Weirds, Lycanthropes and Undead Minions. (Oh my!) Part 1
Bootsy – 3rd level Gnome Sorcerer
Celtir – 3rd level Elven Cleric
Frankie – 3rd level Dwarven Barbarian
Wencis – 2nd level Aasimar Incarnate
“More undead!” Celtir cried out, boldly stepping toward the dark pit and presenting his holy symbol.
“Very
ing funny,” grumbled Bootsy, as he wearily pulled himself out of the hole. Bootsy and Wencis had done their best to clean up, but there was only so much that could be done without proper facilities.
Together again, the companions made a quick search of the area, finding a chest with some rather nice armor and, more importantly, a rain barrel, which Bootsy and Wencis put to good use. The others packed up their loot in preparation for the trip back to Kingsholm.
Frankie looked back at the two washing at the barrel, “Now you only look half dead and half drowned.”
“I think half dead and half drowned makes you all dead,” Wencis commented.
Once they reached town, they couldn’t help but notice the villagers quickly pulling their children away and crossing to the opposite side of the street as they made their way back to the Coronet and Cabbage. Upon entering the inn, all conversation stopped and all eyes were upon the companions.
Bootsy spread his arms, to let the patrons see his blood stained robes and said, “This is what happens when you piss off the gnome.” He then looked to the innkeeper, “Two baths if you would… and is there any chance we could get some clean clothes sent up?” The shocked expression never left the innkeepers face as he slowly nodded.
Celtir chimed in, “You might as well make it four baths. We’ve all had a hard morning.” After they had gone upstairs, the conversation in the common room started up once more with twice the enthusiasm.
The rest of the afternoon was spent getting cleaned and healed. When they all felt presentable again, they finally made their way back to the common room. The crowd seemed even larger then it had been and the companions couldn’t help but feel the looks they were receiving were… expectant. Ignoring the looks and seeing no free tables, the party decided now was a good time to unload some of the goods they had salvaged.
“Could you pick up some masterwork bolts for me crossbow when you go to sell the swag?” asked Bootsy.
“You’re not coming with us?” asked Wencis.
“Nah, got some stuff to do, magic stuff, you would nay understand.”
“Well, don’t cause more damage then we can afford,” Celtir answered.
Small flames were already dancing across Bootsy’s fingers as he started back up the stairs. “Don’t you worry too much lad,” he said to no one in particular, “They haven’t removed the bathwater yet.”
A short time later, the barkeep sniffed the air. “Sara,” he called to one of the serving girls, “Could you check the kitchen? I think the suppers burning.”
----------
Early the next morning they were ready to strike out once again at the evils infesting the Barrow. Another uneventful trek to the graveyard, a short time climbing down the hole and the companions once again found themselves back in the hexagonal room. The only obvious path was a set of double doors on the western wall. Celtir stepped up and opened the doors. Beyond was a short hall, devoid of any furniture or feature except for two doors on the western wall. Stepping forward once again, Celtir pulled on the northern door. It didn’t budge.
Frankie, flexing his muscles and smiling, stepped up, “Here, let me give it a try.” Once again, the door did not budge.
Wencis stepped forward, “Having a little trouble?” He gave the door a quick tug, “Let’s try the other one.”
Together, Frankie and Celtir tried one more time to open the northern door but the door still would not open.
As they were moving to try the southern door, Bootsy ran to the front. “Here, let a real man open this door,” he said as he moved to the northern door. Grabbing the handle, he braced against the wall next to the door with one leg and gave a mighty tug. “Aye, that door ain’t openin’ for no one.” Celtir stepped up to the southern door.
Beyond was a short hall, with a ladder that descended to the south. The corridor seemed to continue to the west at the bottom of the ladder. Once the companions had climbed down, they found themselves standing in a room divided by swiftly running water. Across the water they could see steep stairs that lead up to a balcony and a closed stone door. On either side of the channel there were four statues of soldiers with shields at their feet, swords raised in salute. Two of the statues on the near side had been smashed and near the rubble lay two dead goblinoids. A narrow bridge connected the two sides of the room. Wencis went to investigate the bodies as Celtir checked the rubble of the statues. As Wencis rifled through the belongings, he noticed the blackened and swollen skin of the creatures and interrupted Celtir’s search of the rubble. “What do you make of this?”
Celtir stepped over to the bodies and knelt to inspect them. “Cold. Frostbite and hypothermia I suspect.”
Looking at the equipment looted from the bodies Frankie noted, “All their stuff seems to be here, even some potions. Either this is the last of them, or their friends left in a hurry.”
Wencis had stepped back from the bodies, bringing him close to the bridge. All the companions heard a quiet sound, as if something was moving through the water. Looking back at the channel they saw that a serpent of water had risen from the channel near the bridge.
“Well, that’s a little weird,” said Frankie.
“More intruders. Be gone from here defilers or pay the price of your folly as have those before you!” the Serpent commanded. “Go back the way you have come, leave the dead in peace!”
Bootsy was wondering how well fire might work against water creatures and Frankie was reaching for his axe when Celtir stepped forward. “Greetings noble guardian. We are seeking the defilers of this place of rest, so that they may be eliminated and peace can be returned to the dead.”
The serpent, apparently flattered by Celtir’s polite address, rose a little higher from the water for a moment, “Those you seek have gone through the door to the north. Go forth and destroy those who have defiled this place. Good luck on your quest.” With these words the serpent slipped beneath the water once again.
The others watched the scene with shocked expressions. “We’re talkin’ to monsters now are we? What is this world coming to?” Bootsy mumbled as they all started across the bridge.
Celtir just smiled, “A little diplomacy can go a long way.”
Bootsy gave a short laugh, “So can a crossbow bolt.”
Beyond the door Celtir found a passage that angled away to the northwest. Four statues stood along the eastern wall before four vaults, a female mage with a staff held high, a dwarf brandishing a symbol of Moradin and two elves, which looked almost identical. One held a bow, the other a rapier and a dagger. Across the hall from the statues, there was a stone door. At the far end of the hall stood another door, two polished black statues of warriors on either side of it, their halberd crossed over the door. As the others moved to inspect the statues along the eastern wall, Wencis moved to the door across from the statues. “Let’s see where this goes,” he said as he pulled it open. Beyond the door, two short sets of stairs led down to the south and appeared to lead to a small room.
Frankie took the lead and moved cautiously down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs he found himself in a small, clean chamber and the statue of a robed man holding a book open in front of him. There was a flat stone door just before it on the south wall. Behind him he heard Wencis, “It’s always good to check and see if there is anything written in books held by statues.” Frankie thought this sounded reasonable and stepped forward to allow Wencis into the room to inspect the statue. The moment he stepped into the room, a rat-like humanoid that was hidden in a dark corner lashed out with a rapier, piercing Frankie in the arm. Momentarily stunned by this unexpected attack, Frankie was caught off guard by another attack from the creature. He moved his axe to try to knock away the thin blade, but realized too late that this was a ruse to put him out of position to defend from the real strike that pierced his left shoulder.
Frankie reacted quickly. Seeing the tight quarters here, he turned, grabbed Wencis and pulled him along, back up the stairs to the hall up above. Bootsy, hearing the ruckus on the stairs and footfalls approaching, readied his crossbow.
Once they reached the top with the creature close behind, Bootsy let fly his bolt which sailed past the creature. Frustrated by his missed shot he started to reload. Celtir’s shot with his bow also went wide of its mark, striking the wall next to the beast. The creature struck again with its rapier, piercing Frankie in the back. Blood seeping from his wounds, Frankie brought his axe around full circle, the blade slicing through the creature’s abdomen almost completely eviscerating it. The shocked creature brought his free hand across his belly in an attempt to hold in his entrails. Bootsy and Celtir again missed with their shots and it was Wencis’ Soul Spark that finally brought the combat to an end. The energy from its attack struck the creature in the head. His blade slipped from his grasp and he fell to the floor.
As they watched, the rat-like creature’s features began to twist and change before their eyes, until they saw it was a hobgoblin that lay on the floor, dead.
Celtir and Wencis knelt to examine the body. “Were-rat,” said Celtir. “Good thing no one was bitten.”
Gathering the creature's equipment, Celtir held up a key, “I wonder what this goes to? Better keep it somewhere safe.”
After the body was thoroughly looted, Wencis and Frankie again returned to the small room at the bottom of the stars. Wencis stepped up to check the book. The page seemed to swim before his eyes then clearly read –
Two as one can win the day,
The one with two shows the way,
Brave the blade and break the seal,
Twist the knife it will reveal.
“A poem worthy of the great bard E.G. Gygax,” Wencis stated with a smile. Turning to Frankie he asked, “Didn’t one of the elves upstairs have two blades? A dagger and a rapier, right?”
“I think so,” Frankie answered. “I’ll go check.”
As Frankie went back upstairs, Wencis called to him, “If it does, try twisting the dagger.”
Sure enough, one of the Elven twins held two blades. Frankie stepped up to the statue and twisted the dagger. It rotated easily and a grinding sound was heard from the bottom of the stairs. Wencis called up to his companions, “The vault door has opened!”
Frankie came back down as Wencis stepped toward the sarcophagus that was within the vault. “I may need some help with this, these things can be pretty heavy,” he said. Surprisingly, the lid pivoted easily and Wencis peered in. He smiled as he pulled the items from the sarcophagus. Each was an exquisitely crafted item, a finely woven tabard, a masterwork rapier and quiver and a set of leather bracers. There was also a rolled up scroll with the items.
The others quickly came down and Celtir cast
Detect Magic. “They are all magical, except the scroll.” Bootsy’s face fell. He had been grinning and reaching for the scroll with high hopes.
“A non-magical scroll? Whoever heard of such a thing,” he grumbled as he unrolled it. “It’s Draconic,” he said looking at the writing. “
‘We who rest still long to serve. If you seek the same, take our goods and be blessed. If greed moved this stone and not a true heart, may our curse find you ere we awake.’ Hmm, a little from column A, a little from column B. I wonder where that leaves us.” He looked at the others and shrugged. “I think we technically qualify as ‘The Good Guys.’”
The others nodded their agreement. Celtir put on the tabard and the quiver, Bootsy put on the bracers and, at the suggestion of the others, Frankie took the rapier, though he couldn’t quite comprehend why anyone would wield such a dainty weapon. Celtir reassured him, “It’ll be good to have, you know, just in case your axe is hitting a creature but doesn’t seem to be doing any damage.” Frankie wasn’t sure what Celtir was getting at, but nodded his head and took the blade anyway. “If you really decide you don’t want it, I’ll get it from you later,” Celtir added.
After the new-found equipment was stowed, they moved up to the northern door. Celtir tried the door. “I think it’s stuck. Frankie, give me a hand here.”
“Maybe there’s a secret release or something,” said Wencis stepping forward to examine the area around the door.
“Maybe it’s locked and the key we found on rat-boy will open it,” said Bootsy.
The others stopped in their tracks. “Um. Yeah, I’d forgotten about that,” Celtir said, his face turning a little red. “Now that you mention it, it does seem to just be locked.”
