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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 7505224" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p>Light rain patters down on the fields as our heroes move, Alkor in the lead, tracking the ruts left by their foe's wagon. It has been a few days since it passed; in this fertile land, with this weather, the grasses are already springing up and starting to obscure the trail. </p><p></p><p>Alkor's skills are great enough to meet the challenge.</p><p></p><p>The group follows the wagon trail first to the east. Once it is out of town, it turns to the south, passing west of the ruins of Thrushton. The ground is uneven and irregular; Alkor says, “We have to be moving faster than him. We've got to be closing the distance. There's no way that a wagon can move too quickly across this terrain. It would throw a wheel or break a spoke if he tried.”</p><p></p><p>So it seems inevitable that our heroes will catch up with their adversary- whoever it is. But alas, the trail is not unguarded.</p><p></p><p>The group moves under the canopy of a group of trees, and that is when the figures shamble out from behind cover and attack. Until they do, the reek of death is covered by the scent of petrichor, the sweet smell of the summer flowers blooming.</p><p></p><p>Shifty reacts first, hurling his dagger at an advancing undead warrior. “Watch out!” he cries, springing sideways away from the oncoming figures. </p><p></p><p>The others start to draw weapons, to prepare themselves to meet the enemy, but then, with a skittering, clattering sound, something else bursts free from the underbrush. It moves like a centipede, but instead of flesh covered in chitin, it is all bone- a mix of ribs, thigh bones, skulls, vertebrae, everything. It moves sinuously, rushing forward on grotesque, mis-matched legs.</p><p></p><p>Before anyone else can move, it is among the party, ripping its way through, scoring terrific wounds on our heroes. With incredible swiftness, it slashes and scrabbles at them, winding its way through the group and back out again. Blood sprays in one direction, two, three. </p><p></p><p>Kane roars and enters a rage. </p><p></p><p>The battle is rough. The osteopede is deadly and tough; the party first tries to focus on it, but it's too fast, and the zombies closing on them prevent them from turning their full attention on it. Things look up for a second when the zombies start to fall, but grow more desperate when those same zombies rise up again after being seemingly defeated, terrifying the heroes.*</p><p></p><p>The fight keeps growing more and more desperate, as first Orzza and then Alkor and Sepia drop unconscious. </p><p></p><p>“Oh no!” Shifty cries. “We have to get out of here! They're not worth it!”</p><p></p><p>But Shar uses <em>healing words</em> to bring them back around, and despite being pressed hard, the party finally overcomes their foes- albeit barely.**</p><p></p><p>“That,” Karl gasps, “was no coincidence. Remember the bone footprints at the kocho farm? I think we've just found evidence that whoever invaded my master's tower was involved.”</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The trail leads onward to a lonely farm. It's clear to Alkor that our heroes are catching up; they are making good time. </p><p></p><p>The farm has a small house, door open wide. Scorch marks scar the threshold. Flies are swarming, and as the party approaches, a fat vulture waddles out of the door and takes to the air. </p><p></p><p>“That's not a good sign,” says Sepia. </p><p></p><p>Their quarry is not in the building. All that they find within is a dead, half-eaten dog and blood spattered everywhere. Footprints lead to the barn; when they investigate it, they find a horror show. To one side, a pile of tools has fallen over on itself. To the other, the bodies of the family (husband, wife, son and two daughters) lie strangled. Before them is a dead goat; its head has been spiked to the wall and much of the flesh torn from it. Hay bales fill much of the back of the barn under the loft. </p><p></p><p>It's another trap. </p><p></p><p>Once our heroes are deep inside, more undead reveal themselves- some kind of terrifying wraith and two flaming skeletons, as well as a mass of bloated demons and <em>something else.[/ij Something ragged, its form blurring, a white ceramic mask covering its face. Tattered robes trail on the ground. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Things go horribly wrong.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The masked creature blurs, shifting its form. It looks like a human, like a skeleton, like a terrible, beautiful, frightful, awesome mix of- of everyone our heroes have ever known. Their friends. Their families. The party finds their minds warping, twisting. They can't trust their senses. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The burning skeletons hurl flames, and the barn erupts into a conflagration. Suddenly the entire party is being cooked alive. In mere seconds, the whole place is ablaze. Only by smashing their way through a wall do our heroes survive. Only the greatest stroke of luck keeps them from all dying. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>But the flames wreak havoc on them and their foes alike. Perhaps it's a miscalculation on the part of whoever it is that they are really pursuing; more likely, their prey does not care about his servants or allies. Whichever it is, the fire grows swiftly as all the hay in the barn catches.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Coughing, burning, bleeding from their foes, the party manages to break free of the barn and slam the doors shut behind them. Kane presses up against them, head swimming from the smoke, wincing from the heat. But he will not let their enemies out.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“Fools!” The voice floats our from within, gloating. “You cannot stop Quah-Nomag! He will destroy you all!” </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Even as it dies, the strange, masked figure laughs at them. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>***</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“What was that thing?” wonders Shar. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“I have no idea,” Karl says glumly. “I've never seen anything like it. And I'm not even sure we saw its true face. It seemed able to control its form.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“And to read our minds,” Shifty adds. “It turned into people we knew.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“It was like it could control our senses. It seemed to change the way the barn looked, too.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“It felt almost like one of those dreams where you know you're dreaming,” Sepia says. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“At least we know the name of the person we're after now.” Karl frowns. “Assuming that it was telling the truth.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“Quah-Nomag.” Shifty frowns. “Does anyone recognize that name?” Nobody does. “Or even what kind of name it is? Where it's from?” </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Again, nobody does.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“I found the wagon's trail,” Alkor calls from the other side of the field. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“This Quah-Nomag has been killing people,” Shar says. “We can't abandon the pursuit until we catch him.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“Are we sure they're worth it?” Shifty moans.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>***</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>A small arm of the Goldwash runs through the farm. The wagon's trail parallels it, running further south. Finally, at a ruined fort, little more than an old foundation with a few crumbling partial walls, they catch up to it. The bodokod that hauled it are dead, slaughtered; a dead goat is impaled on a stake, set upright beside it. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“Here,” says Alkor. He has found a trap door. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The party clusters around as he pulls it open. From below, they can hear chanting. Someone is down there. Karl holds up a hand, silently telling the others to pause for a moment, and cocks his head, listening. After a moment, he whispers, “He's performing a ritual.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“Can you tell what?” asks Sepia. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“Yes,” the wizard answers quietly, face going pale. “It's called <em>Abyssal fall.</em> He is trying to shift himself to the very bottom of the Elemental Chaos.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“Let's go,” says Orzza, and jumps down into the room below.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Orzza's special destiny is revealed as our heroes confront Quah-Nomag!</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>*These were my conversion of coffer corpses. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>**Between them, the party spent <strong>21 healing surges</strong> in this encounter. This cemented the osteopede (from <em>Open Grave,</em> listed under “deathtritus”, IIRC, as one of my favorite types of undead and ensured that I would convert it for use it future editions. And it also ensured that, when future pcs encounter one, the players will remember it and dread the fight.</em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 7505224, member: 1210"] Light rain patters down on the fields as our heroes move, Alkor in the lead, tracking the ruts left by their foe's wagon. It has been a few days since it passed; in this fertile land, with this weather, the grasses are already springing up and starting to obscure the trail. Alkor's skills are great enough to meet the challenge. The group follows the wagon trail first to the east. Once it is out of town, it turns to the south, passing west of the ruins of Thrushton. The ground is uneven and irregular; Alkor says, “We have to be moving faster than him. We've got to be closing the distance. There's no way that a wagon can move too quickly across this terrain. It would throw a wheel or break a spoke if he tried.” So it seems inevitable that our heroes will catch up with their adversary- whoever it is. But alas, the trail is not unguarded. The group moves under the canopy of a group of trees, and that is when the figures shamble out from behind cover and attack. Until they do, the reek of death is covered by the scent of petrichor, the sweet smell of the summer flowers blooming. Shifty reacts first, hurling his dagger at an advancing undead warrior. “Watch out!” he cries, springing sideways away from the oncoming figures. The others start to draw weapons, to prepare themselves to meet the enemy, but then, with a skittering, clattering sound, something else bursts free from the underbrush. It moves like a centipede, but instead of flesh covered in chitin, it is all bone- a mix of ribs, thigh bones, skulls, vertebrae, everything. It moves sinuously, rushing forward on grotesque, mis-matched legs. Before anyone else can move, it is among the party, ripping its way through, scoring terrific wounds on our heroes. With incredible swiftness, it slashes and scrabbles at them, winding its way through the group and back out again. Blood sprays in one direction, two, three. Kane roars and enters a rage. The battle is rough. The osteopede is deadly and tough; the party first tries to focus on it, but it's too fast, and the zombies closing on them prevent them from turning their full attention on it. Things look up for a second when the zombies start to fall, but grow more desperate when those same zombies rise up again after being seemingly defeated, terrifying the heroes.* The fight keeps growing more and more desperate, as first Orzza and then Alkor and Sepia drop unconscious. “Oh no!” Shifty cries. “We have to get out of here! They're not worth it!” But Shar uses [i]healing words[/i] to bring them back around, and despite being pressed hard, the party finally overcomes their foes- albeit barely.** “That,” Karl gasps, “was no coincidence. Remember the bone footprints at the kocho farm? I think we've just found evidence that whoever invaded my master's tower was involved.” *** The trail leads onward to a lonely farm. It's clear to Alkor that our heroes are catching up; they are making good time. The farm has a small house, door open wide. Scorch marks scar the threshold. Flies are swarming, and as the party approaches, a fat vulture waddles out of the door and takes to the air. “That's not a good sign,” says Sepia. Their quarry is not in the building. All that they find within is a dead, half-eaten dog and blood spattered everywhere. Footprints lead to the barn; when they investigate it, they find a horror show. To one side, a pile of tools has fallen over on itself. To the other, the bodies of the family (husband, wife, son and two daughters) lie strangled. Before them is a dead goat; its head has been spiked to the wall and much of the flesh torn from it. Hay bales fill much of the back of the barn under the loft. It's another trap. Once our heroes are deep inside, more undead reveal themselves- some kind of terrifying wraith and two flaming skeletons, as well as a mass of bloated demons and [i]something else.[/ij Something ragged, its form blurring, a white ceramic mask covering its face. Tattered robes trail on the ground. Things go horribly wrong. The masked creature blurs, shifting its form. It looks like a human, like a skeleton, like a terrible, beautiful, frightful, awesome mix of- of everyone our heroes have ever known. Their friends. Their families. The party finds their minds warping, twisting. They can't trust their senses. The burning skeletons hurl flames, and the barn erupts into a conflagration. Suddenly the entire party is being cooked alive. In mere seconds, the whole place is ablaze. Only by smashing their way through a wall do our heroes survive. Only the greatest stroke of luck keeps them from all dying. But the flames wreak havoc on them and their foes alike. Perhaps it's a miscalculation on the part of whoever it is that they are really pursuing; more likely, their prey does not care about his servants or allies. Whichever it is, the fire grows swiftly as all the hay in the barn catches. Coughing, burning, bleeding from their foes, the party manages to break free of the barn and slam the doors shut behind them. Kane presses up against them, head swimming from the smoke, wincing from the heat. But he will not let their enemies out. “Fools!” The voice floats our from within, gloating. “You cannot stop Quah-Nomag! He will destroy you all!” Even as it dies, the strange, masked figure laughs at them. *** “What was that thing?” wonders Shar. “I have no idea,” Karl says glumly. “I've never seen anything like it. And I'm not even sure we saw its true face. It seemed able to control its form.” “And to read our minds,” Shifty adds. “It turned into people we knew.” “It was like it could control our senses. It seemed to change the way the barn looked, too.” “It felt almost like one of those dreams where you know you're dreaming,” Sepia says. “At least we know the name of the person we're after now.” Karl frowns. “Assuming that it was telling the truth.” “Quah-Nomag.” Shifty frowns. “Does anyone recognize that name?” Nobody does. “Or even what kind of name it is? Where it's from?” Again, nobody does. “I found the wagon's trail,” Alkor calls from the other side of the field. “This Quah-Nomag has been killing people,” Shar says. “We can't abandon the pursuit until we catch him.” “Are we sure they're worth it?” Shifty moans. *** A small arm of the Goldwash runs through the farm. The wagon's trail parallels it, running further south. Finally, at a ruined fort, little more than an old foundation with a few crumbling partial walls, they catch up to it. The bodokod that hauled it are dead, slaughtered; a dead goat is impaled on a stake, set upright beside it. “Here,” says Alkor. He has found a trap door. The party clusters around as he pulls it open. From below, they can hear chanting. Someone is down there. Karl holds up a hand, silently telling the others to pause for a moment, and cocks his head, listening. After a moment, he whispers, “He's performing a ritual.” “Can you tell what?” asks Sepia. “Yes,” the wizard answers quietly, face going pale. “It's called [i]Abyssal fall.[/i] He is trying to shift himself to the very bottom of the Elemental Chaos.” “Let's go,” says Orzza, and jumps down into the room below. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Orzza's special destiny is revealed as our heroes confront Quah-Nomag! *These were my conversion of coffer corpses. **Between them, the party spent [b]21 healing surges[/b] in this encounter. This cemented the osteopede (from [i]Open Grave,[/i] listed under “deathtritus”, IIRC, as one of my favorite types of undead and ensured that I would convert it for use it future editions. And it also ensured that, when future pcs encounter one, the players will remember it and dread the fight.[/i] [/QUOTE]
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