Story HourPost your ongoing tales from your campaigns, and read those from others for inspiration. Lots of other RPG boards post "Story Hours", but this is where it started!
Cas scans the oak panelled chamber, he knows he’s not on trial, it just feels like he is. The twelve members of the Grimbo City Council sit back in the shadows of the chamber, completely hidden from sight.
“I mean Molton Clay had suffered a terrible disaster, and we were sent there by the Church of Pelor to give aid. It’s the duty of all right-minded individuals to help these poor people, to try and discover what happened there…”
“And?” The voice comes out of the dark again, gruff and unreasonable.
“And what?”
“Did you discover what happened, the events of Molton Clay?”
“No, that is…”
“No?”
“I mean we uncovered some facts, horsemen, nearly fifty of them, they’d been in the village for a couple of days perhaps- looking for something…”
“What horseman, who were they?”
“We don’t know.”
“Don’t know?”
“No. Just that they were looking for something…”
“What?”
“What… what?”
“What were they looking for Casimir La Frond, Paladin of Pelor?”
“They were looking for…”
“Yes.”
Cas thinks about lying, the moment passes.
“A gem, they called it the “Eye of the Night’, it…”
“And did they find the jewel?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“How can you be certain?”
Again he hesitates.
“Because I have it.”
Which brings a momentary halt to the questions.
“Show us.”
Cas reaches into a pocket, brings forth the gem, it winks and glitters even in the shadowy light, warm in his hands.
“Good. Very good. Now look after it.”
The sound of scrapping chairs, a door opens, people, hidden in the shadows still, file out of the chamber.
“What’s… I say, could you… I mean… What are you going to do? Who were these men? Why did they want this so bad?”
The Paladin lunges forward holding the Eye of the Night aloft, it flares as it catches in a shaft of light, glows for a moment and then fades to a dull red colour, the Paladin stares at the gem- entranced. The guards grip hold of him, wrench him round, he’s still shackled, and drag Cas out of the chamber.
To a light filled room, the rest of the Goodman Gang are there, sans shackles. Khan appears, as if by magic, and with a bunch of keys in his hands, he removes the Paladin’s bonds, “no hard feelings?” He stares hard at Cas, “just doing my duty.”
“None, Captain.” Cas spits back.
“Actually it’s Major, just thought I’d come and see you off, the personal touch, you’re free of course, the Council regrets this incident, the Sergeant who reported your actions in Molton Clay has been disciplined and discharged from the service, didn’t even make ‘soldier’, I’m sure he’ll thank you if he runs into you again. Have a nice day.”
Major Khan turns and quickly walks away as a blinding light engulfs the sextet.
“What’s that light?” Cas turns back blinking hard.
“That’s the sun, do you want to take a look?” Ala grabs Cas’ arm and pulls him after her, out through the gaol doors and into the golden light of Grimbo.
The others file out after them, Newt leans into Bec, “what did you whisper to him… him in the cells?”
The Barbarian grins, “Buffet.”
“Nice one, bug guy.”
And there they stand, eyes blinking furiously after the dark of the cells, surrounded by the grime and filth of Grimbo.
Cas stretches, it feels good to be free, reaches out to Ala, whose smile is causing all sorts of sensations, he’s almost blushing.
THUMP
Someone runs into Cas, he catches hold of the someone, blinks back the light- it’s Arabella Ross in his arms, all heaving bosom and blood-red lips.
“Out of the frying pan…” Ala begins.
“Oh Cassy Wassy.” Arabella buries her head in the Paladins manly chest, “it’s so terrible”, her hand snakes round to squeeze his, ahem, manly buttock.
The Paladin blushes furiously.
“What is?”
And then Arabella feints away, the Paladin grabs her, then quickly realises how tired he is, he’s losing her… Bec steps in and grabs Arabella, lifts her up and then thumps her down over his shoulder, “Wheatsheaf. Buffet”, and strides off, the rag-tag bunch follow after, Ala and Cas hand in hand.
Several hours later the adventurers have washed away the dirt and grime and are now ensconced in Cas (and Ala’s) room, it’s snug, and Arabella has the only chair, she’s coming to the end of her tail.
“And so you really must do something to help, you must put a stop to the fiend they call “The Ripper.” Arabella mops her brow, “It’s hot in here- I’ll just undo a few buttons.”
She does.
It has the desired effect.
It gets much hotter.
Jim crosses his legs.
“How can we help?”
“Well these… ahem ladies, their mortal remains that is, have all been found in The Nunny, a terrible place you’ve no doubt heard of- it’s simply wretched there, so they tell me- thieves and their kind. Begging your pardon… its Tadpole isn’t it?” Arabella nods and smiles at Newt, he finds it in himself to politely smile and nod back- he’s feeling charitable and he’s also staring at a bosom he could ski down.
“I didn’t mean to offend your Dwarf.” Arabella bats her eyelids at Cas as she delivers her Coups De Grace.
“No offence taken, I’m sure.” Cas smiles back thinly. “What I want to know Arabella is what connection you have with these… ahem ladies?”
“Oh. I’m part of the W.I., the Women’s Institute, for the older lot it’s all Jam and Crochet, but for me it’s a chance to help these poor fallen souls that have been reduced to using their bodies to er… make ends meet, as they say. Oooo.”
Arabella slumps forward then catches herself, her hand grabs out and locks onto Cas’ thigh, squeezes, she looks up at him, “Just felt a little… flush.” Her hand inches up the Paladin’s thigh, “do say you’ll help.”
“But how can we…”
“Leave it to me.” Jim folds his arms, he has a plan.
“Wha?”
“Lady Arabella, I wonder if we could borrow one of your plainer dresses.”
Jim winks at Arabella, then pointedly looks at Cas.
“I don’t think Ala or Anya would particularly relish being used as bait for this fiend, and having to pretend to be a lady of… ahem loose morals.” Cas suddenly notices that everyone in the room is looking at him.
“I… I… that is…”
“I bet you’ve got lovely legs.” Lady Arabella rubs the Paladin’s calf.
“I… I couldn’t my station, what would people say… I… I… That is… Not too plain Arabella, something that matches my eyes; and not red- it makes me look fat.”
Sometime later the Eye of the Night is safely under lock and key with Father Whiskin in St. Jimbo’s, and Cas is dressed as a tart.
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Turn 53: Catch Up
“Jim” Bowen
Human Male Ranger Level 2
NG HP 23 AC 19 Init +2
Str 14 Dex 15 Con 14 Int 12 Wis 12 Ch 10
Saves Fort +6 Ref +4 Will +2
+1 Battleaxe (family heirloom) +5 d8+3
Longbow (Masterwork Mighty (+2)) +5 d8+2 or Rapid Fire +3/+3
Dagger, Silver +4 or +4 d4+2
Armour: Griffin insignia Masterwork Breastplate and Large Masterwork Wooden Shield.
Feats: Skill Focus (Trapmaking), Point Blank Shot, Track, Favoured Enemy- Dire Animals, Ranger Two-Weapon Fighting & Ambidexterity, Rapid Shot.
Items of note: Potion Cure Lt x4; Potion Darkvision; Cloak of Resistance +1, 20 Silver Arrows, Vial of Antitoxin, Potion Spider Climb, 10 Sunrods.
Light Warhorse “Sarge” & associated kit and caboodle.
Bec
Human Male Barbarian Level 2
CG HP 31 AC 17 Init +1
Str 18 Dex 12 Con 18 Int 11 Wis 8 Ch 9
Saves Fort +7 Ref +1 Will -1
Mighty (+4) Masterwork Composite Longbow +4 d8+4
Dagger +6 or +3 d4+4
Greatclub +6 d10+6
Longsword Masterwork +7 d8+4 (usually with Buckler +1)
Greatsword Masterwork Cold Iron +7 2d6+6
Armour: Studded Leather Masterwork, Buckler +1.
Feats: Toughness, Power Attack, Rage, Cleave & Uncanny Dodge.
Skills of note: Climb +9 Concentration +4 Jump +8 Ride +3 Spot +3 Swim +8 Use Rope +4
Items of note: Climbers Kit, Potion Cure Lt x1, Potion Blur, Bracers of Armour +1.
Heavy Warhorse “Kaul” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.
Lord Casimir
Human Male Paladin of Pelor Level 2
LG HP 23 AC 19 Init +1
Str 15 Dex 13 Con 14 Int 14 Wis 11 Ch 14
Saves Fort +7 Ref +3 Will +4
+1 Longsword Cold Iron +5 d8+3
Longbow +3 d8
Light Mace +4 d6+2
Armour: Shiny Breastplate +1 & Sparkling Large Masterwork Steel Shield
Feats: Negotiator, Dodge, Mobility, Detect Evil, Lay on Hands, Divine Health, Smite Evil, Aura of Courage.
Items of note: 3 Flasks of Holy Water, 5 Silver Arrows, Potion of Cure Light Wounds x4, Potion of Vision, Healing Kit.
Light Warhorse “Reggie” & associated kit and caboodle.
Anya’Drea
Human Female Wizard Level 2
CG HP 14 AC 15 Init +5
Str 10 Dex 13 Con 12 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 17
Saves Fort +1 Ref +1 Will +3
Quarterstaff +1 +2 d6+1
Light Crossbow Masterwork +3 d8
Dagger Silver +1 or +2 d4
Armour: Leather Armour, Ring of Protection +1, Bracers of Armour +1
Items of note: Scrolls- not so many of them as before, Wand of Burning Hands (Level 3- 13 Charges); Potion Cure Lt. x4, Potion of Intelligence, Pearl of Power (lvl 1), Necklace of Fireballs Type I, 2 Bags of Caltrops; 6 Tindertwigs, 10 Sunrods.
“Swish” Animated Broom companion AC15 Mv30 Init+2 +1 Slam d4 Hardness 5 Fort +0 Ref +2 Will -5
Light Warhorse “Mr. Fizz” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.
Newt
Gnome Male Rogue Level 2
NG HP 15 AC 19 Init +3
Str 11 Dex 16 Con 14 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 10
Saves Fort +2 Ref +6 Will +2
Heavy Mace Masterwork +3 d6
Light Crossbow Masterwork +6 d6
+1 Dagger (wielded as Shortsword) of Spell Storing (Shocking Grasp D8+2) +3 D4+1
Adamantine Ceremonial Dagger (wielded as Shortsword) +2 D4
Dagger Masterwork Silver +3 or +6 d3
Armour: +1 Chain Shirt
Feats: Nimble Fingers, Low Light Vision, +1 To Hit vs. Goblinoids and Kobolds, +4 Dodge vs. Giants, Point Blank Shot, Evasion.
Skills of note: Alchemy +10 Appraise +5 Balance +7 Climb +4 Craft (Locksmith) +5 Decipher Script +5 Disable Device +10 Escape Artist +4 Forgery +3 Hide +10 Intimidate +3 Jump +5 (+35 with Ring of Jumping) Listen +7 Move Silently +8 Open Lock +10 Pick Pocket +4 Read Lips +5 Ride (Pony) +3 Scry +3 Search +8 Spot +5 Tumble +4 Use Rope +3
Items of note: Silk Climbing Rope, 10 Tindertwigs, 3 Thunderstones, 2 Tanglefoot bags, 10 Sunrods, 2 Smoke Sticks, 5 Alchemist’s Fire, Thieves Tools Masterwork, 10 Silver tipped Bolts, 20 Masterwork Bolts, 3 Flasks of Acid, Potion Cure Lt x4, Potion Spider Climb x1, Ring of Jumping, Ring of Minor Sonic Resistance.
War Pony “Dobbin” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.
Ala
Elf Female Cleric Level 2
NG HP 17 AC 21 Init +3
Str 14 Dex 17 Con 12 Int 10 Wis 17 Ch 13
Saves Fort +4 Ref +3 Will +6
Longsword Masterwork +5 d8+2
Composite Longbow Masterwork Mighty (+2) +5 d8+2
Dagger Silver +3 or +4 d4+2
+1 Dagger +4 or +5 d4+3
Masterwork Heavy Mace +4 d8+2
Armour: Chain Shirt Masterwork, Large Masterwork Steel Shield & Ring of Protection +2
Feats: Point Blank Shot, Weapon Focus (Longsword), Turn Undead (4/day).
Skills of note: Balance +3 Concentration +3 Diplomacy +3 Escape Artist +3 Heal +7 Hide +3 Listen +5 Move Silently +3 Ride (Horse) +3 Sense Motive +3 Spot +5 Use Rope +3 Wilderness Lore +3
Spells: Lvl 0 (4) Lvl 1 (4)
Domains: War & Good.
Items of note: 2 Healer’s Kits, Scroll Protection from Elements, Potion Cure Light Wounds x4, Potion Cure Moderate Wounds, Scroll Hold Person & Deeper Darkness and a few others, Vial of Silversheen.
Light Riding Horse “Slim” & associated kit and caboodle.
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Turn 54: Turning Tricks
It’s much later, nearly midnight, the witching hour, the Gang have split up and headed off into The Nunny, they each have their allotted roles to play in tonight’s investigation.
Newt is on his own, freelance, he knows the lanes and backstreets well, it’s a cold fretful night in the heart of The Nunny. Crumbling tenements and narrow streets, rat haunted alleys and seedy taverns, the place reeks of death, decay and hopelessness.
And so here comes Newt through the warren-like maze, surrounded by filthy shops and homes, many of them derelict, boarded over, home to drunks and worse.
He spies a light ahead, “Blackburn’s Bakery”, he approaches cautiously, spots the proprietor inside stacking shelves with fresh loaves of bread, and small pastries, time to quiz the populace, demonstrate his street smarts.
Ding-a-ling.
The bell on the door chimes as Newt steps into the warmth and light.
“We’re not open, half-an-hour.” Blackburn’s a big man; he looks more like a dock labourer than a baker.
“I’m not here to satisfy my appetite.” Newt hooks his thumbs into his belt, affects a tough guy pose.
“Well… What do you want?” Blackburn seems, if anything, a little put out, the baker reaches for a length of wood with a nail in behind the counter, rests his hand on the clubs handle.
“Do you know who I am?” Newt continues his charade.
“Nope.”
“I’m the one they call- ‘Newt’”, he waits for the man to register this new fact, Blackburn’s expression doesn’t waver.
“Never heard of you, look what do you want I’m busy?”
“I require information, and you’d best comply or it will go badly for you. Now…”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, I mean, well… yes, that is.”
Blackburn grabs the club and stomps around to the counter side of the shop, stands a good ten feet away from Newt, allowing the Gnome to get a good look at the length of wood and particularly the nail in the end of it.
Gulp
“How much did you say the cream slices are?”
“We’re not open yet.”
“I’ll come back in a bit then.”
Ding-a-ling.
Newt retreats, at speed, into the night. The investigation is going well.
Meanwhile, in the Bradley Arms, a seedy dive in the centre of The Nunny, two strangers nurse their half-pints and stare at their fellow customers, who stare back.
“You ask?” Jim whispers to Bec, the Barbarian shakes his head and clutches tighter to his tankard.
“Well I’m not asking, have you seen the size of him?”
Jim turns to stare, Bec follows his gaze, there are a group of men at the bar, rough and ready, the largest of which is a head taller than Bec, which is pretty tall, and big with it.
“I’m not even sure what to ask?” Jim whispers again, “or how?”
Bec nods, the smallest member of the group at the bar is wandering over towards their table.
“Who the feck are you?” The man slurs.
Jim notices first the myriad scars and cuts that dot his dirty armour, and clothes, and oooh that must have hurt, his face.
“We’re adventurers, the Goodman Gang, you may have heard of us- we’re trying to…”
“Never heard of you… What you looking at?” The later delivered in Bec’s direction.
Bec stands, rather unfolds, and fills the space before the interloper.
“Get out you dumb ox, you don’t scare me, and you pretty boy.”
“Now that’s about enough of that.” Jim stands, the ruffian jabs a finger in the Ranger’s chest.
“I said get gone, we don’t want your sort here, if you don’t clear off there might be a little accident.” He grins, and looks back to his friends, who grin back and begin to shuffle towards the scene of the aforementioned accident- nonchalant, and yet full of menace.
“Who’s going to make us leave?” Jim folds his arms.
“Me.” Scarface shoves Jim back, the Ranger clatters into his chair, shoots a hand out against a wall to prevent himself from falling.
Bec’s lightning fast.
THUNK
Scarface goes down, blood gushing from his broken nose, recently in close contact with the Barbarian’s head.
“Get ‘em.”
The seven others, already on their way, dive in.
SMACK
The first is met by a right hook, Bec again, the man drops like a sack-of-spuds and lies still on the floor of the bar.
Two attempt to grapple the Barbarian, line him up for the big guy to start swinging. Bec’s an electric eel; he slithers and wrenches himself free from their grasp.
A second pair grab Jim by the arms, hold him tight, while a third steps forward aims his haymaker and swings, at the last moment Jim ducks down and in, dragging his capturers off-balance.
SMACK
The guy connects with his own man, the ruffian holding Jim’s left arm fades and folds to the floor.
“Pete, are you… OOOOWF.”
Jim interrupts the ruffian’s conversation, by kicking him as hard as he can in his groin, the guy folds then lurches forward onto all fours, dry heaves- seeing stars.
“I said leave us alone.” Jim shouts and wrenches his arm free from the last of the trio menacing him, also the only one left standing. The ruffian spies the exit, looks round to see Bec still struggling with his compatriots, he swings wildly at Jim, connects but only a glancing blow and then turns and runs for the door. But not quick enough the Ranger tags him, spins him round and drags him down, Jim’s knee crunches into the guy’s face, he flops to the floor a mess of blood and broken teeth.
Bec meanwhile has thrown the last of the pair struggling to hold him off, he grins- ready to exact some revenge.
CRUNCH
The giant assailant smashes a chair into Bec’s head, the Barbarian, slowly collapses.
Leaving three ruffians and Jim.
“I just wanted to…” Jim begins, and is grabbed, easily.
The giant guy rushes over.
BAM
And smashes Jim in the face, his head rocks back, as if on a spring, there’s two of everything, everyone, he blinks furiously, trying to correct his vision.
“Now I told you…”
BAM
“To leave…”
CRACK
“But you wouldn’t…”
SMACK
“Listen, would you.”
BIFF
“So now you’re going to…”
SLAP
“Pay.”
ZZZZZZZIPCRUNCH
The big man suddenly hits the deck face first, courtesy of Bec who grabs and then pulls his legs from under him. The Barbarian stares at the two ruffians remaining, still holding Jim, then crawls over to the body of the giant on the floor, who’s coming round, not for long.
SMASH
Bec crashes the huge guys face into the bar floor again- he’s out cold, and then begins to drag himself to his feet.
The remaining pair of ruffians scarper back the way they came, clearly there’s an exit in the rear of the Bradley Arms. They’re soon gone.
Jim, now unsupported, flops into his chair, and goes for his glass, it’s not where he thinks it is- he spills the lot on the floor.
“Well that showed them.” He manages and then crashes face first into the table in front of him.
The half-a-dozen other patrons of the bar get back to what they were doing, the show’s over, Bec staggers to his feet, hefts Jim over his shoulder and trudges out of the hostelry and into the cold night.
The investigation is now well under way.
A little way away, in a busier section of The Nunny.
“Good time darl’?” The rather large female Half-Orc standing next to Cas stares hard at the Paladin, can she through my guise Cas wonders. He’s wearing a lilac frock with silk petticoats, a proper whalebone corset, with a pair of grapefruit- fresh from the docks, stuffed in it, and a beautiful flame-red wig, oh and far too much make-up. The wig is particularly effective; it matches a paste-ruby brooch he’s, sorry, she’s wearing.
A passing punter glances at the odd pair, the Half-Orc and the Paladin, stops for a second to stare, and then shakes his head and moves off, at speed.
“Trade’s slow”, the Paladin offers, to more stares.
“Not had a bite.” Cas finishes.
Still the stares.
“Look have I done something wrong?” Cas turns to the Half-Orc and asks, his voice trying to find the right octave.
“Yew tork funny.” The Half-Orc manages.
“I’ve gotta saw froat.” The Paladin massages the spot and turns away from the street-walker’s gaze.
“Yew wanna luk afta vat.”
Cas nods.
Punters pass on by.
Across from the pair Anya and Ala watch from a shadowy alley, ready for any sign of trouble, the two are wearing men’s clothes and have acquired and applied stick-on moustaches, Anya’s of enormous size and bushiness.
DMs Interlude- don’t ask why, I’ve learnt not to.
The moustaches are very itchy, Anya scrats at the thing, pulls it off and furiously rubs the spot, then swiftly reapplies it in the half light, it’s off-centre and at a preposterous angle.
“It’s bloody cold.” Ala shivers.
“These bloody trousers are drafty- the wind goes right up…”
“I say are either of you young chaps free, when I say free I mean… ahem available.”
The interloper is very well dressed, a gentleman- to look at.
Anya looks at Ala. Ala looks at Anya, still processing the gentleman’s words, trying to make sense… Ala gets it.
SLAP
“Ger off wid ya.” Ala shrieks, the punter skedaddles tout suite.
The pair puff out their chests, and then remember not to, and then stare across the street to the empty spot where the Paladin and the Half-Orc were so recently standing.
“Wha…”
They head over in a rush but the odd couple are nowhere to be seen.
Meanwhile, not very far away, in a darkened alley.
“It’s jus dis way a littul.” Crazy Klina the Half-Orc hooker leads Cas on.
“That’s awfully good of you, don’t want to put you out.” Cas smiles back, reverting to type.
FWOM
Cas turns, something just swished by his head, he spies the Half-Orc recovering from her attack, the creature seems to have a small weighted black sack in his hands, a what-do-you-call-it, sap, that’s it.
The Half-Orc swings again, Cas steps aside, a pitiful attempt really, the sap spins out of her hand and thumps into the wall of the alley, explodes scattering wet sand mixed with pebbles.
The pair stop what they’re doing and stare for a while at the now defunct weapon.
“Are you mugging me?” Cas enquires.
“Yeth.” The Half-Orc replies.
“Oh.”
SMACK
Cas punches the Half-Orc in the face, she staggers backwards holding her jaw.
“Stop it, it’s silly.” The Paladin manages before the creature, still in a crouch, barrels towards him, aiming to bring him down. Cas swiftly steps aside, grabs the Half-Orc’s arm, arresting the creature’s progress instantly, and quickly brings it up behind her back, into an arm-lock.
“I said stop it. Do you understand?”
The Half-Orc nods, and then the tears start.
“I’m ownlee doin dis cos ov my kids, hate ter fink of dem goin wid owt. No foowd in de ouse, nuffink, pleez elp me.” Crazy Klina slumps back onto the Paladin and bawls and snots.
Cas lets go of the poor creature’s arm and is instantly engulfed by the sobbing harlot.
“I… That is… I… Here take this…” He hands over a purse of money; the Half-Orc snatches it and then looks up into the Paladin’s eyes.
“I’m not who you think I are, I mean, am. I’m a man… I mean a Paladin… A man Paladin, I mean. Look my name’s Casimir La Frond, you can contact me at the Church of Pelor, St. Jimbo’s… I have to…”
“CAS!”
It’s Ala’s voice and she’s desperate by the sound of things.
“I have to go… St. Jimbo’s, remember… If I can help.”
And then he’s gone, leaving the Half-Orc standing sobbing, wiping her eyes, and counting the money in the purse.
Several hours later, back at the Inn, and back in Cas’ (and Ala’s) room the group reconvene to share their findings. It doesn’t take long.
“Nothing.” The Paladin stares. “Nothing.” States the obvious again.
“Right then tomorrow we’ll see Father Whiskin, see if he knows anything, we go out again tomorrow night, we need to help these people, they may have sacrificed their dignity but they shouldn’t have to sacrifice their lives, I think I understand their plight. Yes, tonight has been a revelation, these poor creatures having to sell their bodies to feed their families, in constant danger...”
Cas stops talking, looks all misty eyed for a moment.
“I looked good in a dress didn’t I?”
He continues with misty eyed for a while then suddenly looks very serious.
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Turn 55: Things that go Bump in the night.
“What’s that banging?”
Silence for a moment, a perplexed silence.
“It’s me.” Cas’ voice in the dark.
“Shhh… There’s someone at the door.” Ala states.
And so there is, Ala pulls the covers over her and pointedly stares at Cas.
“I’m going then.” Ala nods at the Paladin, she’s not getting up.
Cas stumbles out of the warm bed and into the cold room, grabs a shirt and puts it on, he stalks to the door, opens it an inch.
Crazy Klina pushes it the rest of the way open, she’s not alone, the Innkeeper’s standing there in his nightshirt holding a lantern, Klina’s sobbing still, or is that again?
“Sorry. She’s with me. Church of Pelor business.” The Paladin smiles weakly as the Innkeeper tramps off down the hallway grumbling to himself.
“It’s terrible, so terrible… Who’s she?” Crazy Klina heads for the bed and then notices it’s occupied.
“I’m Ala, who are you?” Ala proffers a hand then suddenly doesn’t seem so sure, “Cas- who’s this?” With as much disdain as she can muster in her voice.
“Ala this is… Sorry, what’s your name?”
“Klina, Crazy Klina.” Klina offers and ticks and sobs.
“Ala this is… ahem Crazy Klina, she’s the… ahem good lady I bumped into this evening, I told you about her earlier.”
“Terrible, oh Cas, it’s so terrible.” Crazy Klina sobs on.
“What is?” Cas stoops and places his arm around the Half-Orc.
She burrows into him, “I found… There was someone there… A body.”
The Half-Orc collapses some more, sobs uncontrollably, Cas comforts her and at the same time turns and mouths at Ala, “Wake the others.”
Thirty minutes later the septet, lead by Klina, are back in The Nunny and staring down at a scene of devastation.
The killer obviously took their time, at the end of the narrow alley is a small courtyard, and in the middle of the courtyard is the body- sprawled on the cobblestones amid weeds and trash. Or what is left of it. Organs have been lined up on the floor, in neat rows. Bits of flesh hang from a clothes line which bisects the area. Two eye balls watch with interest from a window ledge, between them a thick red tongue. The entire courtyard is drenched in blood.
BLEEEUUGH
Jim loses his lunch and staggers out of the alley.
Ala, weeping, quietly heads over to the corpse.
“I’ll get Jim, and the watch.” Anya heads off.
Cas nods. Bec still hasn’t moved. Newt approaches the body cautiously; Klina grips tight to Cas, still sobbing.
“Cas you’ll want to look at this…” Ala turns to look at the Paladin.
“What?”
“Come and see.”
Klina is passed over to Bec, the Paladin approaches the body. Ala shows him what he needs to see- it’s a rather small penis, the corpse is a male, obviously, although the offending organ has been detached. Cas swallows bile, turns swiftly and marches quickly away.
Newt hovers over the corpse, wipes his hands, and then heads into the blood and gore, looking for pockets to search- there’s plenty to find, obviously this wasn’t a robbery.
He heads back to the Paladin, Ala follows the Gnome back, they examine what Newt has found and wait for Anya and Jim to return with the Watch.
Which may take a while, the pair return fifteen minutes later, without the Watch.
“They’re not coming.” Anya offers.
“What?”
“They say that their not going to The Nunny at night, they’ll collect what’s left of the body in the morning.”
“What?” Cas is a little short of apoplexy, only a little mind.
“They said that none of the Watch travel The Nunny in the night.”
“Well that’s not true for a start.” Newt pipes up, and then hands over a bloody Watch badge and official issue billy club.
“So who’s he?” Cas looks back at the corpse.
“Corporal Klean.” Klina is bent over the body; she’s cleaned the blood away from the face.
“Who’s Corporal Klean, and why’s he here then?”
“We kall im Corporal Punishment, he cums dawn ere tew… tew ave is way, he’s a bastud, a durty viowlent bastud.”
PAH
Crazy Klina spits on the corpse, “Gud riddance, tha’s wha I sez.”
“I thought this guy just killed women?” Jim adds.
“How very odd, it seems all is not as it first appears.” Anya states.
“Strange that.” Bec chips in then regrets it, the rest of the Gang turn to stare, to see if he has anything else to say, Bec shrugs, and keeps schtum.
“I’ll stay here and wait for the Watch, they can’t be long now, the suns almost up- the rest of you get some sleep, we’ll meet at St. Jimbo’s do some digging. We’re coming back out here tonight so make sure you’re fresh.” Cas states.
The gang and Klina head off, Ala with a last kiss for her man.
“And Jim, make sure Klina gets home safely. Klina why don’t you meet us at St. Jimbo’s, Father Whiskin may have some jobs that need doing- I don’t want to see you out here again, understand.”
Klina nods, whispers “he’s so brave” to Jim, and heads off with the Ranger.
Afternoon sees the group gathered again in St. Jimbo’s, Klina has been hired as a cleaner for the Church, Cas has set aside some money to pay her wages, actually enough to keep her employed for the next six months. Farmer Giles potters about the place too, he’s much recovered, although maudlin- what with his family being slaughtered, he helps out where he can.
“I know bits of the story”, Father Whiskin begins, “it all started a very long time ago, in The Nunny, five murders I think- all of them ladies of the night, their bodies dismembered, eviscerated, the organs, eyes and tongues removed.”
“Who was it?” Jim enquires.
“Nobody knows, the murders just stopped, no one was ever caught.”
“Do you think it could be happening again, the same person?” Anya asks.
“I doubt it, the first murders happened over 100 years ago, what I do know is the last victim lived very near the place you found that body last night, near some run down Inn, I don’t know the name of the place. But I know a Gnome who will, Soloman, our oldest worshipper, he’s lived in Grimbo for nearly 200 years, I’ll go and see him this evening. We should meet up tomorrow; I should have the answer by then.”
Suddenly there’s a crashing noise from the Chapel, the gang and father Whiskin rush to find out what’s going on.
Crazy Klina backs towards the altar, she’s waving about the remains of a six foot long pew- which must weigh a couple of hundred pounds. On the floor of the Chapel is a soldier of the Grimbo Watch, bleeding from a head wound. There are three other soldiers, and behind them a familiar figure, it’s Major Khan.
“How dare you violate this holy place…” Father Whiskin begins.
“We caught this harlot with a silver candlestick in her hands.” The Major volunteers.
“This is Klina, the cleaner.” Cas strides over to the Half-Orc and takes the pew from her hands, nearly fumbles it, it’s bloody heavy.
“Ah. That explains it.” Khan offers, then as quick as lightning, “Sorry good lady, a thousand apologies, I will see it to it that this foolish soldier is punished for his transgressions. Father Whiskin my apologies to you also, please understand we thought this woman was about to make off with Church property. And now Lord Casimir La Frond, could I perhaps have a word, in private.”
Khan wanders off heading towards the nave, and a quiet corner.
“Watch him.” Ala offers, Cas winks and heads off after Khan.
Khan is waiting for the Paladin, he starts up straight away.
“I want this fiend as much as you, The Nunny is a very dangerous place, particularly if you’re wearing a uniform. The Watch would therefore like to grant you temporary membership until this task is complete, plain clothes of course, you will have access to information, men and other resources, we will also pay your expenses for the duration of this investigation, there is also a 500 Gold Piece bounty on the killer’s head. In short Casimir la Frond we are at your service.”
Major Khan bows low, and comes up smiling, leaving the Paladin momentarily speechless.
Twenty minutes later the gang are back in Father Whiskin’s office.
“So what did you say?” Newt asks.
“I told him to shove it where the sun don’t shine.”
“Pelor forgive us.” Father Whiskin crosses himself.
“You said no to money?” Newt’s ears are playing up.
“Cas…” Ala begins.
“Then I said yes, well sort of, well to everything except the Watch bit- so we’ve got access, and resources, and the money Newt, but we’re not members of the bloody Watch.”
“What did he say?” Jim enquires.
“He said yes, very quickly… too quickly, I can’t help feeling I’ve given them what they want somehow. He asked to be kept informed of the investigation; I said I would prepare a short report for him each day. Then he grabbed my hand, grinned and shook it hard, to seal the deal he said, he seemed awfully pleased.”
The assembled crowd nod.
“We’ll meet back in the Inn at ten, till then rest and relaxation- if you need it, otherwise do some more digging, Anya, I hope you don’t mind but I’ve fixed it for you to go and see the Watch Sergeant in Nuns Corner, find out who the victim was?”
Anya nods and smiles.
“I’ll go with her.” Jim puts his hand up, and then remembers he’s not eight any more, “if that’s ok with you Anya?”
Anya, once again, nods and smiles.
Some time later, in the same chamber Cas so recently found himself answering to Grimbo City Council, Major Khan stands, to all intents and purposes, in the witness box.
“He accepted, with one clause.”
“Yes?” The voice is gruff, used to being obeyed.
“They don’t want to be members of the City Watch.”
“All the privileges and none of the responsibilities, he saw you coming Major Khan; I expect you laid down the law?”
“No… That is… Yes, well… I accepted his offer. I figured…”
“WHAT?”
“Sir, I was only doing what I was told, at any price, that’s what I was told.”
“YOU GAVE HIM EVERYTHING?”
“Yes… Sir, it’s what I was told…”
“Good.”
“What sir?”
“I said good Major Khan, you have done well.”
The sound of a chair scraping against the floor, being pushed back, then nothing… Silence, it draws out.
“Sir… Sir, can I go?”
But Major Khan is alone.
Funny he doesn’t remember the sound of a door opening, or closing.
The "investigation" reminds me of so many similar sessions I've been in both as player and DM - hapless flailing around, upsetting the locals, and relentlessly following the wrong clue while ignoring the real ones. (Well, actually your lot weren't quite that bad.)
And a nice sinister twist in the last post - enemies in high places (and friends in low ones) - just what every adventuring party needs.
The "investigation" reminds me of so many similar sessions I've been in both as player and DM - hapless flailing around, upsetting the locals, and relentlessly following the wrong clue while ignoring the real ones. (Well, actually your lot weren't quite that bad.)
And a nice sinister twist in the last post - enemies in high places (and friends in low ones) - just what every adventuring party needs.
Keep it coming.
Yep that's the way of it-
"Do you know where the entrance to the dungeon is?"
"Nope."
"Ok. Next."
That and a little grandstanding by the characters about sums up the investigation so far, they're not used to this roleplaying malarkey.
Thanks for the comments, much appreciated.
Anyway from bad to...
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Turn 56: The X-Files
Anya and Jim are in the interview room at the Nuns Corner Watch House, with Sergeant Dickens.
“So, you’re the Goodman Gang, we’ve been hearing things about you.”
“Good things I hope?” Anya smiles at the Sergeant.
“Good and bad, but that’s not what you’re here for is it, so let’s get down to business- what do you want to know?” The Sergeant shuffles his papers, and looks mildly interested.
“Tell us what you know about Corporal Klean, last night’s victim, I believe.” Jim leans in and onto the Sergeant’s desk. He’s met with a stare.
The silence goes on a while.
“Corporal Klean worked here on the Watch for the last fifteen years, before last night, he was a good Watchman.”
“That’s not what we heard?” It’s Anya’s turn to lean in.
She stares back at the Sergeant, who eventually looks away.
“Corporal Klean had a way with the ladies…”
“That’s not what we heard.” Anya bangs her fist hard down on the desk.
The silence extends.
“Corporal Klean used to go down to The Nunny and hassle the hookers, he used to… ahem, how can I put it- he used to get a little heavy, smack them around a little… but hey they’re only hookers, right.”
Sergeant Dickens tries a half-smile on Jim.
It gets him nowhere.
“Anything else Sergeant?”
“No. Nothing I can think of, but if I do remember anything, well… I’ll get right to you.”
The Sergeant gets up.
“We done? Nobodies going to miss Klean. Only I have work to do, real work.”
Ten minutes later Jim and Anya are out of the building, and are still angry.
“What do you want to do?” Anya meets Jim’s look.
“I…”
Ten minutes later they’re back in the Wheatsheaf Inn and all over each other, like a rash.
Then later that night…
Ala and Anya are dressed to the nines, they look beautiful- stunning. Bec is tonight’s chaperone; he’s also dressed up for the occasion, wanna be pimp wearing the latest fashions, a pair of flared pants with various sigils on them, a purple sombrero style hat, and a pink shirt- open to the navel.
With a gold medallion.
Bec seems to be taller.
He’s wearing platform shoes.
Over the street are the rest of the gang; Cas, Jim and Newt; mostly hidden from sight.
“I don’t like this.” Cas worries.
“Neither do I.” Jim concurs.
Newt gives the pair a stare.
“What are you two worried about, they’ve got Bec over there.”
Jim and Cas look across the street, at Bec- he doesn’t look that tough.
He does look busy, it seems Anya and Ala have attracted quite a crowd.
“How much?”
Bec shrugs- this wasn’t part of plan.
“For both of them?”
Bec looks confused.
“Whatever he’s offering I’ll double it.”
Bec’s out of his depth.
“I…” Bec stammers.
A wannabe customer grabs out to paw Anya.
Bec breaks his arm; it’s as easy as that.
Which causes a bit of a fuss.
Ten seconds later there’s a crowd and they’re not happy, Bec is doing the best he can, hands dart out from the from all directions, Ala’s shirt gets ripped.
“Pelor damn you, how much for the pair- I won’t take long?”
It’s all getting too much for the harassed Barbarian, he loses control, pushing and shoving trying to keep the crowd at bay, who aren’t happy.
It gets out of hand very quickly.
Cas, Jim and Newt are quickly on the scene, trying to push their way through to the beleaguered trio but there are too many people.
“Come on, come on, plenty to go round.”
Jim and Newt stare at the Gnome, that’s not the kind of thing they want to hear.
It takes a good while to push through the mass of irate punters, and when they do…
Bec, Anya and Ala are gone.
“Where…” Jim starts.
Cas scans the area, there’s not a lot to see, apart from the milling punters.
“They can’t have gone far, can they?”
The crowd begins to break up, there are alleys everywhere, in fact they could have gone anywhere.
Anya and Ala drag Bec down the alley, further into the shadows, the darkness; the Barbarian is still frothing at the mouth, gibbering incoherently.
The trio come to a halt, out of breath, now where are they?
The high, windowless brick walls of the buildings flanking the narrow alleyway rise up prison-like on either side, causing the walls to echo every sound. A huge rat stalks through the rubbish that lies scattered about, glaring at Ala with hungry eyes.
“Where are we?”
The three look about.
A strange smell clings to the air, but not the festering stench of rotting refuse. It’s something altogether different. There’s a bundle stretched across the cobblestones, it looks like a pile of rags at first.
Then their eyes adjust to the dim light, they realise the mass before them is actually the twisted shape of a human male, his throat torn open, eyes wide and staring.
Out of the shadows comes a hunch-backed, emaciated figure covered with oozing sores and festering ulcers, the figure lurks over to the corpse, like a wolf guarding its hard-earned prey, then it notices it has company, its eyes glisten in the dark. With a speed that belies its diseased appearance, the creature springs…
And is all over Ala before the Priestess of Correllon can defend herself, a claw scratches her right wrist, another across her right cheek, a deep cut, the fiend leans in and snarling bites a chunk of fresh from above Ala’s breast, she screams, almost feints away. The Ghast’s poison courses through her, she can feel her whole body clench, she shakes her head, lashes out blindly, the poison has no affect.
The creature exudes an unholy stink, Bec, already startled from his previous predicament, slumps over, and voids his stomach.
Anya reacts in an instant scatters backwards, looking for cover, “Smidgin”, a Magic Missile thumps into the Ghast causing the creature to fumble its grips on Ala who does all she can to wrench the thing from her, prevent it from attacking again.
“Death to you priestesssssssss.”
The creature chatters and spits in her face.
But Bec is back up in an instant, he grabs Anya and guides her over to the creature, it has it’s facing away from the pair, they stab and slice at the creature’s back, as Ala, having spotted the plan, now struggles to keep a hold of the thing.
The fight is bloody, but short, the Ghast is no more.
“What the hell was that?” Anya enquires.
“A Ghast, an undead creature of the night.” Ala replies.
“D’you think it was the Ripper?”
“Too simple, now where the devil are we?”
Bec begins to have a look about; Ala meanwhile sets to healing herself then quickly scurries over to the body.
“Who was he?” Anya wanders over.
“EEeeeerrgghh. Don’t touch it. Rot Grubs.” Ala backs off sharpish.
“Out the way.” Anya steps forward wand in hand, “Flame on.”
And bathes the corpse in fire, killing the vermin instantly.
“BUFFET.” Bec shouts as Jim, Cas and Newt scuttle into view.
“Where in Pelor’s name did you escape too?”
Cas spots the burning body.
“And who the hell is that?”
Ten minutes later, stories told, the gang are ready again for action, when Jim makes an interesting discovery.
“Cas.”
“What Jim?”
“That Ghast, came from down here.” Jim points to a loose sewer grate, it looks to have been recently removed and only slid back into place.
“Pass me a sunrod.” Newt hands one over to the Ranger.
Jim lights the rod and flings it through the drain, there’s a sewer pipe below.
“What do you think?”
“I think we should investigate, it’s the only clue we’ve found so far, even if it is just a pack of undead at least we will have made some progress.”
And so it is decided- Bec, Anya and Ala will head back to Wheatsheaf Inn replace their street clothes with their adventuring gear. Jim will head to the nearest Watch House tell them about the latest death, and the Ghast. Cas and Newt will check out the area, see what they can discover, while keeping an eye out on the sewer grate.
The various factions head off to do as they’ve been instructed.
Cas and Newt have been waiting quite a while when a light comes on across the way, “Blackburn’s Bakery.”
“I’ll just pop over, see if I can find any sustenance.” Cas states, “You coming?”
“I’ll keep an eye out here.” Newt thinks better of it, remembers his last encounter with the Baker.
Ding-a-ling.
“Shop?” Cas grips the counter, Blackburn appears from a door in the back of the shop.
“We’re closed yet, half-an-hour we’ll be open.” Blackburn moves behind the counter.
“Do you know who I am?” Cas asks.
“Nope.” Blackburn shakes his head and grips the handle of his club, the one with the nail in it.
“Good, hush-hush”, Cas nods, “Well I’ll be off, have a good night sir.” Cas salutes the man, and almost as an after thought slides a gold coin onto the counter.
Ding-a-ling.
“Sir?” Blackburn calls over.
“Yes, what can I do for you?” Cas wanders back into the bakery.
Ding-a-ling.
“It’s just that I’ve seen you out there, can I ask you something?”
“Fire away.”
“What are you doing? Out there?”
“Oh.” Cas looks about a bit, there’s no one else around. “We’re looking for the Ripper, all these murders, working for the Church of Pelor.”
“Oh.” Blackburn scratches his chin.
“Well, I’ll have to get back, nice to have met you.” Cas opens the door again.
Ding-a-ling.
“The Ripper sir?”
“Yes.”
“Is he the ‘orrible looking feller, dressed in a jacket as black as pitch but with eyes that glow like red hot embers. The gent that goes in before the rise ‘o’ the sun, and don’t come out again until the moon reaches well into the sky…”
Ding-a-ling.
“Yes, that might be him, anything you can tell me about him?”
“He lives over there.”
Blackburn points into the darkness.
“Near the Inn, the old Ten Bells, over there.”
Blackburn points again.
“In the sewers, I think- good luck to you sir.”
Blackburn heads out to the backroom.
Ding-a-ling.
Twenty minutes the later the Gang are all together; they descend into the sewer, armed with Cas’ new information, in search of the ‘orrible looking feller.
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Turn 57: “Did Black Alley Clah send you?”
Cas nods at Newt, the Gnome grins and scurries in.
Slick iron rungs driven into the brick wall lead from the street onto a walkway flanking an open sewer channel. The stench is particularly foul here, inciting Newt’s lungs and stomach to rise in open rebellion, he throws up.
“Is it safe?” Cas shouts down.
Newt wipes his mouth, “yep.”
They Gang make their way down, Anya slips on the ladder but is caught in the nick of time by Cas.
“Thanks.” She winks at the Paladin, who grins back awkwardly.
Jim looks a little put out.
“Which way?” Ala breaks the deadlock.
“There’s no blood trail- this way.”
Jim heads off north.
They’ve gone twenty feet.
“Hey, there’s a door.” Newt points to the spot, and then crouches down to get to work, “It’s locked.”
And a minute later its not, the Gnome budges aside, Cas steps in, wrenches the door open.
A trio of filthy ragged ne’er-do-wells sit around a squat table playing cards and seeking comfort in a bottle of rotgut. All three look mean and ill-tempered, hardened by the harshness of life in The Nunny. A single barrel marked “grog” sits against a wall, but otherwise the room is empty.
The largest of the thugs, a menacing individual with a pock-marked face, rises from the chair and casually sweeps back his cloak to reveal a wicked blade hidden beneath. He walks slowly and unsteadily towards Casimir. Though his eyes are bloodshot, Cas can smell the spirits on him, his speech is clear.
“Did Back Alley Clah send you?” He asks with a sneer. “You can tell your boss that if he doesn’t like the way we do our trade, he can hire someone else to break bones for ‘im.”
Cas looks a little confused.
“Actually I’m Casimir La Frond, Paladin of the Church of Pelor, we’re…”
Newt nudges Cas in the ribs, the Paladin thinks about things a moment.
“Oh hang on, can we start again?” Cas tries.
The Thug shakes his head, also a little confused by the sudden turn of events.
“Oh, ok. In that case I’m arresting you in the name of the Church of Pelor.”
Thurlo, the big Thug, is lightning fast, grabs out his blade and stabs Cas in the gut.
“Oh bugger.” Cas pushes his way into the room, his momentum driving Thurlo back.
Ala hits the Bless spell as the two Thugs at the table leap up, back off, and fumble out throwing daggers, both the blades spiral towards the Paladin, clatter into his armour and bounce away.
“Pelor save me.” The Paladin squeaks.
Thurlo swings again, Cas’ shield blocks the blow, he pushes Thurlo further back into chamber.
“Surrender or die?” Cas offers.
“EXPLETIVE DELETED.” Thurlo considers Cas’ offer and politely declines.
Anya casts Mage Armour on herself, as Bec wades into the chamber swinging, burying his longsword into Thurlo’s shoulder, the Thug screams and staggers back. Jim dives into the chamber and grabs his bow, notches an arrow.
Ala waits in the doorway, grabs her bow out too, and readies a shot.
Meanwhile Vik and Sharktooth, the other two Thugs, charge into the melee, Sharktooth stabs Anya in the side with his shortsword, the Wizard struggles, fails to cast her spell, winces horribly and tries to back out of the fight, she really shouldn’t be here.
Newt sees it all.
“ANYAAAAAA.”
The Gnome lifts his little crossbow and, point blank range, fires it into Sharktooth’s head, it gets messy very quickly- think of melon’s exploding, Sharktooth is very, very, very dead.
Thurlo screams and charges back at Cas, who parries his blow but can’t get an attack in. Jim watches this, still scanning the arena looking for a clear shot.
“Feck this.”
The Ranger throws down his bow, grabs out his Battleaxe and goes over to help Anya.
Bec meanwhile wades into Thurlo, who’s still keeping Cas at bay, he slices again, rips into the Thug’s side.
Ala follows Jim’s lead, fumbles out her longsword, but stays put in the doorway. Vik swings towards her, she defends herself, keeps the Thug at bay.
“Smidgin.”
Anya fires a Magic Missile into Thurlo, the Thug roars his defiance.
Newt turns his sights on Vik, fires again, his crossbow bolt smashes into the Thugs leg, crippling him for life. Jim dives across as the Thug folds, smashes his battleaxe into Vik, the Thug flops to the floor- dead.
Thurlo stands alone, the fighting stops for a second.
“Ok, I surrender.”
POP
Too late, Bec takes Thurlo’s head off, it spirals across the room as the Thug’s body folds to the floor.
“BUFFET.” Bec seethes.
“Who are these guys?” Ala enquires.
“Were these guys?” Newt corrects Ala.
“Pelor knows, search them.”
Ten minutes later, none the wiser, and only a little bit richer the Goodman Gang, after a touch of healing courtesy of Ala head on.
There are two possible exits, both rotten wooden doors, one east, one south. Cas leads them on, east, down a stinking wet passage to another door, this one barred.
Cas stands aside, the Gnome dives in, the passage continues south to yet another door.
The Gnome gets to work, no traps, the bar off the door, there’s a rather complicated lock, “nice”, Newt rubs his hands with glee.
It takes two minutes and he’s in, Cas pushes past the Gnome, into a cell, there’s a skeleton on the floor. He stirs the bones with his longsword, nothing happens.
“Next.”
The Gnome skips ahead a little to the next door, checks it.
“Damn.”
“What is it Newt?” Jim asks.
“It’s open.”
Newt pushes the door open; a single flickering candle stirs in the breeze, shadows dance across the walls of the small room. Simple wooden bunks, six in total and covered in tattered and soiled bedding, take up most of the chamber. A feverish moan rises from one of the farther beds, the plaintive cry of someone clearly in pain.
Ala and Cas cross the room quickly, shivering in the bed is a filthy looking Thug clutching his blanket to him.
“Filth Fever.” Ala states.
“Can you heal him?” Cas asks.
“In time.” Ala replies.
“We’ll come back for him, do what you can to make him comfortable.”
Ala sets to work.
There’s another door in the chamber, it leads to a small room, not much larger than a closet, inside are stacked half-a-dozen crates and barrels, it’s a storeroom.
“He’ll sleep now.” Ala calls over
“Right, out of here, back to that other door.” Cas takes charge.
They file out following the Paladin, except for Newt who’s spotted something on the floor of the storeroom, a small tobacco pouch, when the others have gone he picks it up, sniffs it- Bitter Root, a narcotic, he hides his stash and catches up with the others.
The Goodman Gang return to the former home of the Thugs, and settle before the door south, it’s not locked, Cas opens it and enters, it’s a dead end.
“Hang on your Lordship.”
Newt scurries past the Paladin.
TUG
The wall ahead swings forward and into the dark chamber beyond, they bring light.
They’re in a cellar, the air is cool and damp, the smell of wet earth. Barrels are stacked in front of them; Cas gingerly clears a path through. The far wall is occupied by a wine-rack sagging under the weight of age. A set of wooden stairs lead up into a corner of shadowy light.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrggggggggggggggggggghhh.”
A guttural scream, bitten off, a woman’s voice.
It comes from up the stairs.
Cas and Ala share a look, hers terror, his intrigue- the Paladin truly knows no fear. He shrugs and sprints for the steps, then up them, two, and when he can manage it, three at a time. The others trail behind.
And into the bar room of the Ten Bells Inn, at one time it must have been a comfortable, if decidedly lower-class tavern. The original brick and flint walls, ancient floors, old beams, and aged furnishings and tables are reminiscent of an earlier age, a time when patrons by the dozens would have drunk themselves into rowdy stupors within.
The room is eerily silent; the only patron left a frighteningly large rat which scurries into the fireplace in response to their intrusion.
“Who screamed?” Cas asks.
“Not me.” Ala states, breathing hard, “yet.” She whispers under her breath.
They stand and stare.
“I hate rats.” Bec whispers. Anya hears him, nods to herself.
“They’ve gone.” Cas turns round to face his companions.
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Turn 58: Seeing is Believing.
Jim spots the Dire Rat as it tip-toes out of the chimney towards the fallen Paladin
“Oh no you don’t.”
An arrow flies, thumps into the creature which totters a moment then expires.
The silence returns, enfolds the room.
“Geeeeeet Ouuuuut.”
The voice fading, almost an inaudible whisper, it seems to come from… nowhere, and everywhere.
“Search the place- carefully.” Cas is quick to his feet, a little blood from his nose, but nothing serious.
The room’s furnishings crumble when touched, the windows are boarded up, and it’s all in shadow. There’s a door to the east, three more evenly spaced on the south wall, and a set of rickety looking wooden stairs heading up.
They start with the door to the east, its stuck fast, Bec applies his shoulder, the portal breaks on his first attempt, the giant man scatters into an alley, and they’re back outside, in the warren that is The Nunny.
“Pull it shut but make sure it’s not stuck again- that’s the emergency exit, should we need it.” Cas states, Bec nods and does as he’s told.
Newt completes his circuit, reports back.
“There’s no noises coming from any of the doors, there’s also a concealed door over on the western wall. What now your Lordship?” The Gnome bows and winks.
“So where is the voice coming from?” Ala asks.
“It could be a Ghost.” Cas offers and then thinks about the statement for a while.
The others join him in thought, stand statue, scan the room again.
“Who’s ghost?” Anya asks.
Cas shrugs, it’s his best guess. “Newt, the concealed door please.”
Thirty seconds later, with the Gnomes help, Cas locates and opens the previously hidden door.
As the door swings open, an overwhelming aura of evil fills the air, so vile in its intensity that Newt and the others, but not Cas, are almost overcome by it, their stomachs threaten revolt. The hairs stand up on the back of their necks, Ala shivers.
“Creepy.” Cas attempts a smile, it comes out all wrong, he enters the tiny chamber beyond.
Malice pervades the tiny, sparsely furnished, room. A simple cot, devoid of blankets or sheets, stands against one wall, its mattress savaged by deep cuts and stained rust-brown with long-dried blood. A small table is pressed against the wall beside the only window; a fireplace stands cold and lifeless. A cheap print, faded with age, hangs over the fireplace, beside it a small cupboard. The walls and floors are stained with a combination of blood and other unidentifiable filth. A sound of scampering feet as numerous rodents scatter for cover, a flash of movement out of the corner of their eyes the rats disappear.
And then the darkness suddenly descends.
“What…” Ala begins.
Only to be replaced by a woman’s face.
Even Cas flinches, so sudden is the vision.
The face suddenly grimaces and turns away, then fades out of existence.
Darkness engulfs the gang again.
“I don’t like this.” Ala simply states.
To silence.
KNOCK KNOCK
Which makes nearly everyone jump.
Cas is quickly to the door, presses himself against it, turns back to his companions and places a finger over his lips, signals for silence.
“Who’s there?”
“Father.”
“Father who?”
Newt giggles.
“It’s Father Whiskin, Casimir, can I come in, it’s bloody freezing out here, and dangerous.”
The Paladin opens the door, the Dwarvern Priest tromps in.
“I thought you’d be here, I talked to Blackburn at the Bakery, nice man- gave me these for you.”
The good Father hands over a bag of bread and cakes; which is eagerly accepted.
“Well, Old Soloman had quite a story to tell, is there somewhere a little less…” The Priest takes a look around the room, “what’s the word, terrifying, that’s it- we can sit.”
The Gang head back into the bar of the Ten Bells Inn, except for Newt, who follows them out in a moment, and with news.
“Cas.” Newt says while stuffing a French Fancy into his mouth.
“Yes.”
“There’s no rat holes in that place.” Newt motions over his shoulder to the room they’ve just vacated, “and no rats.”
“Odd.” The Paladin simply states.
“Ghost rats.” Anya offers.
Bec shivers.
They settle down to hear Father Whiskin’s story.
“It was called the Autumn of Terror, for two months the Ripper terrorised The Nunny, as he went about butchering and mutilating five women, all prostitutes. However, it wasn’t the identity of the victims that horrified the inhabitants of The Nunny, this place has long been used to violence and death, but rather it was the brutal manner in which the killings were conducted.”
Father Whiskin settles back, he seems to have got his audiences attention; this is after all the ideal place to be telling a ghost story.
“These women were not merely murdered they were mutilated in a way so terrible that many felt it was impossible for a man to have perpetrated the crimes.
The reign of terror began on the evening of the 31st of August, 125 years ago, a Watchman happened upon a woman stretched out on the cobblestones. Even in the feeble light of his lantern, the Ripper’s handiwork was plainly visible.”
Ala swallows hard, searches out and finds Cas’ hand, he reacts, smiles back at her, reassuring.
“As horrible as that first murder scene was it was just the first of many that would present themselves to the Watch over the ensuing weeks, each one progressively worse than the last. The Ripper must have found his prey easy targets, like apples ripe for the picking. The women called out to him, too eager to venture into the dark nightmare alleys where they worked their trade. Investigators, meanwhile, found themselves unable to put paid to the murderous spree, not to hold back the rising tide of panic that was building, here within The Nunny.”
Father Whiskin stops, looks around him, the others follow suit, checking every shadow, then continues.
“Worse the Ripper taunted his pursuers, leaving tantalising clues that only served to befuddle the red-faced investigators. He was laughing at them, hidden behind the dark shroud of his anonymity.”
Father Whiskin looks around the room, shadows lengthen.
“But no one could have known that the first four murders in the Ripper’s rampage of terror had been little more than the overture to his grotesque finale…”
Ala drops her iced-bun.
“Mari Kell would be his fifth and final victim, his deadly masterpiece. Certainly there’s is nothing Mari Kell could have done in her all too brief life to warrant such a death.
Witnesses at the time reported seeing Kell escort a male patron into her room, at a hostelry called the… Ten Bells Inn.”
Squeak
Bec turns, he’s the only one to have heard the noise, a chair has moved a little away from a table, as if someone had wanted to sit there.
The other members of the Gang swallow hard and scan the room yet again.
“That was in the early hours, after midnight, and there away from the traffic and bustle of the city of Grimbo, the Ripper could afford to work slowly; he took his time with Mari.
And when at last he had finished his work Mari Kell’s corpse had been mutilated almost beyond recognition. The defilement of her young body was so complete, so savage, that it could have only been the work of a man borne of the depths of Hell.”
Bec looks behind him again, nothing.
“After this slaying, the Ripper disappeared, into the mists of Grimbo forever. However, it is said, Mari Kell, or more properly her tormented spirit, could not so easily slip away. The mists of the afterlife would not, could not, completely enshroud her, and she remained here…”
Father Whiskin looks about him.
“In The Nunny, in the Ten Bells Inn.”
Ala gulps, Cas squeezes her hand.
“I think we’ve met her.” The Paladin offers.
“What?” Father Whiskin stares at Cas.
“Mari, she’s still here, she haunts this place still- I can feel her, all about us, she’s here. Now.”
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Turn 59: The Investigation continues…
“Well I’d better get going, leave you to it.” Father Whiskin takes one last look around the bar and then heads out the way he came, “good luck.”
“Well that was a lovely story.” Anya volunteers.
“Cheery.” Jim agrees.
“OK, rest time over, time to get on.” Cas is up and at them.
“Newt, that door please.” Cas points to the door furthest away from where they sit on the southern wall.
“Yes, boss.” And over he goes.
Twenty seconds later, the Paladin opens the door into a filthy room, still and silent, a hearth on the west wall cold and sooty. Several jagged, rusty knives are plunged into a foully stained table. The nauseating stench of rot washes over the Gang.
“Pelor.” Cas blinks hard, his eyes are watering.
Cas, Newt, Anya and Bec head in, look around, see what they can see.
SPRUNG
One of the knives is yanked from the table by an invisible hand, and before Cas can react, is plunged into the Paladin’s shoulder.
“We mean you no harm spirit.” Cas addresses the fireplace, the walls, the ceiling- looking anywhere.
Bec reacts quickly and snatches up all the other knives embedded in the table, as he places his hand down to yank the last one free of the table he suddenly pulls back, somebody with small hands has already got a firm grip on the handle of the last knife. He looks around, and then grabs the last blade.
“We are here to rid Grimbo of the Ripper… Here to help you, if we can.” Cas’ voice trails off.
Nothing happens for a while.
“Let’s try next door”, Jim offers still outside of the room, an observer.
Newt examines the next door, declares it safe and lets the Paladin in.
The floor of this small room is covered in dust, the air is stale, and dense cobwebs hang from the rafters like a funeral shroud. A few old crates and barrels lie scattered about the room, one of which is covered by a dark shivering blanket which seems to shy from the adventurers light.
Newt pulls Cas back, shakes his head, and tosses a sunrod into the chamber.
Everyone gasps and takes a step back; the motioning blanket is a mass of spiderlings in their web.
“Thanks Newt, that was…”
A Spider leaps from its hideaway on the ceiling and lands on Cas’ chest, about to plunge it’s fangs into the suddenly flailing Paladin, the Spider’s abdomen is coloured yellow, white and black; a clear warning of the potency of its poison.
Cas reacts in time and bats the thing off him with his shield, continues staggering backwards to get clear.
“Cas.”
Ala charges in, smashes her longsword down, the Spider scuttles aside at the last moment, which results in Ala burying her longsword a good ten inches into the floorboards of the bar, it holds, she tries desperately to pull it free.
THUNK
A second spider leaps from the room and onto the Priestess’ back; it sinks its fangs into the nape of Ala’s neck, a fiery poison courses into her, she grits her teeth, clenches every muscle as she spasms, the worst is soon over, she relaxes, and then feels the Spider on her back move again, reposition itself for another attack.
FWUNG
A crossbow bolt thumps into the Spiders abdomen, the force of the bolt knocking the creature off Ala’s back and sending it bowling into a corner of the bar. Jim’s arrow thumps into the floor there, missing by inches.
“BUFFFFFET.”
Bec charges over as the beast attempts to right itself, he smashes the arachnid to pieces.
Meanwhile Cas and Anya, armed with her staff, attack the first Spider, the creature is too fast, it skitters under tables, then up a wall and back onto the ceiling.
The Goodman Gang scatter, take evasive action, except for Ala who’s still a little shaken, the Spider leaps down, and onto the Priestesses arm, and before she can react sinks its fangs into her, Ala flails wildly trying to get the thing to let go.
Her mad circling prevents the other members of the Gang getting too her, she settles the dispute, quick draws a dagger with her free hand and plunges the blade into the Spider’s body- dead.
“How do you feel?” Cas sympathises.
“Bloody terrified.” She replies.
“I mean are you poisoned, they looked… dangerous.” Cas points to the Spiders colourful markings.
“Particularly close-up” Ala confirms, “I’m alright though… Thanks.”
Ala tends to herself, Newt shuts the door, the spiderlings can stay, the Gang are not going back in there.
Two minutes later Cas opens the last door on the southern wall, the room beyond seems to have been the private office of the tavern proprietor, furnished with a desk and chair against the wall to the right, a flimsy bookshelf lined with mildewed papers and record books, and an overstuffed couch. Another heavy blanket of dust and shrouds of cobwebs lie over everything, giving the chamber a ghostly, ominous appearance.
The Gang move in, more cautiously than before, nothing leaps, jumps, crawls or just plain bites.
“Right, let’s take a look through the books, Newt give the place the once over, check everything- Jim and Bec keep an eye on him.”
Plan hatched they get to work; Newt even manages to salute the Paladin.
Ten minutes later, nearly all the books are beyond salvage, just rotten pulp, Anya however has discovered a little more information.
“The owner was called Crofter, Henry Crofter, and it seems he made his money as a fence rather than a landlord, there’s one other oddity, it seems someone was paying him 100 GP/month for, ‘storage’, that’s quite a lot.”
“Does it say who?” Jim asks.
“Nope, hang on there’s an initial here, I.R., not a lot to go on, anyway not our problem really.”
“Ok, let’s get going…” Cas interjects.
“Hang on.” Newt taps the wall, feels about the place for a second, the panel in front of him slides aside, revealing a frail-looking staircase that ascends into darkness.
“A voila.” Newt bows before the Paladin, who places his foot on the first step of the stair, it groans.
“It really doesn’t look safe, we’ll come back to it, we’ll use the other stairs; try to find where this one comes out when we’re up there- ok?”
Newt nods and touches his forelock.
Cas leads them off again, back into the bar and up the stairs to the first floor of the Inn, and into a passageway with over half-a-dozen doors leading from it.
Aging floorboards, worn thin in the middle over decades of passage, creak eerily underfoot as Cas leads them on. Dust covers the floor, cheap paintings adorn the walls, a hooded lantern hangs idle from the ceiling in the corridor.
“That one.” Cas finds himself whispering, and pointing at the first door on the right, Newt nods heads over, and places his ear against the door.
“Squeaking- rats?” he whispers back.
Cas nods, the others follow his lead, they position themselves, as best they can in the cramped passage, around the door, ready… Cas kicks it in.
The only items in this room are thin, mouldy mattresses thrown upon the cold wooden floor. The room itself is musty and dark, illuminated only by a single claw-like beam of moonlight that reaches through a crack in the boarded-up window. There is a bitter scent in the humid air; a black tar like substance litters the floor.
Suddenly cacophonies of high-pitched squeaks, a mass of vicious-looking bats form a black tarp that stretches across the entire ceiling. The morbid creatures eye the adventurers with unusual interest, heads swivelling to watch, then as one, decision made- swarm.
FLING THUMP
Newt reacts with lightning speed hurls a sunrod into the chamber, which explodes with light, and then slams the door shut.
The squeaking reaches fever pitch, and is accompanied by a series of dull thuds as the bats explore their fury, and as soon as possible locate the exit.
Newt folds his arms, chews a nail and waits out the storm.
The others grin down at the Gnome, offer pats and caresses.
“Cas, look.” Ala points.
Along the hall there’s a trapdoor in the ceiling.
“The attic, we’ll clear these first- good work.”
Ala nods and smiles.
Thirty seconds later, when the squeaking and thumping is finally at an end, Newt gingerly opens the door again, espies that the room is now empty and takes a cursory look, cursory because the floor of the chamber is covered in a thick carpet of bat guano.
“Nah.” The Gnome declares, and heads back out.
Cas indicates the next door to be tried, this one the first on the left-hand wall, Newt sets to work again, no traps, no locks, no sound, it’s over to the Paladin.
Cas opens the door to a comfortably furnished room, with bed, closet, wash stand with basin, and a desk. There’s an uneasy aura clinging to the air here, an unnatural chill that hints of evil. Cas stops dead in his tracks, then looks behind him, his compatriots can feel it too.
“Don’t be frightened, there’s nothing in here, whatever was here has gone now, it’s just a memory.” Cas smiles back at the others, “it’s ok.”
The feeling of dread passes, the others slowly relax.
“We’ll search the place, Bec and Ala keep an eye out.”
“Well here’s where those stairs come up, you’re right, they look rotten.” Jim states, and sure enough this is the spot the secret stairs from below exit.
“From Potters Field.” Anya states.
“What?” Jim asks, truning to look.
“It’s a ghost book, or rather a book about ghosts.” Anya shows the group the book she’s found, “it’d take a while to read- see if there’s any clues in here.”
“And here we go.” Newt has moved the desk, found the secret panel in the wall, and then opened it- inside is another dusty tome. “Henry Crofter’s Diary.”
“Good work.” Anya’s over to the Gnome, she takes the book, flicks through its pages- nothing springs out. “I’ll need some time to check these out.”
“I think we should clear this area first, and possibly the attic, make it safe- I don’t want to be caught in here if I can help it, I don’t trust those stairs and I’m not going out of the window.”
“Makes sense.” Ala offers.
The others nod, they press on.
But before they go Cas turns to them, “I’m convinced this place is haunted, the spirit of Mari Kell is not at rest, be careful as you go.”
Cas indicates to Newt the next door on the left-hand wall, Newt does his stuff, stands aside for Cas.
The door is stiff, it resists Cas’ tug, swollen in the frame, the Paladin cautiously applies his shoulder, it comes open causing Cas to stumble into the chamber beyond, which is what he was trying not to do.
Fortunately it’s just a closet, a walk-in supply room, Stacks of yellowed and mouldy linens, boxes of rat-chewed candles, and moth-eaten pillows line the shelves. A dark discolouration on the ceiling suggests water, or perhaps some other liquid, has fouled the closet.
“It’s only…” And that’s as far as Cas gets- the door slams shut again, the Paladin’s in the dark.
In the same instant the trapdoor in the passageway slams open, which gets the attention of the other members of the Goodman Gang.
Inside the closet Cas squirms, there’s something in here with him, he can feel it, grasping at his legs, strange, not hands, something with a lighter touch, whatever it is it’s trying to wind itself around him, smother him.
“GET ME OUT OF HERE.” He screams.
Back in the passageway the woman’s voice comes again.
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Turn 60: White as a sheet.
“Bec get that door open.” Newt takes charge.
Anya and Jim rush down the passageway to the trapdoor, which slams back up as they approach, out of reach.
Inside the closet, whatever it is that is grappling Cas is winding its way up his torso, he struggles to prevent it doing so, dropping his sword and shield in the process.
“GET ME OUT.”
Bec tries to wrench the door open, to no avail, it’s stuck.
“Smash it.” Newt gasps.
The hulking Barbarian rams his shoulder into the portal, with instant results; the door is flung open, revealing Cas, as white as a ghost and half entwined by one of the sheets from the linen closet.
“It’s only…” Newt starts and then realises that the sheet is aiming to smother the Paladin, “Bec.” The Gnome calls.
The Barbarian grabs hold of Cas, drags him into the passageway, then begins to wrench the sheet off him, the Paladin struggles, helps the Barbarian to get him free.
Further down the passage the attic trapdoor bangs open again.
Then slams shut again, leaving Jim and Anya shaking where they stand.
At last the sheet is off Cas, being held at bay by the Paladin and the Barbarian, it twists and turns in their hands, trying to escape.
“Stab it.” The Paladin demands.
The sheet attempts to coil and flex, escape its captors.
Newt stabs his blade into the linen, it bleeds, great gouts of dark red blood.
The sheet struggles violently, pulls itself free from Cas’ grasp, then as quickly, wraps itself around the Paladin’s throat, choking the life out of Cas.
“Rip it.” Cas wheezes.
Newt stabs again, more blood gushes out, while Bec lifts the linen above his head, the massive muscles on his arms bulge and pop.
TEAAAAAAAR
He rips the thing in two, and is caught in the waterfall of blood that spills from the rent creature.
Cas breathes again.
The silence returns, except at the end of the passageway, where Jim and Anya stare up at the trapdoor, they can hear footsteps.
“Cas.” No reply.
“Cas.” Jim states again, “there’s something upstairs.”
They all stop to listen.
Silence.
“Let’s get out of here?” Ala pleads.
“No, we finish what we started.” Cas motions towards the next door, looks pointedly at Newt.
Newt looks at his compatriots, then makes his decision, moves to the next door, the third on the left-hand wall, he gets to work.
And twenty seconds later moves away to allow the Paladin to open the portal.
The door opens to reveal a bedroom which looks like it was last occupied by blissful newlyweds. A large double bed draped with white fabric that has yellowed with age, a dust-shrouded night stand supports a glass vase filled with dried roses, a slender silver ring sits atop a silk pillow. Across the room stands a wardrobe, its doors open to reveal a collection of women’s clothes, all simple but not unattractive.
It looks as though the wedding night may not have ended happily. The bride, still dressed in her finery, the fabric clinging to her skeletal frame, reclines lifeless upon the bed.
“Careful.” Cas states the obvious and moves into the chamber, “Ala check the corpse is not undead.”
Ala whispers a short prayer and then goes over to examine the corpse bride; she soon has something to report.
“The body has been exhumed.”
“What?” Newt’s confused.
“Dug up. She was killed… murdered, it must have been terrible.” Ala concludes.
“She’s one of the original victims… of the Ripper.” Cas states.
Newt moves over to the bed.
“Newt don’t…” Cas starts, the Gnome grabs the ring.
The Skeleton Bride’s jaws instantly clack open, as if about utter a terrible cry of anguish, a hazy creature rushes out, at first no more than a puff of dust, it quickly takes the shape of a beautiful young woman, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a flawless pale complexion. The spirit is wearing a black dress, the only dash of colour being a red shawl pulled tight over her shoulders as if to ward off the biting cold.
“YOOOOOUUUUU MMMMMUUUUUUSSSSTTTT DDDDD…”
“Newt put it back.” Cas shouts.
The Gnome darts a hand out and replaces the ring in an instant, shuffles backwards, clearly terrified.
“MARI… It’s Mari Kell isn’t it?” Cas stares at the apparition.
“We mean you no harm. We want to help you… if we can. Please, please let us.”
The Ghost of Mari Kell hovers over her corpse, unmoving.
“Tell us what we must do to lay your spirit to rest, we will do it if we can.”
Mari Kell reaches down, cautious, touches Ala’s cheek, which is tear streaked.
“All men must die because of what they did to me.” Mari whispers.
“We didn’t do this. We’re not here to harm you; we want to put things right- like you do… Please help us Mari Kell.”
Silence, the spirit of Mari Kell looks solemnly at Cas, weighing each and every one of the Paladin’s words.
“Gooooo Innnnn Peeeaaaaccceee.”
Mari Kell disappears.
“Leave the ring Newt, leave it.” Cas warns.
“KILLLLL HIIIMMM. KIIIIILLLL THE RIPPPPPEEEEERRRRRRRR. NOOOO MOOOORRREEEE WOOOMMEEENNNN MMMUUUSSSSTTTT DDDIIIEEEE.”
“We will Mari, we will, on this night, I swear to you.”
The entire building seems to settle, the sense of dread is lifted, nothing happens, except perhaps the Goodman Gang relax for the first time.
“Search the rest of the rooms.” Ala states, “We’ll find this bastard.”
The rest of the floor is soon searched, with no mishaps, and nothing of interest found, the other rooms are nothing more than empty guest rooms, all ravaged by time but otherwise unspectacular.
“The attic.” Cas points up, “take it easy Newt, there may be somebody up there.”
Bec grabs hold of the Gnome and boosts him into the air, to the trapdoor, Newt gets to work, and soon after declares its clear, the Gnome lifts the trapdoor up, shines a sunrod into the gloom.
Newt feels a stiff cool breeze on his face. His eyes adjust to the light, he spies a low-ceilinged attic filled with boxes. Suddenly he swivels, hears a rustling sound coming from a shadowy recess.
Newt waits a moment. The sound stops.
“Who… Who’s there?”
“Ewan, it’s Ewan- please help me.”
“Are you the Ripper?” Newt whispers.
Silence.
“The who?”
Ewan struggles into the light, he’s a dishevelled looking individual, about forty years of age, human, his eyes are perfect white orbs.
“Help me, help me please, I’m blind… I… I saw a ghost.”
Ewan staggers towards the sound of Newt’s voice.
“Get him down Newt, carefully.”
And twenty minutes later the tale of Ewan Treborne has been told, a scam artist forced to flee when a trick went badly wrong, hiding up in the attic after crossing a number of roofs, choosing this one because of the trapdoor in the roof. He’s not the Ripper, harmless and tearful, definitely not a killer.
Newt is sent back up into the attic, and there makes a grizzly discovery, just below the trapdoor leading onto the roof is the crumpled and mutilated corpse of a woman, she lies in a pool of her own blood. Her body has been savaged by numerous deep cuts; her right arm is slightly detached from the body, neatly severed by a single stroke. A similar wound to the neck has almost decapitated the head from the torso. The abdominal cavity is empty, its contents heaped in a pile nearby. Her face is hacked beyond recognition. Whoever did this was certainly possessed by an unnatural rage, and was extremely powerful.
Newt voids his stomach, till there’s nothing left to bring up, Newt smartens himself up and then heads back to the trapdoor.
“Cas.”
“What is it Newt?”
“You need to come and see this.”
Ten minutes later, most of the Gang have been up to take a look, the adventurers reassemble in the passageway.
“We’ve been top to bottom.” Ala states.
“Actually bottom to top.” Cas corrects.
“So… the Ripper’s not here.”
“Maybe we missed something, either way, we start back at the bottom.”
Ala shrugs. “Ok.”
“Besides we’ll put Ewan in with the wounded guy downstairs in the basement. And we’ll come back for the woman upstairs, make sure she gets a proper burial.”
And so they do, checking as they go, back into the cellar where they first heard Mari scream.
And it’s there that Jim notices a set of heavy footprints, much larger than a humans, easily discernable in the wet earth, they stop at the south wall.
“It’s a secret door.” Newt confirms, “exactly opposite the one we came through into this place.” Newt scolds himself, “Stupid.”
“We’ve found it now, get ready.” Cas draws his longsword.
As I recall there's quite a few bait-and-switch ploys in this adventure, the last one rather random. Your established setting of the mean streets of Grimbo fits the background of this one quite well.
Atmospheric stuff, the last installment but one even managed to give me nightmares!
__________________ New from The Lazy GM: Savage Creatures. 40 monsters, hundreds of stat blocks. The Lazy GM Series. Pre-generated monster stats for the discerning adventurer. The World of Conclave. Innovative (and free) webworld for d20.
As I recall there's quite a few bait-and-switch ploys in this adventure, the last one rather random. Your established setting of the mean streets of Grimbo fits the background of this one quite well.
Atmospheric stuff, the last installment but one even managed to give me nightmares!
Blimey, my players usually give me nightmares, not this lot but the Lost Boys- I dreamt I was being chased through the Sunless Citadel by them once, terrifying. They we're dressed in character, I didn't sleep a wink for the rest of the night.
Thanks Dr. S.
And so-
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Turn 61: The Ripper.
The Gang head through into a short corridor, a closed door on the left, an archway leading into a chamber twenty or so feet ahead.
“I can feel it, we’re near the end.” Cas states.
Anya nods, mutters arcane words, starting her protection spells. Ala shuffles behind the front line, casting healing spells, ensuring everyone is in peek condition.
“The door first.” Cas states.
Newt does his stuff and then signals for the Paladin to take over.
The door opens to reveal a rectangular chamber with a recessed antechamber to the side. Etched into the stone floor is a crude pentagram surrounded by various sinister looking arcane symbols. Tall candelabras line the outer portion of the room, but their tallow candles are cold and unlit.
The antechamber was obviously a laboratory and study at one time. On a bench lie various jars, rolled parchments, a human skull, a ritualistic dagger, and bottles filled with discoloured liquids. Lying slumped in a chair behind the bench, arms thrown over its face in terror and body twisted in obvious agony, is a skeletal figure. It’s clear it died in a horrible fashion, probably many decades ago.
Cas steps back out of the chamber, barring the way in to the others, “leave it, this is not the place, there is only evil and despair here, it’s the other way, onwards.” Cas points to the archway ahead, which seems to be filled with a ruby mist.
“Can’t we just take a look?” Newt ducks under Cas’ arm.
“Newt. Don’t go in the pentagram, the symbol on the floor, and don’t touch the skeleton.” Anya calls out.
The Gnome creeps in, across the chamber, grabs what he can from the desk and scurries back to the doorway, carefully avoiding the pentagram.
Ala mutters arcane words; her Detect Magic signals which items within the hoard are magical. Theses are quickly put away, the rest of the junk discarded.
Which only leaves…
A dark crimson mist fills the room through the archway ahead; the mist seems to glow, to swallow up the light that the adventurers bring. The stomach-churning stench of blood hangs heavy in the damp air.
Instinctively the Goodman Gang crouch and shuffle, as quietly as they can, into the chamber.
“It’s…”
“Shhh.”
Cas, in places, can barely see his hand before his face, he looks down at his armour, it’s bloodstained, the mist is indeed blood.
He bumps his toe on something.
“Here.” Cas whispers.
Newt scurries forward, the others congregate, it’s the stone lip of a fountain, the fountain itself takes the shape of a leering skeletal dragon. The liquid in the pool surrounding is blood too, chunks of flesh and viscera float lazily by.
“Feck.” Newt whispers and swallows hard as a human hand surfaces and bobs in the bloody pool.
There’s writing around the base of the fountain, Ala peers through the mist.
“Elven”, she whispers, “it says, ‘The mist that surrounds you shrouds your vision. Prove now that your perception is true, and all will become clear. As the sun rises and falls so too must the dragon’s horn be turned, a number of times equal to the characters in the alphabet.’”
“Eleven.” Anya states.
“How…” Newt asks.
“Eleven, the number of letters in ‘Alphabetico’, the Elven word for alphabet- try it.” Anya’s sure.
“You sure?” Cas asks.
“Probably.” Anya shrugs, “try it Newt.”
Cautiously the Gnome leaps the pool to the base of the skeletal dragon statue, climbs the thing so he can reach up to the horn, goes to turn it.
“Other way.” Anya states.
“What?”
“The sun rises in the east, sets in the west, anti-clockwise.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Newt grins, turns the dragon’s horn through eleven circuits, something clicks, the Gnome scrambles down and leaps back into Bec’s waiting arms.
“Now back out, the mist should clear.” Anya shuffles back the way she came, the others follow.
Back into the corridor.
They wait.
“Get ready.” Jim whispers.
The red mist seems to be clearing.
It takes a while.
And then it’s gone.
It’s a large chamber, it must be fifty feet west to east, beyond the fountain is another circular area, ten feet in diameter, a stone lip surrounds it, an unfamiliar script weaves its way around the inner and outer edge of this circle.
The Goodman Gang pass on, towards the dark archway at the far end of the chamber, except for Ala who suddenly comes to a halt.
“Find me, free me…” A woman’s voice, whispered, soft and gentle, certainly not the voice of Mari Kell.
“Cas…” Ala starts.
“Shhh.” The Paladin cuts the Priestess off.
Ala looks around there’s no one to be seen.
“There’s something ahead”, Cas points to the archway, darkness beyond, “something very Evi…”
His speech is cut off; a figure leaps from the shadow and lands before Cas, the two stare at each for a second, time expands. It’s like staring into the very face of terror. With its ashen pallor and leathery, weathered skin the being looming before Cas has the appearance of a very old, emaciated man. Atop its head rests a redcap, coloured by blood rather than dye, and on its feet a pair of oversized hobnailed iron boots. Its fiery red eyes bore menacingly at the Paladin, conveying such contempt, it’s as if it views pond scum instead of threats to its very existence. The creature moves, as fast as lightning- long, skinny arms, clutched in its claw like hands a pair of glistening sickles, razor sharp.
The Redcap buries both sickles into Cas’ chest, piercing his armour as if it were made of paper rather than hardened steel.
And its stare.
The Paladin flounders, falls back, gasping; his life force leaching away.
Its stare, Cas cannot wrench his eyes free.
The Ripper is unleashed
The Paladin slumps to the floor, mewling like a child, and yet still unable to tear his gaze away.
Newt scuttles backwards, he’s not getting anywhere near this guy, and fires, the bolt flies well wide, maybe something to do with how much his hand is shaking.
“BUFFET.”
Bec steps up to the plate, swings his longsword with all his might, the creature lightning fast snakes out an arm, the blade connects, and bounces away, arm unmarked- not a scratch.
The Redcap grins and beckons the Barbarian forward.
Anya and Jim dive back, flat-footed by this latest turn of events.
Ala rushes to Cas, pumps healing into the stricken Paladin.
“Magic weapons.” The Paladin gasps, and then again, louder this time, “MAGIC WEAPONS.”
A palpable wave of terror crashes through the chamber.
More than half of the adventurers turn away, ready to flee the place.
“Fight it.” Cas shouts and staggers to his feet, “don’t give in.”
The Goodman Gang stand fast.
Bec launches another attack; the Redcap catches his sword in the crook of one of his sickles, diverts the blow aside, then steps in and opens an eight inch wound in the Barbarian’s side.
“Magic weapons Bec.” Jim dives in, past the Barbarian, crashes his axe into the Redcap’s side, the blade cuts deep, and yet the Redcap just grins.
Then screams.
An ululating noise that echoes around the chamber and yet seems to be focussed on Jim, the sound fills the Ranger’s head, he turns away, clutches at his temple, straining desperately to block the noise out his whole being wracked with pain- then, as suddenly, the sound is gone.
Jim turns back to face the creature, hefts his axe back around, smiling thinly at the terror.
Ala reaches forward, around Bec, clutches her hand to the pommel of Bec’s longsword, which momentarily glows.
“Now, kill it.” She whispers.
The Barbarian does as he’s told, parries the Redcaps next attack and then stabs the creature in the gut, it bleeds profusely, and yet continues to smile.
“I bring yew pain.” The Redcap gasps, and smiles some more.
Cas, still fighting to stand, swigs down a healing vial, throws the vessel away once its drained.
Anya dodges hard right, gets a clear sight of the creature, she mutters arcane words, a sudden flash of light explodes before the Redcap, it barely registers the spell, swings again at Bec and Jim, who both manage, just, to block its blows.
At the rear Newt fumbles out a Potion of Spider Climbing, glugs it down, then leaps onto the wall, scurries up and onto the ceiling, well out of harms way.
Bec alas cannot parry the Redcap’s next blow, the creature scores a groove into the hulking Barbarian’s chest, he staggers back, and yet cannot stop himself from staring into the soulless creature’s fiery eyes. Bec feels a rumbling darkness wash over him, he blinks it away, just, and comes up ready again for action.
Bec’s blood boils, a red tide, of his own making washes over him, the Barbarian Rages, swings again and takes a chunk of flesh out of the Redcaps left shoulder, leaving a gaping flapping wound.
The Redcap grimaces.
“Fecking Buffet.” The Barbarian gasps through blood-flecked lips.
Jim follows up the Barbarian’s attack but is brushed aside with ease.
“Fall back; get him out of the doorway.” Cas shouts and pulls Jim back. Bec too is grabbed by Ala, pouring healing into him, he’s dragged backwards so that they can get at the Redcap from all sides.
The Redcap is not frightened in the least; it rushes forward, straight at Bec again, dodges another of the Barbarian’s sword thrusts, but fails to score a hit.
“Feck this- time to die.” Anya seems to have reached her limit, she dodges into the fracas, flanking the creature, and thumps her staff into its unprotected side, it seems to have little if any effect, except perhaps to make the Redcap even angrier.
The creature whirls around with lightning speed, raking both sickles across the Wizard’s chest, she staggers backwards, gasping, blood coursing down her, realises she’s on the very edge of consciousness.
“I…” Anya staggers into a wall and stays there breathing hard, her clothes are matted in her blood, “I…”, she half-collapses.
Newt scurries across the ceiling, above and behind the Redcap.
Fwung.
He misses; the bolt buries itself into the stone floor just to the creature’s rear.
“Damnation.” The Rogue whispers.
This causes the Redcap to smile up at the Gnome, as if he had heard his name, he grins, and giggles and then gets back to the job at hand.
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Turn 62: A fight to the death.
Bec is locked in battle with the Redcap, he cannot tear his eyes away from the creature, yet another dark wave engulfs him, and yet again he shakes it off, comes up swinging. The distraction is enough though, the Redcap buries its sickle into the Barbarian’s arm, Bec fights back, his longsword bites deep into the Redcap’s other shoulder, and yet it fights on, ducks and dodges a low blow from Jim.
Cas sees his opportunity, leaps in and delivers a terrible blow, opening up a three inch deep gash on the Redcap’s forehead, blood fills the creature’s eyes.
The creature slashes back with all its might, over-extends itself, misses as the Paladin dodges back in the nick of time.
Ala quickly moves to Cas’ side, darts in with her magic dagger, anything to mark the creature, it’s too quick however, it twists and turns and dodges aside.
Anya props herself against the wall, swigs a Potion of Healing, it makes little difference, her wounds still pour with blood.
Newt, still on the ceiling, tries again with his crossbow- but with the same effect, the creature seems able to dodge the missiles, even when they’re coming from above and behind him.
The Redcap steps forward again, straight at Bec, ducks the Barbarian’s longsword, then leaps pirouettes and slices opening up a pair of foot long gashes in the Barbarian’s neck and upper chest.
The Barbarian stumbles once, then folds like a deck of cards.
Jim mouths words between gasps, the Redcap turns to stare at the Ranger, holds his gaze, and smiles- a dark wave washes over the Ranger, Jim feels himself melting inside, fading away.
Then for some reason he thinks about his father.
“Bastaaaaaard.”
And the black wave is gone.
Jim crashes his axe into the Redcap’s side.
Cas and Ala dodge forward, double team the creature, it blocks both their blows easily, and yet staggers from the Ranger’s blow. Cas and Ala dodge back away again before the creature can recover.
The Redcap hobbles.
Anya however does not- she leaps up.
“DIIIIIIeeeeeee.”
Rushes at the fiend, and lances her staff into the creature’s knee, it hardly seems to mind, returns the compliment and slashes at the air before her, forcing Anya to hot foot it, stumbling and flailing, back out of the fight.
“Enough.” Newt whispers.
He leaps down from the ceiling and buries all twelve inches of his short sword in the Redcap’s back, a blue lightning engulfs the creature, as the Shocking Grasp stored in the sword takes effect.
The Redcap stiffens.
Sways.
And then stumbles forward, causing Cas and Ala to adopt defensive poses.
It collapses.
Dead.
The Ripper is dead.
Not content Newt stands over the creature’s body, plunges his short sword a dozen more times into the Redcap’s back, till the Gnome’s exhausted.
Done, Newt drops the blade and wanders off.
Ala is quickly to Bec, her healing jolts him awake, it makes her gasp; she feels how close Bec was to death, on the very precipice.
DMs Interlude, after Bec’s rage wore off he dropped to -9 hit points- close.
Bec blinks his eyes, smiles up at Ala.
“He dead?”
Ala nods. The giant man grins and levers himself up.
“Good, I mean ‘buffet.’” The Barbarian grins and carries on the rest of the conversation with Ala with his eyes, clearly grateful- full of life, he twinkles.
They wait a moment, no one saying anything.
Eventually Newt sparks another sunrod and heads into the darkened alcove from which the Redcap came, Cas follows after.
The little chamber chills the heart, there’s an overwhelming sense of pure evil coming from it, hatred so deep, like a bottomless well.
The walls are decorated with crude fetishes crafted from bits of flesh, hair, bone and organs. Stinking viscera is smeared across almost every surface. Simple furnishings fill the room- a chest, a ramshackle table, and a pile of humanoid and animal pelts that seems to act as a bed. In a disorganised array across the tabletop and floor are jars containing preserved organs and a gruesome collection of body parts wrapped in bloody rags. Mixed in with the remains are instruments of terror, all the items one would expect in a well-stocked torture chamber.
“Search everything.” Cas commands.
“Happy to oblige, Captain.”
Although he’s not, Newt gulps, tries to swallow, his lips are dry, his throat too. He gets to work.
Ala moves back to where she heard the whisper, the second circular area.
“Find me, free me…”
It comes again, and this time Anya hears it too.
The Wizard, still clutching at her wounds, moves to the area, she studies the spot- reads the runes, in Draconic, that circle the area.
“To enter or exit the realm of the Undine, speak ‘Descend’ or ‘Ascend’ in the tongue of the builders.”
“What?” Jim asks.
“I fear our adventure is not over yet.”
“What?” Jim tries again.
“It seems we have found an entrance, ‘to the realm of the Undine’, here.” Anya points.
“An Un-what?” Cas wanders over.
“Undine, an Aquatic Elf.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” Newt joins the circle, back from filling his pockets.
“There’s more to this place than meets the eye, first we need to go back and tell them we’ve got the Ripper. Let’s get out of here, I’m not keen on going any further right now, we need to get those men back to the Church of Pelor, and arrange burials for the body in the attic, and for Mari, I only hope somehow this will let her spirit rest.”
The Paladin takes a last look at the bloodied chamber and then leads the rest of the Goodman Gang quickly back the way they came.
I don't know whether it's the intensity of the module or just that you'r really hitting your stride, but the recent updates have been as good as just about anything on these boards.
My one tiny suggestion for improvement is that you put the "DM's interlude" comments in square brackets or a different font, or do them as footnotes, just to separate them from the narrative a bit more.
I don't know whether it's the intensity of the module or just that you'r really hitting your stride, but the recent updates have been as good as just about anything on these boards.
My one tiny suggestion for improvement is that you put the "DM's interlude" comments in square brackets or a different font, or do them as footnotes, just to separate them from the narrative a bit more.
Looking forward to the next instalment.
Why thanks for that, finished work early for the festive season- nothing to do till Jan, so time aplenty for a few more posts.
You are of course right about the DM's Interludes- it shall be done, excellent suggestion.
Merry Christmas
And on we go...
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Turn 63: A secret meeting.
Bec picks up the Grimbo Graph, the local paper, spreads it out on the table, takes another bite of his monstrous sandwich and reads the headlines, and then the story beneath.
“The Ripper is Dead.”
“Last night saw the end to the reign of destruction that has rocked The Nunny community these last few weeks, with the death of the terrible beast The Ripper at the hands of The Goodman Gang, employed to hunt down the murderer by the famous Grimbo City Watch.
Some time in the small hours the brave party members ventured deep into The Nunny, and to the Ten Bells Inn, the haunt of the first Ripper, there the dedicated warriors and wizards battled through traps and fiends to finally destroy the ghoulish beast.
A high ranking member of the Watch informed this reporter that the reign of terror had finally come to an end this morning. He went on to say that the inhabitants of The Nunny were now able to go about their law-abiding business under the guaranteed safety of the City Watch, once again peace reigns in The Nunny.
No members of the Goodman Gang were available for comment, although this reporter managed to secure a few details:-
Lord Casimir La Frond, a Paladin of the Church of Pelor, much loved by both the rich and poor of Grimbo for his good deeds, he may be romantically involved with the Belle of every Ball, Lady Arabella Ross.
Priestess Ala of the Church of Correllon, an emissary of the strange and seductive Elven people.
Jim Bowen a local Woodsman from Lowth, quite a catch, the young man seems to have a way with women and wild animals, his boyish good looks and simple charm able to tame the mightiest of beasts.
Anya’Drea, the beautiful Wizardess, little is known about this enchanting beauty, a hit at Grimbo College, Professor Toomes has high hopes for her.
Beck, a mighty warrior of extremely limited intellect, originally from Grimbo, his past is shrouded in mystery.
And last, but by no-means least, Tadpole, a brave Gnome… ahem Lockpicker.”
Bec reads on, “Tadpole”, the big man whispers and grins, takes another bite of his sandwich. Farmer Giles mooches into the kitchen, looking for something to do.
“Sandwich?” Bec offers, holding up his monstrous construct.
Farmer Giles shakes his head and wanders off again.
Meanwhile Cas and Ala sit opposite Arabella Ross, her father’s huge desk separating them.
“I’m sooooo, sooooo grateful; once again you have come to my rescue Cassy Wassy.” Arabella gushes.
“That’s…” Cas starts.
“And the rest of you of course.” Arabella offers a peremptory nod in Ala’s direction.
Ala nods back, “Thanks.”
Arabella moves around the desk, hitches up her skirt and plonks herself down before the pair, intimidating one, and arousing the other.
A vast expense of leg and thigh fills Cas’ vision.
“That’s… er… fine. Is there anything else we can do?” Cas finds himself saying, much to Ala’s chagrin, she stares at her companion, hard.
“That is…” Cas starts up again.
“It’s funny you should say that… I’d like you to attend a ball I’m holding here this evening, there’s somebody I want you to meet, or rather they would like to meet you, Cassy Wassy.”
“That’d be…” Ala edges into the conversation.
“Alone, of course. Shall we say eight- I’ll send my carriage to the Inn.”
“What…” Ala goes for it again.
“It’s the Wheatsheaf Inn isn’t it, room twelve, the curtains there are awfully thin, otherwise it’s… adequate.”
And that’s it, the interview is over.
Newt makes his way to The Nunny, he’s got some training to undertake. In fact every member of the Goodman Gang, except for the good Paladin, spends some time advancing their skills.
At some point in the week, they decide not to head back to the Ten Bells and the Undine straight away, a member of the Grimbo City watch catches up with the Gang and delivers a small chest packed full of gold coins, one thousand coins in total.
Anya even has time to make good use of Newt’s chemistry set, she spends time and money, prepares a few Potions.
Time passes, particularly slowly for Cas who has nothing to do, except attend a ball with lady Arabella Ross.
And thus it goes.
In his best bib and tucker Cas arrives at the Ross residence, for eight. It’s a swanky affair, the great and the good of Grimbo, mostly those with money to burn.
Arabella looks…
Arabella looks…
She looks…
There isn’t a word, or phrase for that matter, to adequately do justice to how she looks.
And yet for the entire of the evening she sees fit to leave the Paladin alone, he has no friends here, or so he thinks.
And so it comes as quite a surprise when at around midnight the party comes to an end.
Arabella’s not even about to wish him goodbye.
A coach comes to take him home; he’s about a quarter of the way back to the Wheatsheaf Inn when the vehicle suddenly stops, the door opens and Major Khan gets in.
“Hello, Lord La Frond, hope you had a pleasant time this evening?”
“Very nice, now what do you want?” Cas replies.
“First of all I’d like to say thank you for helping us out with the Ripper, much appreciated, we couldn’t have done it with out you.”
“You couldn’t have done it?”
“That said it seems our business has not been concluded, I have a story to tell, and I think you’ll want to hear it.” Major Khan leans back into the shadows of the carriage.
Cas waits a while, “ok, let’s hear it.”
“Beneath the Ten Bells Inn is a prison, a prison for a creature of pure Evil, an Undine, an Aquatic Elf that was captured several centuries ago and entombed alive there. The creature came to Grimbo to destroy the city, although it was nothing more than a very large village then- it, or rather ‘she’, failed- as you can see.” Khan gestures out of the window, and grins.
“That’s interesting, what’s it got to do with me, us?”
“Well, we believe that you are in an ideal position to help us, you have of course found the entrance to the prison…”
“How do you…”
“I sent some Watchmen to the Ten Bells, a small matter, you’d have to stupid to miss it, and your not stupid are you, it would be stupid of me to think so. It of course helps that the Undine seems to be able to alert those close by to her situation, she’s calling for help you see. It’s very probable she has escaped her prison- I would therefore like to hire you and your compatriots to investigate this matter, and more importantly to put an end to the Undine’s threat, believe me it is the people of Grimbo who will suffer should she escape her prison. The people will suffer badly, actually they’ll die in their droves, should she escape.”
Cas thinks about it.
“I’m not stupid Lord La Frond, I know you’re a man of the people, I read the paper.”
“You…”
“Desperate measures Lord La Frond; of course we’ll pay you, 1000 gold coins for the death of the Undine.”
Cas stops to think about it again, takes his time, mulls it over.
“What can you tell me about the Prison?”
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“Nothing, other than it will probably be packed full of traps, and other terrible obstacles… Nothing you can’t handle of course. I read it in the paper so it must be true.”
“Anything else?” Cas asks, disgusted, again.
“One more thing, we’re sending some guards in with you, they’ll protect your back. Make sure nothing dangerous gets out of the Prison… alive.”
Cas stirs in his seat, sits up.
“Probably safest, you’d agree, to seal the Prison behind you.”
The carriage stops.
“Well, enjoy the rest of your evening.”
Cas grabs hold of Major Khan, it could get ugly.
“Do you know what you are?”
Cas pulls the Major in so they’re face to face.
“You’re a spineless, cowardly…”
“There a problem here Major?”
A squad or two of the Grimbo City Watch melt out of the dark and shadow, easily two dozen well armed, and armoured, men.
“No, no problem.” Khan states prising Cas’ hands off of him, he brushes himself down, then heads off into the night.
“G’night Casimir. Sleep well, don’t have nightmares.” And he’s gone.
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Five of the Goodman Gang are up a level, herein their revised stats.
“Jim” Bowen
Human Male Ranger Level 3
NG HP 35 AC 19 Init +2
Str 14 Dex 15 Con 14 Int 12 Wis 12 Ch 10
Saves Fort +6 Ref +5 Will +3
+1 Battleaxe (family heirloom) +6 d8+3
Longbow (Masterwork Mighty (+2)) +7 d8+2 or Rapid Fire +5/+5
Dagger, Silver +5 or +5 d4+2
Armour: Griffin insignia Masterwork Breastplate and Large Masterwork Wooden Shield.
Items of note: Climbers Kit, Wax Balls of Cure Lt x3, Potion Blur, Potion of Cure Moderate, Bracers of Armour +1.
Heavy Warhorse “Kaul” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.
Lord Casimir
Human Male Paladin of Pelor Level 2
LG HP 23 AC 19 Init +1
Str 15 Dex 13 Con 14 Int 14 Wis 11 Ch 14
Saves Fort +7 Ref +3 Will +4
+1 Longsword Cold Iron +5 d8+3
Longbow +3 d8
Light Mace +4 d6+2
Armour: Shiny Breastplate +1 & Sparkling Large Masterwork Steel Shield
Feats: Negotiator, Dodge, Mobility, Detect Evil, Lay on Hands, Divine Health, Smite Evil, Aura of Courage.
Items of note: 3 Flasks of Holy Water, 5 Silver Arrows, Potion of Cure Light Wounds x4, Potion of Vision, Potion of Haste, Healing Kit.
Light Warhorse “Reggie” & associated kit and caboodle.
Anya’Drea
Human Female Wizard Level 3
CG HP 18 AC 15 Init +5
Str 10 Dex 13 Con 12 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 17
Saves Fort +2 Ref +2 Will +3
+1 Quarterstaff +2 d6+1
Light Crossbow Masterwork +3 d8
Dagger Coral Masterwork Keen +2 or +3 d4
Armour: Leather Armour, Ring of Protection +1, Bracers of Armour +1
Items of note: Scrolls- not so many of them as before, Wand of Burning Hands (Level 3- 13 Charges); Potion Cure Lt. x5, Potion of Intelligence, Pearl of Power (lvl 1), Necklace of Fireballs Type I, 2 Bags of Caltrops; 6 Tindertwigs, 10 Sunrods.
“Swish” Animated Broom companion AC15 Mv30 Init+2 +1 Slam d4 Hardness 5 Fort +0 Ref +2 Will -5
Light Warhorse “Mr. Fizz” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.
Newt
Gnome Male Rogue Level 3
NG HP 22 AC 19 Init +3
Str 11 Dex 16 Con 14 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 10
Saves Fort +3 Ref +6 Will +3
Heavy Mace Masterwork +4 d6
Light Crossbow Masterwork +7 d6
+1 Dagger (wielded as Shortsword) of Spell Storing (Shocking Grasp D8+2) +4 D4+1
Adamantine Ceremonial Dagger (wielded as Shortsword) +3 D4
Dagger Masterwork Silver +4 or +7 d3
Armour: +1 Chain Shirt
Feats: Nimble Fingers, Low Light Vision, +1 To Hit vs. Goblinoids and Kobolds, +4 Dodge vs. Giants, Point Blank Shot, Evasion, Rapid Shot.
Skills of note: Alchemy +10 Appraise +5 Balance +8 Climb +5 Craft (Locksmith) +6 Decipher Script +5 Disable Device +10 Escape Artist +4 Forgery +3 Gather Info +3 Hide +11 Intimidate +3 Jump +5 (+35 with Ring of Jumping) Listen +8 Move Silently +9 Open Lock +11 Pick Pocket +4 Read Lips +5 Ride (Pony) +3 Scry +3 Search +9 Spot +6 Tumble +5 Use Rope +3
Items of note: 2 Healer’s Kits, Scroll Protection from Elements, Potion Cure Light Wounds x4, Potion Cure Moderate Wounds, Scroll Hold Person & Deeper Darkness and a few others, Vial of Silversheen.
Light Riding Horse “Slim” & associated kit and caboodle.
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Turn 65: The Key.
And so the night before the Goodman Gang are set to return to the Ten Bells Inn, and into the Undine’s Prison below, Cas makes his own special pilgrimage back to the site. He finds his way in and heads upstairs, back to Mari’s room- the place is still dirty, dilapidated and deserted, it has however lost its sense of dread.
And yet there she is, hovering over the bed exactly where Cas expected her to be.
“It was 125 years ago…” Cas explains, he looks forlorn.
Mari looks away; even in ghost form Cas can see the tears in her eyes.
“I don’t know where to begin, you have to help me, you have to…”
Mari’s spirit shivers, she shakes her head.
“I want to find your killer it was just so long ago, I don’t know where to start, I’m not… I’m not very good at this- you see we’ve only just started, the others, my friends, they’re much better at this than me… I mean, I pretend… I…”
Mari straightens, her spirit form drifts over towards Cas, the Paladin bows his head.
“I will try… I’ll do my best, I just… I just.”
Mari lays her hand on Cas’ head, strokes his hair, tender.
“I’ve waited 125 years… I’ll wait a little while longer.” She whispers.
Cas looks up, into her eyes.
“I have… I have hope, you gave me that, that’ll do… for now.”
Mari Kell releases Cas from her embrace, she begins to fade, Cas reaches out to her.
But she’s gone.
The Paladin cries a little and then heads home to Ala’s warm, and forgiving, embrace.
The next day the Goodman Gang are assembled back in the chamber with the red mist, it’s been cleaned, a little, at least the corpse of the Redcap has gone, it’s lair torched, purged by fire.
“Find me, free me…”
They all hear the voice this time, a coarse whisper, it sounds like waves lapping on a far off shore.
They have a contingent of guards with them, for their own safety of course, twelve guardsmen, and all veterans by the look of them, led by a grouchy old Sergeant by the name of Casper.
“Time fur yew folk to head on down, I reckon.” Casper spits and nods towards the spot, a couple of guardsmen shuffle their weapons to make the point.
“In the tongue of the builders- Dwarves build, how about you try saying it in Dwarf?” Newt states.
And sure enough, thirty seconds later the Gang are descending, the entire raised dais is some sort of mechanical elevator.
It gets dark very quickly.
Sunrods flare.
They’re adventuring again.
The Gang emerge in a hallway; it stretches some twenty or so feet ahead, it’s about three feet deep in water, filthy water, which for Newt is a problem.
“Hey… Hey…” The Gnome doggie paddles trying to stay afloat, Bec scoops Newt up and settles him on his shoulders.
“Now that’s better… Gee up horsey.” Newt points the way, then readies his Potion of Spider Climb- just in case.
Bec stares up at the Gnome, grunts.
Cas leads them off.
There’s a door at the far end, a sealed stone door with runes etched across its surface. The centre of the seal is a 4-inch wide circular depression about an inch deep. On the southern wall, near the sealed portal, is another, more mundane looking doorway.
“The key must be in there.” Anya states and points to the mundane door.
“You hope.” Jim replies.
“Newt can you…” Cas starts, but the Gnome has already scoped the lock.
“Not a chance- we need the key.” The Gnome is carried over to take look at the mundane door, “no traps- over to you.”
“Ok, ready?” Cas asks.
The others nod
And they’re in.
All along the perimeter of this rectangular room stand elaborately engraved pillars, a total of ten in all, casting bars of shadow across the far walls. In the centre of the room and protruding a foot or so above the brackish water is a dais upon which rests a rune-encrusted golden amulet, its centre accentuated by a large red gem.
“The key.” Newt whispers.
Looming over the dais and its treasure is a 10-foot tall metal statue. Crafted in the shape of a lion-headed humanoid, its body streaked red and brown with rust.
“That better not be…” Newt trails off.
“You can say that again.” Anya finishes.
“What?” Ala, Cas and Jim in chorus.
“An Iron Golem.” Anya and Newt answer back.
“What?” Ala, Cas and Jim back, still in chorus.
“This is getting stupid.” Anya breaks the chain. “I was saying that that thing better not be an Iron Golem.”
“Why- is that bad?” Jim asks.
“Yes, one of those things could easily kill us all, and our friends upstairs should it get out, and probably much of The Nunny, if it felt like it.” Anya glares at Jim, hands on her hips- lecturing him almost.
“Sorry for asking…”
“It can’t be though… can it?” Ala asks.
“We’re about to find out”, Cas swishes off through the water, towards the thing.
The others watch on.
“It’s probably just a statue.” Jim adds.
He’s nearly there, Newt remembers.
“Wait.” He kicks his heels into Bec’s chest, the Barbarian tramps forward. “Let me check it first- can’t do any harm.”
“Yes, stupid of me, sorry Newt.” Cas backs away a little.
The Rogue being manoeuvred, under instruction, by Bec, makes a tour of the dais, it takes a while.
“The entire thing is a trap.”
“Are you sure?” Cas counts his blessings.
“Certain of it.”
“What does it do… this trap?”
“Now that’s the mystery- I’ve no idea, nor do I know how to disarm it.”
Newt looks long and hard at the thing.
“But I do have a solution, of sorts… I’ll explain, Bec’s going to put me down here, I’ll dash up the dais, grab the amulet, dive into the water- submerge, then swim underwater to the door- easy.”
“Where are we going to be?” Anya asks.
“Well if I were you I’d be either out the room altogether or behind the pillars, you see I’ve no idea what’s going to happen.”
“You don’t have to do this Newt.” Cas offers.
“Oh I do, because if that thing starts moving”, Newt points at the Lion-headed Statue, “you’re not going to see me for dust, and I’d rather have the key in my hand.”
Cas thinks about it.
“Alright but let’s get ready, we may as well presume the worst, say that thing is an Iron Golem…”
A minute or so later and a number of spells have been cast, Anya’s Mage Armour shimmers and reflects the turgid water, likewise she feels a little healthier thanks to her Endurance spell. Ala meanwhile has acquired bulk in the form of muscle, courtesy of a Bull’s Strength spell. Newt has quaffed his Potion of Spider Climb and is set to go, floating in the water before the dais. Everyone except the Rogue has a magic weapon drawn, likewise everyone, except Newt, is hidden from sight- peeking out to spy on the brave, or maybe just foolhardy, Rogue.
“Ready?” Newt calls over.
“May Pelor…”
“And Correllon…”
“Bless you.” Cas and Ala finish.
“Fingers bloody crossed”, for good measure Anya sticks her fingers in her ears.
“Ready.” Jim finishes.
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Turn 66: The Guardian.
A lot of things happen very quickly, here goes-
Newt leaps up the dais, actually lands on the top step right next to the amulet, he’s very good at jumping remember.
CLICK.
The Rogue hasn’t got time to look around to see where the sound is coming from, if he had to guess, he’d say from below him.
Newt scoops up the amulet.
GRIND.
Once again there’s no time to look around… but if he had to guess, he’d say the noise came from above him.
Newt leaps for the water.
Ting.
Like the sound of a small stone hitting something.
SPLASH
The Gnome is engulfed by the water.
FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Less than a second later the centre of the chamber is engulfed in a Fireball.
The flame is over in an instant.
Newt surfaces.
Smiling.
The door opens.
Cas fills the doorway smiling at the Gnome who’s holding aloft the amulet.
Then he looks behind Newt.
“NEEEEEEEEEWWWWWT.”
The Rogue doesn’t bother to look over his shoulder, the room shudders, a miniature tidal wave races in every direction, submerging him for a second.
“Aaaaaaarrrrggghhhh.”
The Gnome races out of the chamber, scrambling through the defenders and runs straight up onto the ceiling, clutching the amulet to his chest.
The Iron Golem lurches towards them, it’s very slow, rust flakes off of it as it comes.
“For Pelor.” Cas charges in.
“What?” Leaving Ala and the others standing in the door way.
“BUFFET.” Bec follows the Paladin in.
“Oh Correllon, this is madness- chaaaaaarge.” Ala heads on in.
Jim and Anya briefly reach out to each other, touch for a second, then the Ranger races in to face the metal monster.
Anya stays put, “Smidgin.” Two magic Missile arc out and thump into the Golem, both missiles clang into the creature, leave not a mark.
The adventurers fan out to meet the creature’s awkward charge; its weakness is definitely that it’s agonisingly slow.
Cas dodges in, strikes hard, not a scratch. Jim thumps his battleaxe into the Golem’s leg, nothing. Bec repeats the feat except on its other leg, three for three, the thing is unharmed.
“Oh sodding Pelor.” Cas remarks, looks at the useless magical longsword in his hands.
CLANG—TEEEEAAAAAAR.
Ala sees her opening, she’s made her way to the back of the creature, a perfect hit, her blade tears a gaping hole in the small of the Golem’s back.
“It can be damaged. It can…” Ala’s face is full of joy.
The thing turns to face her.
It lashes out, a sweeping blow, Ala ducks beneath the water then comes up gasping for air but unharmed.
“SMASH IT.”
Cas screams, and hits again- nothing. Ala dodges inside the Iron Golem’s reach, tries her luck again, not a mark.
Jim… the same.
Bec… the same.
“What?” Cas screams runs at the creature and smashes the pommel of his sword into its leg, which doesn’t unsettle the thing in the least, it does however get the things attention.
The Iron Golem turns again, and the Paladin’s in much too close, Cas tries to back up but the water’s too deep, he can’t get out of the way.
CRUNCH
A metal fist smashes into his side, scoops him up, as if he weighed nothing, and flings him a good ten feet away. The Paladin lands with a splash and sinks beneath the waves.
Anya spins out of the room, hides behind the door.
“No, no, no, no this can’t be real.”
Newt meanwhile clambers along the ceiling back into the chamber; the amulet safely tucked away, his Adamantine dagger clutched in his hand.
Cas struggles to his feet, ribs broken, chest crushed, it hurts to breathe, he gasps for air.
“RUN. KEEP OUT OF ITS REACH.”
He takes charge, at the same time using his Divine Power to send a pulse of Healing energy through his body, which eases some of his pain.
“NEWT, GIVE THE KEY TO ANYA. ANYA OPEN THE DOOR.”
Newt does as he’s told, heads back and drops the amulet into Anya’s waiting hands; the Wizard scurries off to the door.
Ala, Jim and Bec are now in perpetual motion, circling, dodging in and out, trying to keep out of the Golem’s reach.
Jim unbalances for a second, almost sinks beneath the waves, he’s caught by a glancing blow, the Golem is wielding a huge scimitar, as well as punching with its off hand, the blow is more a clip than an actual hit, its enough to remind Jim to be more careful in future.
Mid-stride Bec feels something wet on his cheek, puts his hand up to discover it’s his blood, a cut on his temple- he doesn’t remember taking a hit.
“It’s opening.”
And sure enough, so it is- Anya rushes back to the chamber.
“IT’S OPEN. THE DOOR’S OPEN.”
Cas glugs down a Potion of Healing and rushes back towards the Golem.
Bec breaks off heads back to the door, out of the chamber, swapping from his magical dagger to his greatsword, mid flight.
“COME ON.” Anya screams.
Newt doesn’t have to be told twice, he dodges through the newly opened doorway and into a hallway, yet again waist-deep in foul water. Part of the left wall and ceiling has collapsed, creating a sloping pile of rubble below a four-foot diameter hole. A trickle of water and sludge flows from out of the gap.
The way ahead is clear however.
Ala and Jim continue to circle the Golem, Ala has to take evasive action and is sent sprawling for a second, she quickly finds her feet.
“COME ON.”
Cas reaches the doorway screaming at Ala and Jim still in the chamber.
The pair back cautiously towards the doorway, then break and run, as best they can waist deep in water.
The Golem follows after them; it seems to go faster in a straight line, smashes the iron scimitar it wields in one hand down, just missing Jim’s head, the force of the blow splits the stone in one of the huge columns, wedging the sword in tight.
“Shouldn’t we go back?” Jim gabbles staring at the elevator.”
“No. ON.” Cas is definite, he points to the door.
Bec fills the doorway back into the chamber; the Golem is trying to wrench its weapon free, with little success.
SMASH
Bec’s greatsword lances out and rips a hole in the Golem’s torso, the Barbarian grins at the mess he’s wrought.
FWUNG
The Iron Golem’s scimitar is ripped free.
The new hallway ends at a wooden door adorned simply with a blue painted skull. At one time the door might have been solid, but exposure to water and dampness has rotted the wood. From behind the door Newt can hear a cacophony of whispers- or is it just the wind whistling?
“Fecking. Feck.”
The door is definitely trapped; the Gnome gets to work, conscious of the sounds of struggle coming from behind him.
“BEC.” Cas screams, the Barbarian hasn’t got time to turn around. “Hold it- if you can.”
The Barbarian grunts, then leaps forward into the chamber, aims an almighty blow at the Golem, he misses by a mile. The metal monster sees its opportunity and lumbers forward, miscalculates its own dimensions and slams into one of the pillars that dot the room; it crumples staggers and flounders. The Barbarian sees his opportunity lances his greatsword into the creature again, but leaves not a mark.
“FALL BACK.” Cas calls to Jim and Ala, who are still not out the room, they’re standing behind Bec, mimicking the Barbarians cuts and thrusts, fighting the fight for him.
“GET OUT OF THERE.” Cas commands, the pair scatter, rush after Anya who’s already caught up with Newt.
“Trap’s disarmed.” The Gnome grins, gets up and opens… oh hang on, “Bugger it’s locked.” The Gnome sets to work again.
“Come on Newt… Come on.” Anya worries.
Bec dives in again as the Golem tries to stand, this time gets it right, smashes his greatsword into the giant metal man’s knee joint, the monster stumbles again.
“Come on Newt.” Now it’s Jim’s turn.
“Just shut up.”
“Neeeewt?” Ala tries.
“That’s it.”
The Gnome grins and grabs the handle- no its not, the door’s still locked.
“Feck. Feck. Feck.” The Gnome’s new mantra, he sets to work again.
Jim rushes back to the doorway, so he can see Cas, gets there and shrugs at the Paladin, “LOCKED.” He screams.
“Oh Pelor.” Cas levers himself off the wall he’s been leaning on and thrashes the water to foam, charging back into the chamber, and the Iron Golem.
“BUFFET.” Cas screams. Bec echoes his sentiment. “BUFFET.”
Cas and Bec attack simultaneously, Cas’ longsword merely skims the surface, but Bec’s greatsword bites deep into the metal machine’s inner workings, a rusty chunk of iron falls from the creature’s shoulder and splashes into the water.
Once again the Golem staggers, but this time manages to haul itself upright in seconds.
“Got it.” Newt plasters on his smile again and yanks the door open.
It goes quiet for a moment.
“.” Ala stares.
“That’s just what I was going to say.” Newt confirms.
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Turn 67: “There’s nothing else for it…”
Jim rushes back into the flooded chamber, he’s not going to miss out on the fight, Ala too comes running back from the door.
“CAS.” She screams, but the Paladin seems to be otherwise engaged. “There’s nothing else for it…” She mutters and joins the melee, and miraculously lands a half-decent blow on the Iron Golem, slicing through the metal skin of the creature’s right fore-arm.
Alas it’s Bec who suffers for it; he’s caught by the creature’s flailing scimitar, a lucky blow, but enough to send the Barbarian crashing backwards.
However in the chaos he stabs back, it’s only a scratch but again the Golem staggers, it seems unable to turn now, to face those that are smashing at its rear.
Ala takes advantage of the situation, crashes her longsword into the creature, another cut in its metal skin, this time high up on the back of its right shoulder.
“BUFFET”
The Barbarian strides in again, and is swatted away in an instant, lands hard ten feet away, clearly no longer in charge of his limbs, he struggles to drag himself up and out of the water. When he does rise he’s woozy, bloodied and battered.
“Come on… We can do this.” Cas shouts, although his, and Jim’s, blows are having no discernable affect on the thing.
Meanwhile back at the door…
Anya opens the door and steps through the portal, to be sure, she picks up a handful of something, and then steps back into the dungeon corridor, she motions, Newt holds out his hand, she fills it- with sand.
Open-mouthed, still, Newt turns and marches back towards the sound of melee, Anya shuts the door, then follows on behind.
Bec’s not done through, he scrabbles in the water and grasps his greatsword, wades back in again, the creature it seems is waiting for his attack, ignoring the others.
Bec strikes, as does the Golem, the Barbarian’s sword hits first- opening up the Golem’s chest cavity, oil and gunk spill out, it makes a grinding sound it’s own attack stutters, falls well wide.
The Goodman Gang circle the creature, it must be close to destruction, and yet few, if any, of their blows have any impact on the staggering Golem, its own attack is useless, barely able to lift its scimitar.
Anya and Newt arrive in the doorway, actually Newt above Anya, he’s taken to the ceiling again.
“Right, that’s it- I’ve had enough of this.” The Rogue skitters along the ceiling of the chamber till his directly over the Golem, then launches himself down, grabs onto the things lion-head and holds on for dear life, perched on one shoulder.
The Golem flails wildly, but the Rogue grips on tight.
The rest of the gang take evasive action, which involves Cas running into Ala, flattening her, the pair sink beneath the waves- then come up spluttering.
Meanwhile Newt gets settled then stabs his Adamantine dagger down into the Golem’s head.
SCCCCCRRRREEEE.
The Iron Golem stiffens.
And in a deep but slurred voice adds, “Does Not Compuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute.”
Then ceases working altogether.
DMs Interlude- of course it wasn’t an Iron Golem, but who am I to spoil their fun. It was actually a Rusty Iron Construct HD 4d10+30 HP 52 and a DR of 10/Adamantine, with the Spell Resistances of an Iron Golem.
“Help me.” Bec staggers, he’s bleeding badly, Ala’s quickly on the spot. The Gang head out of the chamber, back to the lift to rest and recuperate.
“You’re not going to believe this…” Anya states.
“What?” Jim asks.
Anya and Newt shake their heads, to confirm that the other are not going to believe this.
“What’s down the passage? Why did you come back?” Cas asks.
“It’s best you come and take a look for yourselves.” Anya replies.
“What is it?” The Paladin whines.
“Come and see; it’s easier.” Newt finishes.
Minutes later they’re all stood before the door, Anya opens it.
Beyond is a desert.
You heard me.
A desert.
Miles and miles of sand dunes baking under a fiery sun, it goes on for…
Ever?
“It’s an illusion.” Cas starts.
“Nope.”
Newt wanders through the door, which is suspended, about six inches above the sand, there’s nothing behind it, apart from miles and miles of more desert. The Gnome grabs up a handful of sand, steps back through the portal and shows his companions.
Bec even tastes it.
It’s sand.
The shocked tableau remains in place for nearly a minute, Cas breaks the silence.
“Well, let’s have a look then.” The Paladin steps in, the others follow.
An hour later.
“It’s a desert alright.” Cas trudges back through the doorway.
“I want to go home.” Jim offers.
“Not a bad idea.” Cas concurs. “Right then back to see Major Khan I think.” Cas stomps back through the door and all the way out of the dungeon, the others close behind.
The Grimbo City Watch aren’t pleased to see them, but the feeling’s mutual, they decide not to press the point.
Cas reports to Sergeant Casper, doesn’t leave anything out- the Fireball, the Iron Golem and especially not the miles and miles of endless desert.
“Right, I’m off for a bath.” The Paladin states.
And with much harrumphing the Goodman Gang head back to the Inn, and clean sheets.
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Turn 68: Khan again.
“So what’s going on?” Jim asks, he’s wearing a loose fitting robe, smoking a pipe and wearing slippers, in fact all of the Gang are dressed for bed. Only Major Khan stands out in his dress uniform, complete with medals and decorations.
“It seems that the door you opened leads into an extra-dimensional plane of existence.”
Jim regrets asking the question, “A what?”
“Somewhere else.” Anya simplifies.
“Oh. Why didn’t he say that?” Jim points his pipe at Khan.
“Anyway we have ascertained that this desert is not endless, the exit is directly north of the entrance.” Khan continues.
“How far?” Cas asks.
“Ahh. Unknown, I’m afraid.”
“What’s on the other side?” Cas asks again.
“Now that we do know. First of all, the Undine, which you are of course tasked to destroy. Secondly an object of great Power, which I’m afraid is also cursed- needless to say you should leave it alone, in fact it is quite possible that the artefact, in the wrong hands, could prove to be as deadly as the Undine, you must leave it where it is. I guarantee upon your exit that more traps will be put in place so that no-one will ever go there again, we’ll seal the place for good, so that nothing gets out.” Khan finishes his speech, looks pleased with himself.
“Can’t you just do that now- save us having to destroy the Undine?” Anya asks.
“No, or at least not without getting the water out of the Dungeon, you see the Undine’s bindings were probably broken when the water got into the place, so while the place is flooded she may be able to escape- we have to be certain.”
“So you built the thing next to a sewer, smart.” Anya states.
“Yes, well… We don’t actually know how long this prison has been there, it’s a case of which came first, the sewer, or the prison. Regardless, we are prepared to double our offer- 2,000 gold coins; we will of course equip you as best we can for the desert, whatever you wish- within reason.”
The Goodman Gang consider their options.
“What do you say?” Major Khan leans in, his hands are shaking Ala notices, and yet he seems to be telling the truth.
“We’ll give you your answer in the morning.” Cas states.
“Oh now…”
“In the morning.”
“Very well.”
Major Khan bows low and then makes for the door, turns back, “I’d just like to say, on a personal level, how grateful I am, it’s clear to me that the City of Grimbo is a much safer place with you guys about- thank you.”
Then exits.
“Dick.” Jim hisses after Khan’s gone.
The Gang get on with their discussion.
Major Khan meanwhile heads out of the Inn and back into the shadows he came from.
Two days later.
In the desert.
The wind’s getting up, and the sand is getting everywhere.
“I’ve got sand in places I didn’t even know I had places.” Cas grins.
“Shut up.” Anya grumbles.
“I’m boiling.” Jim shouts in amazement- everyone ignores him.
At the back of the group Jim leads Shadrack, an ex-pit pony, lately put into service as a beast of burden, the creature’s mainly carrying water and food, but also all of the warrior’s heavy armour.
“How long have we been going now?” Newt shouts at Cas, he has to repeat himself because of the noise of the wind.
The Paladin shrugs, “about two hours.”
“Damn.”
The Gnome looks back; he can still see the door, just.
Anya shoves another marker in the sand, its flag flutters madly.
“How long more do you think?” Newt screams.
Cas shrugs again, “A couple of hours… We’ll see.”
The wind roars.
Ten hours later…
“I hate this… Bloody sand everywhere, it’s in my ears, my bloody ears. Look at this.” Newt flops off a boot, tips it out, it’s full of sand. “I hate the sand, I bloody hate it, it’s soo… Oh I just bloody hate it. And you… You said a couple of hours.” Newt stares at Cas.
The wind has dropped, not a breeze.
The Gang have stopped for the night, according to Cas, and his compass, they’re right on course. The Paladin looks back, he can see the last marker Anya placed, just- they’ve used two thirds of their total already; there can’t be much more of this he thinks.
Ala sidles over to him, whispers.
“Cas, I’ve only got three Endure Elements spells for tomorrow, who gets them?” She stares hard at her love.
Cas spits, his hands are cracked and dry, what he’d give for a dollop of the moisturising balm in the tub by his bed- his regime’s gone to pot.
“You, Anya and Newt.” The Paladin suddenly makes up his mind, then scrambles to his feet, “Right then, let’s put up the tents.”
The Goodman Gang wander over to Shadrack, Jim in charge of supplies suddenly has a thought, “What tents?” He squints at Cas framed by the sinking sun.
Newt turns away quickly; he doesn’t want them to see him cry.
It gets dark very quickly.
And cold.
A fairly uncomfortable eight hours later, the Gang are up and raring to go.
“That wasn’t too bad.” Jim leaps up and does a bunch of star jumps, gets the blood flowing. “Come on…” He cajoles- no takers.
After a rushed breakfast they’re on their way again, the first Endure Elements spells have ended, except for Newt, Anya and Ala who get new applications for the day, for Jim, Bec and Cas it’s all for real now.
Three hours later…
It’s above 90C, there’s still no shade, no sign of a door ahead, or behind for that matter, and no sign of their last marker.
Cas is a slick of sweat, staggering at times. Bec the same, the giant man cannot seem to keep the stinging sweat out of his eyes, he blinks furiously rubs the spot till its red raw.
“What shape are we going to be in when we get there?” Anya asks Cas when they break from their trek for a moments rest.
Cas just stares at her, hands on his hips, breathing hard, between mouthfuls of warm and bitter tasting water, finally he just shakes his head.
Three hours later…
They stop again for a brief but fortifying meal, Jim insists on warm food, and plenty of it. Bec and Cas who are clearly feeling the heat are fortified, briefly- they trudge on.
Jim whistles as he walks, tickling Shadrack’s ear.
One hour later…
Cas stumbles, sprawls onto the baking sand, it’s nice here- rest now.
Jim is first to him, picks him up with Ala’s help- pushes a full canteen into the Paladin’s mouth, upends it for a while then uses the rest to cool the Paladin’s burning face. “Soak your clothes, keep them wet- there’s plenty of water, we’re not going to run out.”
Ala nods, “I have spells to conjure water- use as much as you need, come on Cas, not much further.”
“I’ll tell you what though.” Jim calls from the back, when they’re on the move again, “its baking isn’t it.” The Ranger wipes his brow, pats Shadrack’s flank, and hums a pleasant tune.
Two hours later…
Cas is staggering again, an official rest break is called for.
“Ok, that’s enough, we’ll have something more to eat, then we can make up our minds if we want to go on or not- maybe just for a couple of hours. Let’s get a fire started. Get some warm food in you; it’s going to get cold tonight…” Jim starts.
“Especially with no tents.” Ala adds.
“Ok. Ok, my bad- let’s get Cas settled for a bit.”
Bec sinks to his knees, wobbles, even though the temperature is dropping, the sun is heading down below the horizon, he can see two of things- two Jim’s, two Anya’s, in fact two of everything. He keeps quiet, drinks two whole canteens of water, then upends a third over him, soaks himself thoroughly- feels a little better for it.
An hour later…
“Are you sure you’re ok to carry on?” Ala stares at Cas.
“Yes.” The Paladin manages and then clambers to his feet.
It’s a lot cooler now, the sun is setting fast, there’s still enough light to see the compass and the miles and miles of desert ahead of them.
“How long more do you think?” Cas whispers when Jim comes close.
“Dunno, lovely sunset though.” The Ranger stops to stare, the Paladin plods on.
Two hours later…
“Pelor’s fishcake, trilobites nibbling on my trousers. I am the Walrus, THE WALRUS… ALA. ALA. ALA I CAN’T SEE YOU. Mew. Rue. Dooooooo…” Cas gasps for breath.
“Hold him down.” Ala instructs.
“Sun stroke.” Jim confirms.
“We’re not going any further.” Ala states.
“Get a fire lit, all the water you can, and blankets.” Jim shouts at Anya and Newt, they comply.
“Crab apple sun stroke, moke, broke, toke… joke… poke.” Cas rambles.
Bec crumples, there’s… a lot of everybody… and things… everythings… a lot of it… joining up all the time… blurry. Bec slips into unconsciousness; it seems infinitely more pleasant than his present surroundings, “Sand… wich.” His last word, or words.
(Well, actually your lot weren't quite that bad.)
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