return to Ketche. Although arduous, their journey was otherwise devoid of any significant danger or threat. They were warmly welcomed and Beklomda Mor threw another feast in their honour.

Some woke up with a splitting headache next day. Part of the headache was surely the fact that their sailors were long gone. But how could one blame them? It has been over two months since they set off in the jungle to hunt down a notorious gnoll assassin.

Tamren bartered with fishermen, arranging transport in exchange of two bottles and two pins of Midway Red. Not a bad deal considering everything.

Before leaving, Ambros threw Graylock's head into the sea, saying prayers to Poseidon, Aniu, and Forseti. With his divine debt finally repaid, the party left for Hara.

Coldrain 10th, Spiritday

“Look! It is Ambros! We were worried you perished in that forsaken place!” guards were delighted to see the cleric alive.

“And I am happy to return. Pray tell, what is latest in Hara?”

Adventurers learned that new castellan was hard at work, cracking down on many issues plaguing the city. She prohibited carrying weapons and armours in city—everyone must tie them in a tight bundle and carry them like a haversack. Namelin and his thugs are not too happy about that.

Coldrain brings winter. Altanis is still warm, but days are shorter. New Year is coming soon. What will the adventurers do next?

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

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Comments

Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Balarus	Fighter level 4	An ex-woodsman, quite a crackshot with his bow.
Tarkus the Promising	Cleric level 4	Follower of Bachontoi, God of Red Wisdom.
Beorg the Gravedigger	Fighter level 3	Inspired to adventure after burying several adventurers.
Ambros	Cleric level 6	Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Ignaeus	Elf level 4	A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Guin Pin	Magic-User level 3	A young, short man with buzz-cut, black hair, dressed in a tuxedo black and white robe. He walks with a limp, which makes him wobble.

Redleaves 7th to 12th

“Our city has been blessed by the Gods!”

Town criers of Hara worked overtime to break the news.

“Ambros Ap Mortain is our new High Priest of Forseti!”

Crowds cheered with delight, with the exception of few sour faces that squirm at doing things fairly.

“Ambros Ap Mortain is our new Justice Supreme of Hara!”

But Ambros had little reason to cheer.

Every night the same nightmare.

At the bottom of a deep well.

Blinded by the sun above.

Unable to move.

Whilst water slowly fills the well.

Every night.

Every single night.

Ambros had little time before the wrath of Poseidon befalls him.

And anyone with him.

Redleaves 15th, Spiritday

“Are you threatening us, ugly grandpa?!”

Largest of five drunk Altanians chucked stool aside, jumping up with his whole bulk.

Balarus poised himself, ready to swing the obsidian blade at the first person who dares raise hand against Ambros. Tarkus and Beorg were ready at the table.

Few days ago Ambros hired an experienced crew of marines to take them to Ketche. They were intercepted by pirates en route, but Tarkus the Witty managed to resolve that without any violence whatsoever.

Unfortunately, Ambros failed to negotiate a tracker with Beklomda Mor, the chieftain. She asked Ambros to remain in the village, which he refused due to his obligations in the “civilisation,” which Beklomda had no interest in.

So he and party set out to get everyone drunk at the Goat's Beard inn, hoping to find learn anything they can about gnoll assassin Greylock. Ambros had to slay him in order to complete the geas he had accepted in return for Mavis, High Priestess of Poseidon, raising Hagar from the dead.

Locals found his plea very amusing. Until Ambros raised his voice.

“I am the Law!”

Seeing that fist fight is imminent, Ignaeus raised his scimitar and yelled “Freeze!”

Big Altanian froze in place. Everyone else suddenly begun paying more attention.

“Listen! Only One-Eyed Tulen would be dumb enough to help you! You can find his hut three hundred yards south of here.”

“Thank you.” Ambros and his retinue left, seeking the man recommended to them.

Ketche is a small coastal village secluded in the Eyestones jungle, surrounded by danger in all directions. Nonetheless, finding Tulen's hovel hadn't proven to be an issue. Speaking with the man without retching, on the other hand, had proven to be much bigger issue.

True to his name, One-Eyed Tulen lacked left eye. He was badly crooked, his arms bent and deformed, his legs bowing outward, half of teeth missing, and those present yellowed with rot. He reeked of offal.

“I will help you find Greylock if you give me the pleasure of driving a dagger into his evil heart!” Tulen mumbled slowly.

“I am the Law. It is customary that I enact and execute justice. But in this case I will make an exception. I will allow you to deliver the killing blow.” Ambros declared.

At that Tulen fell down on his knees, weeping tears of anger and joy. From his right eye that is. A mix of pus and tear seeped out of his left eye socket.

“Let's not make him cry again.” Tarkus whispered.

“So, how do we hunt down this gnoll?”

“We will follow the coastline until we reach the southern most point. Then we will make our way deeper into the jungle. Greylock has a pack of hyenas and a large lioness. If we encounter either of those, we can track them back to his lair.”

“Let's set out then.”

“Master Ambros, night is about to fall. I suggest leaving after sun rises again! You can sleep here with me.”

“No, thank you. We will meet you here in the morning.”

The party booked all of Goat's Beard inn for the night. Everyone slept well. Everyone but Ambros. Water reached his waist.

Maggotfeast 5th, Spiritday

“Aaaghhh! Here! Here!”

Tulen cried in anger pointing at an ominously looking tree.

“What? What is it?” adventurers surrounded him, alarmed. They've spent last ten days following his lead. Out of those, three had been spent searching in deep jungle.

“This is where he crucified me! This is where he broke my bones! This is where they feasted on me!”

It took Ambros significant effort to calm Tulen down. Following brief discussion, the party had decided to hunt down some game, pile the corpses, and then wait in ambush hoping that hyenas or Greylock take the bait.

Maggotfeast 6th, Airday

“Aaaaaa!”

Guin Pin fled wobbling as giant shrew chased him. Beorg also broke down, fleeing for his life. After all, dead will not bury themselves!

Balarus, Ambros, Tarkus, and Ignaeus squared off against seven fierce giant shrews. Balarus got bitten thrice, but that was nothing for the mighty warrior. Shrews fought until the bitter end, but ultimately they were no match for the heavily armed and armoured adventurers.

Oversized rodents were collected and dumped into one pile. A campfire was lit next to them. Adventurers spread out in 120 feet radius, bows and slings at the ready.

The wait was on.

Maggotfeast 7th, Waterday

Ambros stretched as much as he could. No matter how hard he tried, he could not lift feet off the ground. The water was all the way up to jaw. He tilted his head all the way back, so he could breathe.

Branch cracking under hyena's paw snapped him back. He dozed off during the ambush they have prepared. No one took a shot yet. Everyone waited.

The hyena carefully approached the shrew pile. Seeing there is no danger, it took a bite of one, and then jumped back. Confirming that there is indeed no danger, five hyenas stepped into the light, and begun munching on the dead rodents.

Adventurers acted in unison, releasing arrows and slinging stones. All five hyenas were killed in less than thirty seconds.

The party waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Guin Pin did not hear he.

But he surely felt her.

Massive lioness dropped on him from above, ripping him to shreds.

Beorg charged the lioness with his polearm, missing terribly. Ambros, Balarus, and Ignaeus joined the fray as well. Tarkus circled the melee, and pulled Guin Pin from underneath the large cat.

“Oh nooo, I was julienned!” the magic-user cried as Tarkus brought him back to life.

Lioness dished out pain in generous servings. She clawed left and right, pouncing and pounding. But it was here bite that severed Balarus in half, leaving him dead on the spot. Ambros was severely injured too. Others were not unscathed either. Magic-User decided glory is better than death, and he threw himself at the beast armed with nothing but dagger and large cojones.

The battle was brutal, bloody, and desperate. Adventurers missed more often than not. And even when their blows connected, they rarely did significant damage. But through sheer persistence and attrition, they managed to whittle the beast down.

When giant lioness turned to flee Beorg seized the opportunity. He hooked her with his halberd, and jerked her back. As Ignaeus slit her throat with his scimitar, Beorg jammed the halberd straight into the gaping wound, skewering the monster.

It was over.

They were victorious.

But there was no time to celebrate.

Clerics healed as many wounds as they could.

Then they resumed their positions.

What they came for still hasn't appeared.

Thus, they waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Until the sun rose.

But Greylock hadn't come.

Exhausted and battered, they dragged Balarus's corpse with them, and camped at the safest spot they could find. Perhaps gods smiled on them. Perhaps, but Ambros knew better.

Maggotfeast 8th, Earthday

Balarus opened his eyes.

He laid on soft grass, branches poking his soft flesh.

Ambros was kneeling next to him, obviously exhausted.

“Wow...” the warrior muttered, whilst tapping himself in disbelief.

Although in horrible pain and terribly weak, he was truly alive.

“Oh, do we need to return him his items now?” one of the adventurers, best left unnamed, inquired.

Ambros pulled a miracle to bring his fellow adventurer back to life.

But will he be able to save his own life?

Or will next Waterday spell his doom?

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Balarus	Fighter level 3	An ex-woodsman, quite a crackshot with his bow.
Ignar Erikson	Fighter level 3	Strong, tall, broad warrior with piercing blue eyes and a fashionable winged helm.
Tarkus the Promising	Cleric level 4	Follower of Bachontoi, God of Red Wisdom.
Beorg the Gravedigger	Fighter level 3	Inspired to adventure after burying several adventurers.
Ambros	Cleric level 6	Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Ignaeus	Elf level 4	A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.

Redleaves 5th, Spiritday

“Oh, here it is!”

Tarkus and Beorg led the adventurers back to the crypt south-east of Midway. Their stop at the village just a day ago was very short-lived, for they were not welcome at all. But that did not bother our heroes that much, since they only had one thing on their mind: dungeon delving.

Well, two things actually. Safe dungeon delving. Hence they opted to revisit a dungeon they've been to nearly a year ago, where they smashed everything open, crossed the trapped hallway, navigated the maze, liberated the wrongfully imprisoned king, and extracted their hard earned coin.

Perhaps there was something they had missed?

Rappelling down the pit revealed nothing much had changed. The stone slab was still pushed inwards, allowing anyone to enter and leave the crypt as they desire. Adventurers opted to avoid the chamber with laughing skulls and cleaving meathooks.

They explored the left wing of long mausoleum, which led them to a large circular chamber completely filled with skeletal remains of hundreds, if not thousands, creatures. Bone pile towered eight feet tall, and filled the full circumference of the chamber.

Without anything better to do, adventurers decide to clean up this mess by moving it from this chamber to another chamber. Couple of hours later and they found a hidden trapdoor with a chest. One thousand and five hundred gold pieces, as well as five nice gems, were their reward. Wise beyond their age, they closed the trapdoor so they are not slowed down as they explore the dungeon.

Next, they followed narrow exit out of the mausoleum with hundreds of crypts into the square chamber with obviously chaotic temple. Giving it a wide berth they walked down a long corridor slopping downwards. With each step they got deeper and deeper into purple fog.

“Wait! Allow me to move first and sweep the floor! Last time we were here we were attacked by blobs of burning flesh!” Beorg cautioned his friends and did what he said he would do.

Nothing assaulted them.

The mist was emanating from onyx black stone gates just at the end of the corridor. Purple haze seeped out from underneath and various barely visible orifices. To the adventurers' left were the steps leading into the trapped hallway, while to their right were large gates of pure white marble. Purple fog bounced off of an invisible barrier just in front of the white gates.

“Interesting...”

Balarus and Ignar, two mighty warriors, had to give it their all to barely open the gates. What a sight greeted them!

A square chamber, with walls, ceiling, and floor all made out of white marble. Facing them, in a semi-circle, were nine pedestals, all illuminated by a source-less spotlight. Upon central pedestal, which was broader and taller than the rest, a golden gavel inlaid with precious stone bands, rested.

Following several turns of careful inspection, one of the adventurers dare to approach the gavel. It was Ambros, Elder of Aniu. First he hovered his palm over the gavel. Others noticed how Ambros zoned out for a bit, lagging in his replies to their inquiries. Then everyone saw the cleric reach for the gavel.

Ambros's eyes turned upside-down, his fist clenched around the gavel, and he slumped to the ground, frothing from his mouth and trashing about. Without missing a beat all the adventurers jumped on him, grabbing him by the legs and arms so he doesn't hurt himself. Beorg tried to pry the gavel out of his hand with the dagger, but failed miserably.

How surprised Ambros was when he opened his eyes! Pinned down by his own colleagues and allies! He shook himself free and rolled to the side. Tarkus and Balarus addressed him in Lawful, asking him if he was well. Of course he was! The Ignar asked him if he could let go of the gavel. Of course he could! Would he? Of course he would! And Ambros put the gavel in his backpack.

“What god do you pray to?” Ignar continued his line of inquiry. Ambros gave a passionate sermon on timelessness of Aniu. Tarkus, vicar of Bachontoi, confirmed that this was indeed a prayer to Aniu and was as legitimate as far as he could tell.

“All is good then, I guess...” for rest of the expedition Ignar kept a close eye on Ambros.

As Ambros stepped out, and walked towards the purple fog it gave way as if some invisible force-field was around the cleric. With these interesting turn of events, the party decided to attempt the onyx gates.

Balarus and Ignar heaved as they tried again and again and again. They regretted their success as soon as it came. The duo pushed the black gates open, smashing them against the chamber walls. Before them was a whirlpool of raging purple mist flowing towards the central hole.

A horde of figures in various stages of decomposition were continuously trying to climb out of the hole. They pushed and pushed at the thick purple goo covering them, but were unable to cut through it. Moreover, the figures would frequently turn on each other, pulling the one on the top downwards.

The chamber was circular, with no visible ceiling. Purple fog rolled down the walls, joining the whirlpool. Most of it was sucked into the oozy portal, while the rest was fanned out into the corridor. An ancient leather canoe with a single paddle rested on the other side of the chamber, directly opposite from the entrance. Numerous runes and symbols covered its sides.

“Ambros, this might be your calling!” Ignar encouraged the cleric.

Indeed, Ambros was the sole adventurer who dared enter this accursed chamber. As before, the mist evaporated in his presence. Upon coming closer to the bottomless hole, figures were violently pulled down by horrible shapes that clawed their way to the top. They too were unable to pierce through the surface.

Without much more to do, Ambros stepped out.

Ignaeus came to the threshold. There he cast Read Magic and Read Languages. And then he dared to read the scriptures on the canoe. Fighting violent visions, the elf surmised that this is some sort of vessel that allows one to traverse the “river of lost souls,” whatever they might be.

“Let's close these doors, get our treasure, and get out of here!”

And so they did! Very promptly, if one might add.

The question is: will they return to squeeze the dry rag once again?

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

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