Adventure #4: A Dismal Den of Dragon-Droppings PART FOUR
For reasons Valthrun cannot explain (because he doesn’t know), Sir Keegan went mad one evening at the stroke of the midnight. He slew his wife. He butchered his daughters. He attacked his friends and comrades-in-arms, cutting them down in cold blood. A murderous bloodlust was upon him, and none could stop Sir Keegan. He was more skilled with shield and blade than any other warrior at the keep, and he killed many men before they finally overthrew him by sheer numbers. Mortally wounded, Sir Keegan was finally forced to the lower levels, and the remaining soldiers slew their former comrade.
But out of respect for their friend and leader, and maybe a certain amount of love for a man they had trusted so much, they buried him in a holy tomb beneath the keep, maybe in hopes that it would abolish whatever hateful energy had infused his soul.
Keegan’s wife and children were buried elsewhere, but there is no record of where.
Valthrun believes that dark energies from the Shadowfell seeped out and slowly inundated Sir Keegan, attacking piece by piece this stalwart, chivalrous man, etching away at his soul like a black disease. He grew corrupted from within, and finally lashed out in an orgy of death. It is whispered to children that his ghost still haunts the grounds of the old keep, wailing in eternal agony for the atrocities he committed.
As for the mirror originally used to seal the rift, Valthrun says that two adventures have very recently recovered the mirror from a dragon’s tomb outside of town. Their names were Douvan Stahl and Merric Littlefoot. It is Valthrun’s belief that agents of Orcus are trying to reopen this rift permanently, and they wanted to use the mirror to reverse the magical seal. Douvan and Merric have taken the Mirror as far away as possible, back to Silverymoon actually.
The old scholar does not know if the mirror is essential for the dark ritual, but it certainly won’t be around to aid them. He does not know the name Kalarel at all, but Valthrun is aware of ORCUS: a demonic god of Undeath that is not worshipped among the normal Realmsian pantheon.
It is the sage’s suggestion, and this coincides with Lord Padraig’s wishes, that this rift must not be allowed to open again. Malevolent energy would flow unbridled across the region, and Winterhaven’s remote location would make help from outside very difficult, not until it was too late.
His story weighs heavily on their hearts as they head back to the Inn.
***
[GM Note: The group was close to leveling up, so I added a final impromptu encounter to boost everyone to 2nd before next time.]
The next morning they all wake up refreshed. There are preparations needed before they go to Shadowfell Keep, but they decide to make one final perimeter search around Winterhaven and its environs, to ensure that no lingering kobolds are in the area.
The dawn is cool, the grass damp with dew. Pink sunlight filters through rising mists and green trees as they hike outside of town and detour through the fields and farms. All is quiet for a while until they suddenly hear a man shouting. It’s Old Elian! He staggers toward them, utter terror etched on his face.
“It’s ‘orrible!” he sputters. “Somethun huge in me cornfield! Help!”
Sure enough, the stalks are waving ferociously as something tromps around inside.
Erevan, Helga, Irann and Brandis are alone, but they feel confident that they can handle the threat. Erevan scorches the corn with a blast of fire while Helga begins shouting insults and stomping her feet. A geyser of corn and dirt suddenly shoots into the air, and they realize that whatever was there has just burrowed down, and is heading straight for them!
They Ready Actions, and seconds later a large insectoid beast sprays up from the dirt road, its mandibles clacking. Multiple blows rain down on the creature, cracking through its hard carapace. It squeals in pain, but is a relentless foe. Arching its back, it sends a poisonous barb flying at Helga, piercing her neck. It annoys her more than anything, the weak poison.
The creature is soon killed, but their battle has drawn the attention of two more ankhegs that burst forth from the ground beside Erevan the wizard.
There must be a nest of these things somewhere, and the fight that started out simple suddenly grows substantially more difficult.
Poisoned barbs fly from the ankhegs as they assault their breakfast, but the PCs aren’t going down without a fight. Until, actually, Brandis DOES go down, bitten mercilessly by the insect’s massive jaws and whittled down by poison coursing through his veins. The ankheg isn’t smart enough to finish the warlord off, and it leaps to the next target: Helga.
Erevan has been backing off as far as possible though and nailing the beasts with magic missiles. Helga growls, butchering the animals with broad, crushing strikes, and finally bashes the brainpan of one into messy pulp. The fight is much harder than anticipated, but they finally vanquish the third beast, even as Elian the Old is cheering them on from the sidelines. “Kill dem bugs!”
They help Brandis to his feet, shaken but alive, and the group slowly limps back toward Winterhaven, glad that these ill-tempered critters didn’t get the best of them.
And there we stopped.
[GM Note: I used adult kruthik stats for the ankhegs] 
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