Background

I ran an OD&D one-shot at the local gaming club for a group of players that were willing to give older ruleset a try. Three players rolled two characters, and one player rolled three.

Character creation took around 30 minutes, and the game session took around three hours. We played legendary Caverns of Thracia. Everybody quickly picked-up the rules and the game flowed smoothly.

See end of the post for more on preparation.

Adventurers

In alphabetic order:

Character	Class	Alignment
Andre the Pious	Fighting-Man	Lawful
Bojan Bakrovic	Fighting-Dwarf	Neutral
Catalina	Magic-User	Chaotic
Clarisa	Cleric	Lawful
Keith	Cleric	Lawful
Lindon	Cleric	Lawful
Serene	Fighting-Elf	Neutral
Wilhelm Popovic	Cleric	Lawful
Xander	Magic-User	Neutral

One sunny day in the Barbarian Altanis

Adventuring party of nine finally found the fabled Lost City of Thracia. For the past day they've been trawling through lizard-men infested swamp. Most trawled waist-deep; Bojan had to do so at nipple-height.

The party approached the ruins from the west side, exiting the swamp southwards. Carefully inspecting the closest ruined building revealed little of interest. The largest building, what once used to be a temple, dominated the vista. Alas, it had no visible egresses sans the breakage in the walls caused by overgrowth.

Lindon, secured with rope and held steadfast by Wilhelm and Bojan, approached a dilapidated well and peered down. A lone torch burned at the bottom of the deep hole. The dwarf estimated the depth to be between 60 and 100 feet.

Scuttling alongside the temple wall, adventurers proceeded north, investigating their surrounding. Andre the Pious, or the Tenfoot Pole Bearer, led the way tapping and checking for traps. He was asked to inspect the largest crack in the wall, which he was happy to do.

Climbing up the tree trunk allowed him to peek into the ruined temple. Lo and behold, a staircase leading into darkness was visible. Just like four hyena-headed humanoids. Andre dropped back, and the party formed battle ranks by the fissure.

Two gnolls emerged and clashed against the front rank. One of the hairy beasts swung its mighty battle axe, landing it straight between Keith's ears. His head burst like an overripe watermelon. Clarisa the Cleric soon suffered a similar grisly fate.

Bojan and Lindon revenged them in quick succession, murdering two gnolls. A brief exchange of blows ensued with the surviving gnolls, which soon gave up and fled, leaving a bloody trail leading down the stairs.

“Chase them!”

“Wait! My mule!”

Catalina stayed behind, trying to get the mule to climb the tree trunk and enter the ruined temple. Others gave chase and followed the gnolls underground.

Lighting a lantern revealed a large chamber filled with rubble and debrief. Everything was caked with faeces of varying dryness. Blood trail led east. Up north were large double doors, ajar. To the west was a dead end, and to the east a corridor. Looking up, the dwarf spotted hundreds of bats—source of brown material coating the floor, no doubt.

“Let's slow down.”

Adventurers continued their pursuit, albeit now proceeding carefully, tapping the ground with the ten foot pole. A turn, and a turn, and then another turn, and then yet another! But this time, there were closed doors, and blood led to them.

“I have a plan.” Bojan announced whilst taking out his trust iron pitons. Then he knelt by the doors and begun hammering them in, one by one.

Andre watched guard over the north corridor. Alas, he was taken by surprisingly ferocious charge of four gnolls lead by a squat man with doberman head. Wilhelm reinforced the fighter, checking the beastmens' charge. Alas, that spelled doom for the cleric and soon he was nothing but bloody mess.

“Look how pathetic they are! Capture them all!” dog-man barked at the gnolls. One of the adventures understood him, and promptly conveyed the message to others.

Partially spiked doors were constantly banged on; as if something or someone is trying to force the open. Adventurers kept hammering in pitons, preventing the doors from being forced open.

Focusing the efforts on the dog-man soon produced results. The beast was a great swordsman, but it could not withstand adventurers' superior skills. Andre's blow forced the monster to the ground. Bojan ensured it dies an agonising death by brutally severing one of its limbs.

At this moment the party obviously had an upper hand. They rallied and pressed on against four gnolls, slaying two. Remaining two fled down the long corridor. Lindon beheaded the dog-man's corpse and left it in front of the spiked door. Just so beastmen know who they are dealing with.

Once again the party gave chase, but soon gave up after running down several hundred feet long corridor slopping downwards.

“Let's go back and check the double doors?”

“Sounds good.”

Spiked doors were still jammed shut; the captives were still banging to get out.

Passing through the double doors revealed a thirty feet wide, long corridor. Two lines of columns ran along, derelict but still structural sound. Andre ran up to fetch Catalina. The rest pushed on, finding a fissure in the corridor.

Bojan took a look; it was deep, but too scraggy for anything human to climb up. Further north was a pile of rubble flanked by two doors. Left were shut, right were slightly ajar.

Serene took a look.

Two yellowish reptilian eyes looked back at her.

The doors swung open.

Two naked lizardmen with clubs greeted the party.

Behind them was another lizardman tending to a wounded one on the ground.

The elf was knocked unconscious in a single blow.

The lizards grabbed her body and begun to drag her into the chamber. Andre tried to shut the doors, but left that and tried to wrestle Serene's body instead. Alas, lizardmen were stronger.

“Onwards!”

Party forced their way into the room and total chaos ensued.

Bojan was brutally mauled. He collapsed to the ground, with severe headache. The only thing that saved his life was his amazing greathelm. With last ounces of strength he crawled to his crossbow and fired it.

He missed.

Xander the Magic-User suffered traumatic brain injury, courtesy of yet another club wielding lizardman. He lied prostrate.

Andre the Pious delivered the killing blow to the biggest of four lizardmen. But there was no celebration to be had. Catalina gasped as spear was driven through her abdomen. She collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

“Get out! Run!”

Andre yelled at Lindon.

Cleric nodded, and withdrew from the chamber.

Andre took lit a torch.

Then he smashed an oil flask upon the backpack of his fallen comrade.

He knew damn well that backpack was full of flammable flasks.

And then he hit it, hard, with a burning torch.

Lindon could see a ball of fire blowing out of the chamber.

Silence and smell of burn flesh followed.

Turning around, the cleric opened the west doors.

An abandoned chapel.

A long ruined statue of unknown god.

Lindon said a silent prayer.

And then he got the fuck out of the dungeon.

Preparation notes

I decided to used just the little brown books since they have less rules. Since I didn't want to be the bottle neck (e.g. have players wait for me while I'm explaining something to another player), I prepared a series of player facing reference sheets:

• one for each class (Fighting-Man, Magic-User, Cleric)
• one-page for races
• equipment
• character creation steps
• ability score summary
• character sheets

I also printed original reference sheets for myself:

Player sheets were well used during the game, and everyone was able to quickly make several characters. I did not used Judge facing reference sheets, since I apparently remember more rules than I was aware of.

For The Caverns of Thracia I (1) prerolled four encounters for first two levels, (2) prerolled % if someone is somewhere for ground and first level, and (3) wrote down 20 rumours on pieces of paper to hand out.

I also noted vertical connection on my maps. There was no need extensively prepare, since the party can't delve too deep in one three hour session anyway. I did reduce monster hit points, though, since they were obviously rolled with Supplement I and variable HD. So I reduced everything to uniform d6 HD.

That was it, an hour or so of prep.

Final words

The session was enjoyable, and players did great for their first foray into Thracia. Great future awaits Lindon, no doubts about that.

#Wilderlands #OneShot #SessionReport

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Hagar the Hewer	Dwarf level 4	Imagine Conan as dwarf.
Ambros	Cleric level 5	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.
Riker	Magic-User level 2	A magic-user seeking glory or death.
Araggouk	Dwarf level 1	A skinny dwarf with patches of hair lost from stress.

Longrass 12th, Waterday

“They look like they've been murdered by Magic Missile or similar...”

Three rotting corpses with blast-marks lied prostrate in the chamber ahead of the party. The one to the right laid on its back, arms as if to protect the face. Said face was missing as well as its palms. The one straight ahead was lying on its left side, facing the party. Left side of the head was blasted, and right side was torn open, exposing festering flesh and broken ribcage. The one to the left was on its belly, and had a gaping hole instead of an abdomen.

The adventurers did not fall for the obvious trap. Whatever they threw into the chamber was immediately blasted to pieces by rapidly flying glowing orbs. They would flash on impact, destroying whatever they hit. Ingenious combination of torch on a tenfoot pole and judicious use of Find Traps spell, the party had identified four floating silver spheres, one in each corner of the room.

Illustration by kickmaniac.

Shooting them yielded no result. The party reasoned there must be some sort of pattern one has to follow in order to cross the chamber safely. So they picked up Rorik's corpse—carried by the sole surviving hireling—and chucked it on a square in front of them. Rorik was blasted and reduce to half of what he used to be. Spheres rotated and retracted into the ceiling.

“I think they are recharging! We should just run!”

“No, let's take it slow, maybe this is another trick.”

With that they picked Rorik's remains and threw him forward once more. Nothing. The fighter serves in death as much as he did in life.

“Run!”

Darting through north-east doors led the party into another corridor maze. There they found foul and soiled dwarf named Araggouk. Unfortunate soul got lost in the dungeon more than a week ago. He holed up in one of the dead ends and was biding his time until the rescue party arrived.

Reinforced by the smelly dwarf, adventurers explored the winding corridors. One route took them to suspicious elevated platforms. Roughly forming the shape of three broad stairs, a stone chest was resting atop the final one. It was flanked by two stone heads some ten feet above the ground. Both were roughly reptilian shaped, with fanged mouth stretched agape.

Thorough investigation revealed no visible traps, or rather triggers. After all, it was obvious even to the least experienced in the party that this chest must be trapped. Some horrors will surely come out of the gargoyle heads!

Araggouk successfully convinced others to help him open the stone chest, for he was too weak to lift the stone lid all by himself. FoxGlove stepped forth selflessly.

Oh, how wonderful its contents was! Thousands of shiny gold and silver coins! And two fist sized jewels resting on top of the pile!

Alas, their wonder was cut short by two snakes the fell down their necks from above. By the time Riker had finished casting Sleep, FoxGlove was bitten twice. Araggouk's skin had proven too thick, or too nasty even for a snake.

Ambros ran to the thief, looking for ways to help. He knew damn well what needs to be done. He was woefully aware of his inability to cast miracles like Bishops of his order. FoxGlove went pale, and then collapsed into cleric's arms.

“The pulse is still there, but weak...”

Tiberias was upgraded from corpse-porter to almost-dead-porter. He approved of that and was happy to offload Rorik's mutilated corpse to Riker. Adventurers snatched the gems and continued seeking exit.

Avoiding traps, they reached a large rectangular chamber. In fact, it was so large it took them good time just to walk it. Dwarves marvelled at its geometrically perfect lines. Moving on, the adventurers correctly identified and avoided two more traps, lifted a portcullis and reached stairs leading up.

“I don't believe it...” Darius mouthed, dejected.

Indeed, the party spirit was so low that they even debated if they'd take the stairs leading up or continue looking elsewhere.

Courage prevailed and they went up. And up. And up. Finally they ran into a t-shaped junction. To their right were closed stone doors and portcullis to the left. Behind the doors was an empty chamber with nothing but large mask carved in the east wall. Its smiling mouth was wide open, presenting an inviting darkness.

The invitation was not accepted by any of the adventurers.

Raising portcullis led them into a square chamber with doors in the south-west corner. That in turn led into a wide chamber with new doors to interact with. Opening north doors led into a hexagonal chamber with low stone column in the center. On it stood a stone vessel with an opening on top.

Ambros, desperate to save the thief, took the vessel and brought it to FoxGlove's lips.

“No, stop!”

Hagar prevented a possible tragedy, for the liquid seemed like mercury and not some antidote or similar helpful concoction.

Darius and Ambros studied the vessel, liquid, and pillar. It is possible that this is a divine mercury used in barbarian rituals to summon a god. The diviner would be granted a single simple question, that deity would answer with a word or phrase if they felt generous, or simple yes or no if they felt neutral. And better run for your life it hey were in ill mood.

Feeling tiredness setting in their muscles and bones, the party retreated into an adjoining chamber. Three strong men were needed to lift the portcullis; Riker placed a glass vial so it shatters in case someone or something lifts it while the party rests.

Longrass 13th, Earthday

Relatively well rested, the party returned to the hexagonal chamber. The room had three egresses: stone doors to the south, portcullis to the west, and framed stone slab to the north. The last one was interesting because it looked like regular stone doors from afar, but once up close it was nothing but a stone slab framed as doors.

With thorough investigation, the dwarves surmised the slab ought to be pushed. Doing so revealed two rectangular openings on the sides; one to the left and one to the right. Hagar remembered similar mechanism elsewhere in this dungeon. Last time they opened it by placing a palm in each of the openings. So they did the same this time. And it worked!

The chamber was stained yellow; filthy yellow. Sticky gas rolled around it; driving the adventurers to tears. Four disgusting abominations stood in the center of the chamber. They had fat, rotund bodies, and comically long, spindly arms and legs. Their head were nothing but folds of fat with slobbering jaws.

Whatever these creatures were, the party had surprised them. Tired and suffering sofuckitis, the adventurers charged the monsters head on. Yellow demons responded by beating on their fat bellies, causing an unpleasant cacophony and releasing yellow gas.

Hagar, Ambros, and Araggouk cut into two of them, slashing and smashing. Monsters oozed yellow pus. They cried and banged their bellies, and created so much fog that one couldn't see further than their own nose.

And then the noise stopped.

Blinded and nauseous, the party braced themselves for whatever is about to come next.

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Hagar the Hewer	Dwarf level 4	Imagine Conan as dwarf.
Ambros	Cleric level 5	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.
Riker	Magic-User level 2	A magic-user seeking glory or death.

Longrass 11th, Airday

Following a day-long deliberation on what to do that will take less than ten days in total, the party had decided to revisit a ruined tower some ten miles south-west of Hara.

The one where they recovered valuable silver orbs from.

The one where they lost on full party.

Spending a full watch scouting the surroundings for any changes, the adventurers determined nothing much changed. And so they descended down.

Hagar took the lead since he had been here before. They went through the secret passageway under the stairs, then left in the pendulum room, and then through north-west doors. From there they went forth, left, and then right.

“Locked. Can't find the mechanism!”

FoxGlove played with stone doors preventing their further progress. It had three holes, each in different shape: a five-point star, a six-point star, and an equilateral triangle.

They backtracked and moved into an unexplored corridor, then right turn, then more than hundred feet forward, left turn, and then through stone doors into a mostly empty chamber. A set of rusted bear traps were piled in one corner. Some were open, some were closed.

Finding nothing of value they proceeded through south doors, and down another long corridor. Alas, the moment they turned into the corridor a sliding stone slab prevented their return.

“I don't understand this dungeon. Is this to prevent something from coming out? Or us from retreating?” one of the adventurers wondered.

“Step aside, I'll smash it.” Hagar stepped forth with a sledgehammer.

An hour later and all he had to show was a fingernail-sized chip.

“I guess we head down the corridor then!”

Another hundred or so feet, a left turn, and stone doors, and the party entered another chamber. This one was peculiar since it had a long stone bench running along north, west, and south wall. The bench was low, and comfortable for dwarf to sit on. It had no legs and underneath was nothing but empty clearance. It felt pleasant to the bum.

South-east doors led into a large circular chamber with a swirling pattern carved into the floor. Grooves were obvious even to non-dwarves.

“Uh-huh, this is a trap.”

FoxGlove went in by himself, tied with a rope, and carefully explored everything. Alas, nothing much. Unwilling to risk finding out what the trap might be, the party backtracked into trapped corridor and spent significant time investigating every portion of wall. Alas, nothing.

Once the full party entered the round chamber the ground shook and spiral fell down, turning the floor into a downward slide. Ready for this, the party tumbled in a relatively controlled manner.

Lighting up extinguished torches, the party scanned the chamber they fell into. It was a similar circular chamber like the one they were moments ago. Stone doors were to south, and open archway to north. They chose the latter direction.

Navigating the maze-like corridors led them to portcullis with loud snoring, a direction which was immediately abandoned it. Moving opposite, down the corridor led to two dead ends.

The north one had a skeleton pinned to the wall. What they though to be javelins turned out to be long iron quills.

FoxGlove plundered the skeletons sack for some gems, and coins.

Peeking into a chamber filled with skeletons was sufficient to shut the doors and abandon that route as well. Backtracking the maze and following northern route led the party to stone doors flanked with holes, another obvious trap.

Adventurers triggered the trap with tenfoot pole, forcing five spears to launch out of the wall. Then they used the grappling hook with rope to bend each one of them.

Following that Hagar and Rorik forced the doors open. Alas, Rorik failed to synchronise with the beefy dwarf, and went straight through open doors. He stepped on the trap on the other side of the door, and triggered it.

He evaded two spears, deflected one, and got cut by two.

Illustration by kickmaniac.

The chamber had several human-sized skeletons laying on the ground, all facing down. Many had broken bones. The floor was full of small holes.

“Rorik! Rorik! We'll get to you!”

The fighter leaned back, making sure he doesn't step further into the chamber. Five iron spears just behind his back prevented his exit.

“Come on! Pull!”

Bending each spear took around ten minutes.

They could see Rorik sit down.

“Pull! Pull! We are coming for you! Hold in there!”

Rorik could feel his blood burn.

Rorik could feel his flesh ache.

Rorik could feel his heart racing.

Until Rorik could feel no more.

Darius closed the warrior's eyes.

And then two freshly recruited men-at-arms were turned into corpse porters.

Backtracking once more, the part retreated into the round chamber. There they camped and rested as long as it took six torches to burn.

Longrass 12th, Waterday

The adventurers now explored eastern set of corridors. Bunch of dead ends, one with gas trap that left Darius and Riker injured, and one hireling dead. That one was left behind.

“How about we check the south doors?”

This led them into a five hundred feet long winding corridor. They passed one dead end with robed corpse gripping a staff. Naturally they took the staff. The corridor terminated with an archway opening up in a wide chamber.

Three corpses with blast marked lied prostrated on the floor. These ones actually had some flesh on them, unlike ancient skeletons they had found so far.

“Careful there...”

Will the party manage to escape this time?

Or will they suffer the same fate as the party that went missing?

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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.
Bairstowbury the Chaotic	Halfling level 1	Remarkably muscular for a halfling.
Centuria	Elf level 1	An academic elf fond of teasing those of lower status.

Meadowlark 16th, Airday

“Get me out of this mess!”

The party had just slain a dozen spider-hen-pigeon-cat mutants. Two of the adventurers get tangled up in the webs, but without any opposition, they were soon out. Tarkus, Beorg, and Happy stuffed three monster corpses in a sack and when to the surface to rest and wait for others to come out. Bairstowbury and Centuria, the new recruit, switched with them and joined the party in the dungeon.

Illustration by IdleDoodler.

“Let's head up north to ensure nothing comes from behind. Also, there might be a loop leading to the lair of the spider-folk.”

Hundred feet long corridor was flanked by several empty rooms. One was completely barren, one had tattered remains of glowing rope, and one had a weathered, cracked, and faded fresco of skull biting a stone in the shape of infinity symbol.

There were also two unicorn statues, each in its respective alcove. First they encountered had broken off horn and front left leg. Second was intact, and if FoxGlove was correct, its horn looked like it could be rotated. A human male corpse was balled up in cowering position, sitting behind the second statue. The man looked youthful, even in his death. Ignoring the bright red cracked lips, taut, dehydrated look, and rigor mortis, that is.

With the help of divine magic, Darius discovered that the ceiling of the alcove is trapped. The party swiftly backed out, and then backtracked to the chamber with blue mist. From there they followed the long corridor east, taking two right and one left turn. They passed three doors, all emanating sickly green light. Two of them were brighter than the rest.

Adventurers arranged themselves in front of the first bright doors. Bairstowbury stepped forth, as the strongest of the six, and pulled on the doors. The party was almost blinded by the light—whole chamber was full of glowing webs. There was sufficient space alongside the floor, but humans would have to crawl.

Human corpse was suspended from the ceiling, it's huge, bloated belly sagging downwards. It's face was taut, as if something or someone had pulled it overs its cheekbones. It was a frozen image of excruciating pain. Man's teeth were crooked and his hair was thin. Glowing webs had melted the flesh away and were tightly wrapped around the exposed bones.

Something moved in the darkness.

Bairstowbury slammed the doors shut.

Something forced the doors open.

Illustration by IdleDoodler.

A large, spider-like creature was hanging upside down from the web. It had six spider appendages, as well as a pair of deformed human legs and arms hanging from its thorax. It's head was a misshapen atrocity of human face drawn over insectoid shape.

Ensuing scuffle was brief and violent. The monster bit FoxGlove, injecting him with vicious wasting venom. Adventurers discovered that creature was partly incorporeal, as their weapons passed right through its body. Rorik was able to strike it though, using a blade with skull in the pommel, which they recovered earlier in this dungeon. Ambros, in moment of desperation—or inspiration—called upon his deity to banish the monster.

It worked! to surprise of everyone involve.

“Very interesting.” Darius muttered, stroking his chin.

Mutant spider crawled up the wall, on the ceiling, and fled. But not before the party cut off three of its limbs and caused significant damage to it. Bairstowbury quickly stowed the appendages in his sack.

Illustration by IdleDoodler.

“Remember how they said these monsters procreate by inseminating corpses? Maybe we should hack that one up?”

Without volunteer to enter the chamber, the party decided to resort to true and tested method of burning everything. They oiled the bloated corpse and then set it on fire. Flesh caught fire, but webs remained intact.

Rorik observed, sword pulled out, ready to hack down any horror that might emerge.

The corpse burst open, spilling forth black ichor. A black mass with thin, long appendages fell to the ground, twitching and thrashing about chaotically. It burned away and melted into an oily slick, seeping into the ground through the cracks in the flagstone.

As this was happening, all but Darius, heard a loud shrill. So loud and so protracted that it felt like someone had driven a knife straight into their brain. The pain was such that thinking and acting was nearly impossible; even mere orientation and moving in the desired direction took significant effort.

Darius the Piper went to considerable lengths to ensure his colleagues exit the dungeon safely. He had to herd them like sheep, instruct them like little kids, and, eventually, just lead them by the rope. But he got them out intact.

Illustration by IdleDoodler.

“Let's go to Hara and rest there. That's where the home is.”

Longrass 1st, Airday

“Your sick friends must drink clean water and eat nothing but fresh fruits and vegetables. Strict bed rest is in order. No adventuring nor lollygagging about town.”

Such was the advice given the Hagar by the priest at the Temple of Poseidon. FoxGlove was still alive, but barely looking like it since the bite.

Rorik, Darius, Bairstowbury, and Centuria collected the monster remains and set off to Ironburg via river barge. They wanted to share all the new information with Old Crus.

Hagar and others remained in Hara. Dwarven hero was considered to be the de facto leader of this adventuring party—or at least that's how people of Hara had seen him.

Longrass 5th, Spiritday

Hagar finally managed to commission master sculptor Dragespius of Onhir. They agreed on 25 feet tall marble statue, to be made in Ahyf, facing the sea. Details to be arranged, as well as payment of 3 125 gold pieces.

Rorik, Darius, Bairstowbury, and Centuria had returned from their meeting with Crus.

They learned that spider-hen chimeras are called webbirds, and are basically bred for food by the creatures of the underdark. They were also frustrated at the other information shared by him, considering it to be vapid academic bloviation of little practical application.

Rorik shared with him hand drawn map of the explored area. In fact, Rorik was the only one of the adventurers that Crus had shown any remote sign of affection for.

Illustration by kickmaniac.

“One day, one day, you will be a great adventurer. Just you keep listening to me. As you grow in power I will reveal new things to you. Trust me, trust me. One day! But not today!”

Full party was now reunited in Hara.

Fresh mercenaries begun trickling in. The word must have spread.

After all, war breeds war.

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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?

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Comments

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.
Bob the Dwarf	Dwarf level 3	Midget with big beard in search of an adventure.
Happy	Halfling level 3	Short, very happy looking halfling. Hair covers his eyes and he is nothing but smiles.

Meadowlark 6th, Airday

An ugly, child-sized creature hung still in the north-east corner. It was up high, by the ceiling, leaning against the wall with its feet and a pair of arms. Another pair of arms was covering its hideous face. Arms had four joints.

Rorik stood still, observing the creature. He subtly signalled to other adventures something is amiss. Hideous child ignored FoxGlove's communication attempts. It slowly crawled sideways along the wall until it stopped just above the dragon door.

Then it suddenly leaned forward, revealing to full extent its atrocious facial features, and jerked out coats stuffed in dragon's nostrils. Rorik shot it dead before the first puffs of blue haze dropped to the ground.

The thief climbed up the side of the dragon door and inspected the monster up close. Face was relatively human. Its eyes were elongated and almond-like. Two large mandibles protruded out of its mouth. Its body was covered in armour made of some webbed and sticky material.

FoxGlove gingerly pulled out a shortsword that hung by the creature's hip. It too was sticky and made from webbed material. Then he stuffed the cloaks back into the dragon's nostrils.

Forcing the north-east doors open led the party into a corridor blocked by dense, thick strands of pearl-gray webbing. After careful deliberation, FoxGlove and Rorik began cutting through the web. They were slow and methodical, taking care not to get entangled or stuck. Up close they observed that the webs were coated in some oily substance.

Cutting through the rope was promptly rewarded by receiving two javelins to the face. Rorik shielded himself and then charged forth to face the daring assailants. He crashed against two four feet tall monsters, very similar but a bit sturdier than the one he killed earlier. Both were had dark, lanky black hair, four arms, and were dressed in webbed armours. Each held a sword, a shield, and a javelin, with fourth hand free.

Small monsters barely stood a chance against mighty Rorik and pious Ambros. Rest of the party splintered north, down the corridor with several doors. They were, of course, promptly flanked from both sides.

Bob received several javelins to his face and body, imitating a hedgehog. A number of four-armed spiderfolk spilt out of the west doors, filling the corridor. Alas, the adventurers were still mightier and slew them in droves.

Darius cast Light on the figure he deemed to be the leader. He came to such conclusion after seeing one of the four-armed creatures directing others. The monster screamed and wailed. Then it threw itself backwards and begun crawling up the wall.

“Murderers!” it cried in broken Common.

“Butchers!” it protested in anguish.

“Killers!” it spat in disgust.

“Huh?” adventurers wondered and chased the fleeing creatures.

With all doors shut, they now focused on the blinded one. It was soon brought back down to the ground and beaten mercilessly.

“I yield! What do you want?!” it cried, dropping its sword and shield.

“Why did you call us killers?!” Ambros demanded.

Such inquiry utterly confused the monster.

“You burst in our lair and start killing us! Killers!”

“Yeah, just kill him.” could be heard in the background.

Unhappy with the creature's answer, the blade was raised for coup de grace.

“Enough!” in well spoken Common could be heard from darkness up north.

“You came into my home, slew my children, maimed my champion, and are caused senseless destruction! Speak! What is it you want!”

Similar, but slightly larger and much better dressed, four-armed creature hung by the darkness at the edge of the adventurers' torchlight.

Soon they learned this is a lair of spiderfolk driven from below by “glowing hunters.” They've been slowly exterminated, and have now holed up here. Since they've been denied returned to the netherlands, they have been forced to come to the surface and hunt for food—cattle, goats, birds...

“We would like to help. How can we find these glowing hunters?”

“They will find you! All you need to do is step out of the mist through south doors. Beware the glowing chambers! Do not go into them! You must draw them out, else you will be doomed! And remember, remember this well! Should any one of you fall to the Glowing Hunter, then make sure to chop up the body without any further delay!”

Not much else of use was learned, and party retreated out of the spiderfolk's lair without further violence.

Happy promptly fell into previously discovered pit trap that has reset itself. Then he was drawn out and he almost fell into thus undiscovered pit trap.

Without ideas on how to reach doors that have a ten feet wide and long pit trap, the party decided to focus on bloated doors on the west side. There they found an abandoned guard room with attached weapon storage. Ransacking both yielded 13 gold pieces, 36 copper pieces, six yellowed, ivory charms carved to resemble grinning skulls, three long-swords, five daggers, one spear, and one two-handed sword. Each weapon bears a carved skull in its pommel or shaft.

Then they returned to the dragon door and played a bit with it. Having agitated it enough, the dragon sneezed with such great force that both cloaks exploded out of the nostrils, followed by thick, voluminous stream of green gas. Everyone who inhaled heaves and coughed, spitting a bit of blood.

And thus the party decided to retreat for the day and report their findings to Tagoler at the Castle of the Wode. They carried Happy to prevent him from falling in any new and old pit traps.

Meadowlark 9th, Fireday

“This is all news to me! Worrying news, at that! Listen, you offered help before. Special help, that is. Now, what would be really helpful is if you could go back and find my guys. It's been a while and no one here expects you to find them alive. But if you could recover their corpses then we would both have an idea where and why they perished, and we would give them a chance to rest closer to their families.”

“They were five men. Cahaidh, rotund and with long brown hair; Eamhur, with lop-eared ears; Eithrael, with long arms and nails; Domnel, with crooked teeth and thinning hair; and Lochey who always looked like a kid despite being in his forties. All had standard equipment consisting of handaxe, dagger, spear, leather armour, shield, and backpack with supplies.”

“These weapons you recovered look impressive! Well balanced! I wish I had such good weapons to equip my people with... Old Crus at Ironburg, just north-west of here, would surely know more about their provenance. Just tell him I sent you. That should grant you an audience with him.”

What will the party do next?

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Comments

Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Hagar the Hewer	Dwarf level 4	Imagine Conan as dwarf.
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.
Vyrkainen	Elf level 1	Has stunning long, flowing black hair which attracts many fair maidens who exploit his generosity and leave him destitute.

Meadowlark 2nd, Waterday

“What shall we do next?”

Adventurers wondered. Hagar has now been resting for a little over a week. Although alive, he was slowly recovering after his last bout with death. In addition, yesterday's encounters did not help his recovery whatsoever.

First, they encountered Abek Namelin for the second time. The man brought new gifts: exotic breads, cream for Bob's mangled face and scalp, and rejuvenating concoctions for Hagar.

Youngest son of Namelin tried his best to convince the adventurers that his family has been ruthlessly slandered, and that Imrael is behind all that is ill in Hara.

“Who do you think ordered no less than four separate assassination contracts on your head, master dwarf?!”

“These are strong accusations! Do you have any proof?”

“And what proof did they present to you that we are evil!”

Back and forth they went, brining the young man to tears of frustration. He kept repeating that Klekless Racoba is the key to this mystery. Why else would Imrael's want him dead? He offered five thousand, yes!, five thousand platinum pieces to adventurers if they could capture Klekless alive and bring him back for questioning.

But adventurers were steadfast. They rejected Abek's gifts and his offer of friendship. Young man left in tears, but he left the gift behind.

Vyrkainen devoured breads the moment Abek left.

“Oh, you guys don't know what you are missing out on! Tasty!”

“What if the cream and potions are cursed?”

“Even worse, what if they work and then we are in debt to Namelin?”

Second, worse encounter, was with Mavis the Magnificent, High Priestess of Poseidon. Wishing to check on Abek's claim, they pestered acolytes at the Temple for audience with High Priestess.

Initially they were rebuffed, but Vyrkainen's shenanigans eventually granted them a meeting at the end of the day. Hagar wanted to know who the Temple is aligned with.

“Everybody pays their respects to the Poseidon.”

Few more similar questions received similar answers. Then Hagar tried to be more precise.

“High Priestess, who should we work with? Imrael? Or Namelin?”

“What do I care who you work with!” Mavis exploded in a fit of rage. Usually calm and composed, she jumped up like a force of nature, shaking the whole temple. “You should be worrying about your divine debt instead of wasting my time!” Water in the basins and pools swirled and roared, mimicking her temper. “Get out!”

Acolytes ushered them all out, despite Vyrkainen's protests.

“I must remain home and rest.” Hagar shared, more for himself than others.

“Listen. If we are siding with Imrael then let's focus on things that he asked for. There was this spider farm, right? He asked us to look for the lair of creatures that assaulted it. We could also visit Castle on the Wode on our way there and try to meet with Tagoler, whom we plans to back as new Castellan.”

“Sounds good.”

But that was yesterday, and now is today.

“Help? Of course I could use some help!”

Middle-aged man with short hair and trimmed beard roared, slamming a stack of parchments on broad wooden desk.

“There has been a dearth of capable men! Look at the map, come, look at it! You could take any of these routes and patrol them! What, not fancy enough for you?”

Tagoler was still sweaty and grimy, having returned from a patrol himself. His broad chest heaved with laughter, perhaps a nervous one, as he motioned over the area he has to keep safe with a handful of men residing at the Castle of the Wode.

To be fair, calling this simple keep with one tower a castle was an overstatement. But it served its purpose.

“Well if that is too mundane for you special folk, then I have some special problems you could help me with! Months ago, I lost a patrol on the hills north of here. Looked for them myself but no luck. Since I couldn't spare any men, we had to drop our search.

“Locals tell tall tales of vampires, demons, and what not. Truth to be told I think they were done in by a wild beast, potentially and owlbear or cave bear. If you can track the patrol—alive or dead—and kill whatever waylaid them, that'd be greatly appreciated. It'd also allow me to reinstate a new patrol over the hills.

“Another pesky problem is the Pirate Queen that's been raiding ships on their way out of the bay and into the open sea. Hear lair should supposedly be somewhere between Ketche and Ahyf. That's a lot of coast to search! I followed several leads, but all led nowhere!

“So, there it is. Anything worthy of your help?”

Adventurers conversed for a moment. Then they decided to head to the spider farm, and then to the Midnight Goddess Hills, where they would both search for the lair of black creatures, as well as the missing patrol.

Vyrkainen had an extra objective on his mind as well. He desired to meet the nude goddess that roams the hills when sister moons, Howla and Vannis, are both full.

Meadowlark 6th, Airday, Noon

“Up ahead!”

Rorik spotted a circle of white stone pillars atop the Midnight Goddess Hill summit. That by itself was nothing extraordinary. No, what was interesting were several toppled dolmens revealing a dark black cavity.

Exploring the environs revealed several trails of broken grass leading to—or was it from?—the pit. Strong smell of earth, moisture and rot emanated from the hole. Sun shone in just enough to illuminate rounded steps leading further down.

Illustration by kickmaniac.

Vyrkainen volunteered to go first, for he as an elf could see in the dark. The adventurers did not want to risk not being able to surprise someone while carrying torches. They tied two hundred feet of rope around the elf, and down the went.

The steps went down and down, turning and turning. It was impossible to guess the depth, even using the rope to measure distance for it got tangled around the central column. Either way, after some time, Vyrkainen arrived at narrow landing which opened up into a straight corridor.

Up ahead he could see something hazy; and he could smell a curious mixture of strange spices, smoke, and dank copper. Thus, with his reconnaissance completed, he went back up and relayed this new information.

The party summed up their courage and descended down, together. A torch was lit. Now with light one could see all the small steps, plethora of cobwebs and stone dust.

“Hmmm...”

They couldn't see far down the corridor. A blue, impenetrable haze filled it. Foxglove, the thief, went first. Seeing noting suspicious he edged to the mist. It was corporeal. Very real. Stabbing it left the instruments covered in small wet beads that evaporated in seconds.

Once in the mist, the thief could see some five feet ahead.

“Secure me!”

Party set Vyrkainen loose, and used fifty feet of rope to secure Foxglove. Two of them held the rope, attentive to any sign of distress, as the thief explored misty chamber.

Clang.

Stepping left resulted with the thief tumbling straight into a dark pit. Due to short distance, the party wasn't able to tense the rope in time, and Foxglove found himself a bit roughed up, but otherwise fine.

“Pull me up!”

Clang.

Stepping right led to another pit trap, but this time the thief jumped back in time.

“Hmmm, maybe we should leave?” contemplated an adventurer best left unnamed. Surely these brave folk wouldn't be defeated by some pathetic pit traps in the first room of a dungeon!

Surely not!

Foxglove kept tapping through the mist, exploring. Others followed behind him, retracing safe ground he had covered.

And then thief walked straight into dragon's gaping maw.

Luckily for him, the dragon was merely a stone replica!

Dragon's open mouth framed stone doors with a latch to the side. Blue mist tardily rolled out of its nostrils.

“Hey... I have two cloaks... let's use them to jam 'em!”

That indeed worked, and chamber begun to slowly clear.

Rorik spotted bloated, wooden doors just to his left. The little hairs on the back of his neck warned him of danger. He looked around, and then he looked up.

At the edge of light, high in the north-east corner, a child-size creature stuck to the wall. Its feet were flush against the wall, and so were its palms. Other two hands covered its monstrous face—a face only a mother could love.

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Hagar the Hewer	Dwarf level 4	Imagine Conan as dwarf.
Ambros	Cleric level 4	Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Tarkus the Promising	Cleric level 3	Follower of Bachontoi, God of Red Wisdom.
Beorg the Gravedigger	Fighter level 3	Inspired to adventure after burying several adventurers.

Sweetrain 14th, Fireday, Late Evening

“Good evening, Master Dwarf.” Zenon Coke, Headmaster of the Assassins' Guild, hailed Hagar and his friends.

“Well met.” the Dwarf replied politely. “What are you doing in our house?”

Indeed, the adventurers were surprised to find Zenon sitting in their living quarters. How and when did he enter, and how haven't they spotted him earlier? That remains to be answered another day.

“Worry not Hagar, I'm not here to deliver bad news in person. Rather, I'm here to ask for assistance with a small issue. Something, I believe, you and your friends could help with.”

“We are listening!”

“Over the past few weeks several unlicensed assassinations have been conducted. Targets were of no import, but we cannot allow anyone to just go around and murder people for money. Only we can do that, you see.”

“And how can we help?”

“Murders were done poorly, but that is beyond the point. We have tracked down the perpetrators. They have been hiding right in front of us! There is a secret trapdoor on the south side of the bridge connecting South and North Hara. It is located just underneath the bridge, and overhangs the river bank.”

“Now, given your reputation, I believe you could help with the following. I want to make an example out of them. I want them to die messy deaths. I want their corpses to be found by the city guard.”

“Why don't you dispose of them yourself?”

“Power. Example. Message. Yes, we could do so easily. But sending the most powerful adventuring party against them sends a clear message to everyone even dreaming about doing something so stupid like conducting unlicensed assassinations!”

“What is in it for us?”

“Assassins' Guild owning you favour surely is worth something?”

Negotiations lasted well over an hour, both between the adventurers—if they should even accept the offer, is this some sort of trap—and with Zenon—money, favours, immunities.

“I'm happy for you to discuss and verify the facts for yourself, but I need your answer now. I need this done tonight. As a sign of goodwill, we will disarm the trapdoor and leave a silk rope hanging from it. It will be strong enough to carry even the heaviest warrior amongst you.”

Eventually adventurers agreed to do this in exchange for one month of immunity against assassination contracts for the whole adventuring company.

“Be by the bridge in the time it takes one lantern to expire. We will ensure that there is no one there. Easiest way to descend is by following the riverbank starting at the east side and moving westwards. Remember. Example! Oh, and if you happen to find any scrolls with names, please bring it to me.”

Sweetrain 15th, Spiritday, First Night Watch

As promised, there was no one around or on the bridge. No guards, no random drunks, no “night owls” going for a walk. The party descended to the river bank, and found the hanging rope. Trapdoor was hidden really well—if it weren't for the hanging rope it'd be indistinguishable from the bridge stonework.

Hagar pulled on it, and trapdoor swung open. He climbed up and peeked in. It was a dark, narrow, and quite low crawlspace. He pulled up, and begun crawling down. Others followed. Some sixty feet later the tunnel opened up in a hewn corridor five feet wide and eight feet tall.

Tarkus held the lantern, partially covering it to avoid emitting too much light. In fact, there was a thin ray of light coming from underneath the wooden doors up ahead. Bursting in, the party jumped two figures sitting at wide wooden table.

Figures were dressed in simple grayish garbs, black leather armour, and wore partial skull-masks—think just the facial portion of skull. One was instantly slain by the adventurers, while the other one ran to the weapon rack in the south-west corner of the room. Person grabbed the spear, and then ran for the other doors on the east side of the room. Alas, it was cut off the by the adventurers, and was summarily cut down.

Searching the corpses revealed them to be human, albeit of unfamiliar look. Possibly from far away? Beorg took one of the skull-mask and put it on. He liked it as a fashion statement.

The doors where the slain skull-man opened up to a staircase. The stairs turned and turned as they descended. Hagar took the lead.

“Stop.”

The dwarf noticed something was amiss after the third turn. Steps there were flanked by scratch marks on the wall. A sure sign of sliding trap. Adventurers tied the rope around his waist, and Hagar proceeded on.

Indeed, halfway down the stairs dropped into a slide, sending Hagar into the chamber up ahead. He landed with control, and was immediately assaulted by two skull-faced men.

Hagar held his ground, and wounded one of his assailants. Once other adventurers joined him, the skull-men retreated through the door on the south side. Both could be heard yelling in unfamiliar language.

“Follow them!”

Rushing after them, they could see the men splitting. One turned east, while the other continued running south. Hagar followed the latter, while other three adventurers followed the former.

Ambros, Beorg, and Tarkus ran east, seeing the fleeing figure slamming doors in their face. They forced their way in, but were checked by the fleeing figure. Three bunk beds with four confused men indicated that these was a dorm of sorts.

The man yelled at the sleeping beauties to join the fray. Each grabbed the first weapon they could find, and joined in. Ambros hurt the roaring figure, forcing it to retreat few steps back. This created just enough space for the remaining adventurers to get into the chamber.

Wounded skull-man pulled himself on top of the bunk-bed by the east wall. There he laid on his belly and used crossbow to rain hell from above on the adventurers. He missed twice. Then he hit Beorg. The gravedigger felt something entering his bloodstream. But then he tensed really hard and all was good.

Tarkus crushed one of the charging men. Ambros killed two. Beorg cut down the fourth. Then all three rushed the bed and stabbed the prostrated figure to death.

“You know, I feel much better about this assignment after seeing these folks. No one Lawful would be carrying real human skulls!” Tarkus proclaimed. The trio proceeded to ransack the chamber.

Unbeknownst to them, Hagar was facing off a difficult foe.

The dwarf had chased south but stopped once the figure disappeared after yet another turn. He remained there to watch guard. But then a figure clad in black chainmail, with steel-gray robe adorned with skull face, wielding a short sword and mean looking dagger, came out of darkness and walked up. It also wore a skull-mask.

Dwarf and skull-man closed in, trading blows. Initially Hagar held the upper hand, striking the figure twice. But then the skull-man slashed at the Dwarf with his short sword. Hagar recoiled and the man used the opening to drive in the dagger. Hagar felt the stab. More worryingly, he felt muscles around the wound stiffen and contract.

Skull-man, bleeding and staggering, retreated backwards, facing Hagar. The dwarf charged after without hesitation, slaying the man in the process. With every passing moment he felt more and more of his muscles stiffen up.

Hagar slowly walked back to the junction where the party had split. There he saw his colleagues plundering the corpses and ransacking the footlockers.

“I've been badly injured. I will head out, but you should continue and finish what we started! There is at least one more left!”

⁂

Hagar dragged himself out, becoming slower and slower with every step. He barely rappelled down the rope.

“I know you are out here! Assassins! I've been poisoned and need your help!” he moaned into the dark of the night.

No response.

The dwarf dragged himself up the river bank and onto the bridge. Then he crossed it to the North, heading to the temple of Poseidon. He kept on calling for help from Assassins' Guild.

⁂

The trio bid luck to the Dwarf and then pressed on further south. Eventually they broke into a chamber overlooking a cave to southeast. A bronze statue of slender woman with a magpie's head turned east sat in the alcove to the north. A sound of running water could be heard coming from the cavern.

Investigating the statue revealed nothing of interest. On the other hand, the adventurers found a rope ladder hanging from the ledge. One by one, they slowly descended into the cave.

Ambros motioned to the others to look left.

There was a skull-masked man standing still, holding a sword, leaning against the cave pillar. He was barely visible, but noticeable none the less.

“Surrender and we will spare you!” adventurers offered.

No answer.

The party shrugged and surrounded the man. He yelled something incomprehensible, and then stabbed himself straight through the heart.

“These are no competing assassins!” Tarkus yelled. “This is a death cult!”

Surveying the cave revealed more evidence supporting the cleric's thesis. Prime candidates were a stone stained with dried blood—a sacrificial altar perhaps—and another, smaller stone, adorned with black cloth with skull motif on both sides. To add, a human skull and dagger made of human bone rested on it.

The trio took the ceremonial dagger, cut off heads of three skull-masked men, and ransacked some crates and barrels on their way out.

Once outside, they left a trail of heads leading from the bridge landing to the rope hanging from the trapdoor. Then they proceeded to report to the Assassin's Guild.

Sweetrain 15th, Spiritday, Sunrise

“Well, that was a bit crude.” Zenon commented. “But you got the job done. Oh, I have almost forgotten! Our deal has changed. None of you will received the agreed upon immunity. We found Hagar, stiff as a rock, just in front of the Poseidon's temple. He was poisoned, so we took him and administered an extremely potent antidote. He will recover in due time. We also captured three men that tried to rob him. Do with them as you please.”

Happy that Hagar was alive, the party did not argue too much against changed terms. They shared everything they've seen in the skull-men's hideout. They also gave Zenon a scroll they had recovered from the heavily armoured cultist.

Finally, they let the three thieves go, but warned them to bring any news straight to them. Then they helped still groggy Hagar to return back home.

How many times will this dwarf cheat death?

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Hagar the Hewer	Dwarf level 4	Imagine Conan as dwarf.
Ambros	Cleric level 4	Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Tarkus the Promising	Cleric level 3	Follower of Bachontoi, God of Red Wisdom.
Beorg the Gravedigger	Fighter level 2	Inspired to adventure after burying several adventurers.
Bob the Dwarf	Dwarf level 3	Midget with big beard in search of an adventure.
Darius	Cleric level 3	Follower of Dacron, God of Craftsmen.
Rorik	Fighter level 3	A fighter.

Sweetrain 10th, Spiritday

“Pleasure dealing with you once more Master Dwarf.” Zenon was polite as always “I promise we will not accept any new contracts pertaining to you until summer.”

Hagar parted with one mithral bar; a minuscule price for his life. Then he spent several days with Bob planning the extraction of treasure from the crypt.

The plan was as follows: create a “wash-line” system using block and tackle on opposing ends and several hundred feet of rope. Fill fourteen backpacks with gold coins. Hang them on the line and pull them across the acid pool instead of using the bridge. Then carry it all out.

Forming a large party of seven adventurers—after all, somebody needs to carry all that treasure—they set out of Hara on morning of Sweetrain 10th.

Midway was their first stop. There Wershaw, the constable, chastised them for not keeping their word and delaying closing the crypt. He also conveyed Lord Kyle's deep disappointment in the party for not helping him as promised.

Adventurers hired Dubalan, the sweaty goatherd, to be their guide once more. They reached the crypt by nightfall, and opted to rest before the delve.

Sweetrain 11th, Airday

18.

18 hours of hard, hard work.

That's how long it took them to execute their plan.

Getting to the tomb was easy.

Setting up the pulley system was easy, but time consuming.

Illustration by kickmaniac.

Carrying 14 backpacks full of coin was slow.

Especially when you need to navigate a corridor full of swinging pendulums and scythes. While skeletons and burning blobs of flesh are trying to distract you.

But they made it out of the crypt, proudly carrying 5 600 gold pieces. They left behind around 11 000 coins, of which approximately one fifth was gold.

Exhausted from hard work, they once more rested at Dubalan's “secret spot” hidden between the bushes and rocks.

Sweetrain 12th, Waterday

Rested, but encumbered, the party headed back to Midway. What usually took just two watches now required double time. Having reached river Cedarwade by nightfall, the party decided to camp overnight and cross it in the early morning.

Sweetrain 13th, Earthday

“Get up!”

Beorg's yell was drowned out by tremendous noise create by a dozen of blood-red skinned barbarians charging the camp.

Everyone quickly jumped out of their bedrolls and grabbed their weapon. Altanians quickly closed in on the party, unleashing a salvo of spears and handaxes as they did so.

Beorg checked the advance of several barbarians, but others successfully circumvented him and barged straight into the camp.

From there it was a violent, free-for-all skirmish. Barbarians laughed and jeered at the adventurers. In return, the adventurers hit hard. Whenever their blows connected, that is.

One of the clerics managed to stay out of melee for long enough to blind one of the attackers with Light spell. Bob and Hagar drew a lot of attention, both for being dwarves and for wielding unique looking weapons.

“First one to take dwarf scalp wins!” one of the barbarians roared.

Lo and behold, all but the blinded one disengaged and rushed to attack one of the dwarves. In the confusion, or rather, excitement, two barbarians were hacked down.

Hagar pushed off his would-be scalpers. Bob, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. First he was beaten. Then he was manhandled and forced to the ground. And then he felt burning sensation as winning Altanian cut across his forehead. Sharp pain followed, as the man jerked off his scalp by pulling hard on the hair.

The man ran off, showing his butt to the adventurers. Other barbarians laughed and insulted the party as they ran off into the sunrise.

“Bob, you good?”

“No.”

Clerical healing nursed the dwarf back to life. Faceless and scalpless, Bob was certainly taking on a rather ghoulish appearance.

“Bob asking the gods why his visage offends them” by Ryu-Ran.

“What about that guy?”

Blinded Altanian was still swinging madly. The party tied him up like a hog, and then dragged him with them.

Once at Midway, they hired a barge to take them to Hara. Much better than trudging along encumbered.

Entering through docks in northern Hara, the party registered their hard earned coins, paid the tax, and headed for their home.

Sweetrain 14th, Fireday

“We will kill you all! Burn the city to the ground! Rape you women! Feast on your children!” the Altanian kept yelling at his captors. Little useful information did he have. So they sold him at the market.

By now Hara has effectively been split in half. Southern portion was controlled by Namelin's thugs. They were patrolling in bands of four to six, always joined by at least one person displaying a compass rose icon—Namelin's family symbol—who seemed to be in charge. These bands never touched the party. In fact, the leader would always be polite, and make sure the adventurers have a free passage through the city, undisturbed.

Two areas in south Hara were devoid of Namelin's presence. One was Imrael's mansion, who deployed his own men around it. After all, he still is the wealthiest and most affluent merchant in Hara. Second was the keep overlooking the marketplace. Although there was no castellan, the few remaining soldiers decided to hole up there and maintain an illusion of control over the city.

Queen's island was closed off, with few rowboats going there and back.

Hagar, Bob, Rorik, and Tarkus accepted the invitation for lunch from Amulias Imrael, head of the family. There they were offered advice on dangers of flaunting their wealth. More importantly, Amulias wanted to know where they stand regarding the increasing tensions in Hara.

Hagar advocated for supporting the Queen, citing their previous help and good relations with Haermond II, the former castellan.

“New castellan will be appointed in the next few months. Namelin will nominate one of his sons, I'm sure of it. We will back Tagoler. He is a good man and has been doing stellar job at the Castle of the Wode. I'm afraid he will be assassinated on his way to Hara.”

“You would be perfect to protect him. First, you have clearly demonstrated your fighting prowess. No one dares touch you here. Second, you are foreigners, meaning there is less dirt on you someone can try to leverage.”

“While I admire your support for the queen, I must warn you that this might get ugly. Remember that crown you commissioned for some monster? Yes, you gave me a good explanation why, but surely you can see how that could easily get twisted and spinned?”

Adventurers discussed for a long time, reaching meek agreement on supporting the loyalists and protecting Tagoler.

“I shall let you know when he decides to set out for Hara. Expect that to be sometime within next two months, but definitely before the summer.”

On the way home, which is actually just across the Imrael's mansion, the quarter was greeted by a young man dressed in fine clothes. He was bronze skinned, had a wide grin, big eyes, and small, round nose. A basket full of goods was in his left arm.

“Well met fine adventurers! May I ask if you are Hagar, good dwarf?” the man motioned at Bob.

“No, this one here is Hagar.” the ugly dwarf pointed to another, less ugly, dwarf.

“Who are you and what do you want?” the muscled dwarf stepped forward and demanded sternly.

“I am Abek Namelin, and I am here to kindly request audience. We know you must be busy, and since you never replied to any of out letters and invitations, I decided to come here myself. You know how they say! If the mountain doesn't come to you, then you come to the mountain!”

Abek smiled and laughed and was in cheerful mood. Quite the opposite of the adventurers. Behind him were eight men, all dressed in tight leather armours, and armed with short swords and spears.

“We are very tired and would like to go home. Come some other time.” Hagar replied, unmoved by Abek's enthusiasm.

“Oh! Please, accept my deepest apologies for inconveniencing you! When would be a good time to come again? Please say so and I'll be there then!”

“This guy won't leave us alone, won't he.” adventurers whispered amongst themselves.

“And friends, silly me, I have almost forgotten! I bring you some gifts! The finest wine from Viridistan! Even the Green Emperor drinks it! Breads and biscuits made from the finest ingredients! And last but not least, a selection of exotic spices to spice up... any adventure you might have, if you know what I'm talking about!”

“Please, we are tired and would like to go home. We cannot accept your gift. You can come in two days.”

“But... Why? Why do you wound me so? What have I done wrong to you? This is a gift coming from our heart!” Abek stuttered, big tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Why would you turn away such generosity and kindness! Have you fallen for the slander of those envious of our success! No, you couldn't have, you are too wise for that!” Abek now spoke through tears, wiping them off with a piece of silk cloth.

“I shall respect your decision although it pains me greatly that you are refusing this gift. I will come at the time you say. And will bring something for the other dwarf! I hope you will accept my generosity then!”

And with those parting words Abek turned around, his cheeks puffy, red, and wet, and left the party. Adventurers exhaled and went home.

“We don't have much time. What do we do next?”

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Adventurers

Character	Class	Description
Hagar the Hewer	Dwarf level 4	Imagine Conan as dwarf.
Ambros	Cleric level 4	Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Tarkus the Promising	Cleric level 3	Follower of Bachontoi, God of Red Wisdom.
Beorg the Gravedigger	Fighter level 2	Inspired to adventure after burying several adventurers.
Bob the Dwarf	Dwarf level 2	Midget with big beard in search of an adventure.
Bairstowbury the Chaotic	Halfling level 1	Remarkably muscular for a halfling.

Sweetrain 1st, Airday

“Help me out, will you?”

Ambros donned ornate plate mail worn by the undead knights the party had vanquished moments ago. He lost his own armour in an acid vat not even an hour ago.

Bairstowbury the Chaotic finally showed up. He was apparently shadowing them the whole time, but choose to appear only when he deems so.

Six adventures opted to thoroughly search the cursed king's chamber before proceeding down the steps hiden underneath the rubble of the king's tomb.

This was no tunnel, nor hewn spiral staircase. No, this was a hole in the ground, bored either by great might or magic. The slope was nearly vertical. The steps were nothing but formed soil and stone. It was a narrow one as well.

The party had to proceed in a single rank; they could only fight with small, one-handed weapons. Hagar took the lead.

Down and down they went. Deep. A hundred feet or more, if the dwarves are to be trusted.

Another twist, but this time ending with an opening into thick darkness, barely penetrated by the adventurers' torchlight.

“Help... me...”

Barely understandable cry could be heard. At first they misunderstood the accent as foreign; but after listening closely to some time they realised it is in fact Ancient Common.

Inching forwards soon revealed the sad predicament of the tortured one.

Upon a hexagonal plinth was a figure wrapped in chains; pinned to the ground like a ball, with face and belly pointing downwards. The chains were thick and of unknown material; two were anchored to each side of the platform. Figure itself was incorporeal, barely visible under all the chains.

Illustration by IdleDoodler

“We are here to help! By the holy orders of Poseidon! Are you the wrongly accursed soul?” Hagar inquired.

But the figure only communicated with nonsense, cries, wails, sobs, and repetition of pleas for help.

Canvassing the cave revealed little. Chains were indeed real, and not an illusion. Upon closer inspection, it became transparent that all of them wrap around the figure, and then through its torso and down into the center of the platform.

Halfling made another discovery, something much more interesting than a king cursed to suffer for all eternity: nine chests of blackened wood. Five had a gilded lid, three silvered lid, and one jewelled lid. First was filled to the brim with gold pieces, second with silver pieces, and third with small gems.

By now three adventures have climbed the platform and were attempting to speak with the figure. Two failed, but Beorg succeeded.

“Destroy... chains... please...”

Bob tapped his warhammer on the first link of one chain. Hammerhead shattered.

“Magic... use... magic...”

Everyone stepped off the platform.

Bob took out two-handed Wolfhammer.

He swung.

The link exploded, and the chain retracted like an angry eel, making the figure scream as it pulled through it.

Bob repeated this three times.

As the chains were broken one by one, the figure slowly rose to kneeling position, then to crouching, then slouching, and then to finally standing.

Without chains obscuring its figure, the adventurers could see a gauzy figure of a naked man. His body was broken, his regal face tortured but relaxed, his eyes sunk but radiating.

The man looked at each adventurer, as if he was studying them. They could feel the warmth of the gaze.

“Thank you.”

The man vanished.

As the warmth slowly abandoned them, Beorg and Hagar felt a bit wiser from the whole experience.

The heavy chests contained a total of 7 500 gold pieces, 9 000 silver pieces, and 40 small gems.

The party discussed at great length how to get all this treasure out. There is an unreliable bridge over acid pool, there is a corridor with pendulums and scythes, and there is a crypt with hundreds of restless undead.

Having adventured for nearly sixteen hours straight, the adrenaline faded away, and exhaustion set in. What better place to rest at than cursed king's torture chamber? At least it has one entrance, they said.

Sweetrain 2nd, Waterday

“Oh no!”

In the morning the party had found all their standard rations spoiled. They also spent ten torches. After another round of discussions, they decided to take all the gems, and load all the gold coins they could in their backpacks.

Heavily encumbered they moved on. It took them half an hour to get back up in the tomb! Low on torches, they opted to pour all their coins in one broken sarcophagus, and vowed to return for it all.

They successfully navigated the maze.

Their rope was where they left it, so they used it to cross the bridge.

Illustration by IdleDoodler

When they opened the stone doors leading into the long trapped corridor a mass of burning flesh fell upon them, setting some on fire.

Although the stomped the flesh blobs wreathed in purple flame with ease, that still left some adventures a tad charred.

“What is this?”

The corridor was chock full of broken skeletons—bones and skulls all over the place.

“Were they following us?”

Pushing on led to another encounter with a mass of burning flesh; dispatched as easily as before. Afraid of descending into hip-tall purple fog, Bairstowbury the Chaotic climbed on top of Hagar's shoulders.

Illustration by IdleDoodler

Not a bad call since the party indeed had to deploy their stomping boots once more. Four skeletons were turned to dust by Ambros's holiness. The party increased their pace dramatically, and exited this place uninterrupted.

They reached Midway by end of the day. The plan was to sleep and head to Hara for a multitude of reasons.

Sweetrain 4th, Fireday

Mavis, the High Priestess of Poseidon, confirmed that she doesn't have any visitations from a cursed spirit. They did the right thing.

Hagar met with Zenon Coke, Headmaster of the Assassins' Guild, to negotiate terms on his life. Alas, since seven separate contracts were signed, Hagar would need to pay at least 8 600 gold coins.

“And that's why, my dear friend, I had helpfully indicated that one of your mithral bars would be sufficient to cover our expenses for cancelling the contracts. Think about it and let me know no later then by next Spiritday.”

For a little bit of good news, the party found two letters waiting for them. Both Imrael and Namelin, two of Hara's wealthiest and most influential merchant families, are interested in representing the adventurers in distant markets like Tarantis, Viridistan, and City State of the Invincible Overlord.

“Perhaps we can play them against each other!” Bob thought excitedly.

Beorg and Bairstowbury spent the day drinking and pub hopping. They learned that commoners are increasingly worried about ever growing tensions between Namelin and the Red Queen. Will Hara plunge in bloody civil war?

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

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