Varags in the Mist
“Well, that was uncomfortable, but at least it was uneventful,” Celtir said, while stretching out his stiffened limbs.
The night in the pit had passed without any trouble, each member had taken watch in turn and morning had arrived all too early for some of the tired adventurers.
“Yeah, sleeping on stone can’t be good for you,” commented Wencis.
“Speak for yourself,” said Frankie with a grin. “It’s really the only way to get a proper nights rest, with the solid earth at your back.” Celtir winced as Frankie thumped him on the back.
Bootsy looked at Wencis and Celtir, “How is it that you two got to sleep on either side of the only female in the group.”
“To protect her from the things that might go ‘bump’ in the night,” Celtir responded, with a pointed look in the gnome’s direction.
Climbing out of the pit, the companions made ready to see what challenges awaited them in the next room.
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Celtir was first to climb onto the stones that had been piled four feet high at the bottom of the stairs. Bootsy quickly clambered up next to him. Beyond was a wide room full of mist and moisture. Directly ahead were three sarcophagi, their lids removed to provide the material to block the doorway. To the west was a wide crack in the floor, near which stood three weathered statues of human warriors leaning on longswords and bearing shields. Straw had been spread on the floor just beyond the fissure. The sound of falling water came from the west.
Through the mist to the west they could make out three of the hairy, horned Varags hastening to ready their bows.
Celtir jumped down and quickly moved into the room as Bootsy fired his crossbow, striking one of the Varags in the arm. Frankie and Wencis quickly followed their companions over the low wall and into the room.
A flurry of arrows was the response from the far side of the room. None of them found their marks and the shafts snapped against the stone statues and the wall.
As Celtir ran to the far side, he felt sharp objects scattered within the straw piercing the souls of his boots but was able to safely make it through without injury. His arrow struck one of the Varags in the leg. Frankie ran up to the closest and slashed the creature with his axe, sorely wounding it. Wencis’ hammer glanced off the creature’s armor but his Soul Spark was able to drop the creature with a blast of energy.
Celtir mumbled a quick prayer and a morning star appeared and struck at the Varag that was in the back of the room. Bootsy climbed up into the nearest sarcophagus and fired his crossbow. The bolt struck one of the creatures and Wencis was there to finish it with his mystical war hammer.
The only remaining creature moved quickly. It ran up and slashed Frankie and then moved back near the stream of water that ran from the falls and washed over the stairs to the north. Celtir’s spiritual morning star followed the Varag closely and struck when it could.
Frankie and Wencis closed the distance quickly and each struck their target, though the creature’s skills in battle ensured the injuries were only minor. Celtir fired away with his bow whenever he saw an opening.
Finding itself cornered and apparently unwilling to descend the slippery stairs, the creature grabbed a potion bottle from its belt. Wencis tried to take advantage of this distracting action and struck at the creature while Frankie tried to strike the bottle from its hand, but both attacks failed. The Varag quickly drank the contents and took up his blade with newfound strength. Frankie and Wencis both struck again, this time each struck the creature on opposite sides of its body. The creature’s blade slashed Frankie across the torso. Frankie then winced as he saw a familiar looking vial fly past his shoulder and strike the Varag a glancing blow, splashing acid over Frankie and Wencis as well. The two of them gritted their teeth and vented their anger on the creature before them.
Sorely wounded, the creature took out another potion but this time Frankie was able to smash the vial out of the creature’s hand. The creature’s anger turned to surprise as two mystical bolts of energy flew between Wencis and Frankie, striking the Varag in the head. The creature finally dropped to the ground.
Wencis turned to see Bootsy standing behind them, putting away his new wand. “Now why didn’t you go with the wand before, instead of dousing us all with acid?”
Bootsy looked incredulous. “It only had six charges to start with,” he stated, as if that would explain everything. The others just shook their heads and turned to investigate the room.
Into the Web
Gathering their loot and placing much of it into Bootsy’s new Haversack that he had found near the cots, they turned to the task of descending the water covered stairs. Beyond was a slick ledge, the waterfall on one side of it, a deep pit on the other. Someone had driven spikes into the ledge along the eastern edge and a rope had been threaded through the loops in their tops forming a banister of sorts. After much discussion they decided they needed an additional safety rope, just to be sure. Working together they were able to drag two of the statues to the top of the stairs to act as an anchor. They tied one end of a rope to the statues and the other around Celtir.
Moving cautiously down the stairs the words “bull rush” kept passing through Celtir's mind for some reason. As he reached the bottom he heard a voice from the waterfall, “So many visitors this day.” A ruggedly handsome man stepped out of the falls, clad in a shirt of shimmering mail. His silvery hair wasn’t wet, but it cascaded over his shoulders in ringlets. A trim beard rounded out his face, accented by a silver chain around his neck shaped like an acorn. Silvered axes hung from his belt and his intense blue eyes focused on Celtir, his jaw set. “Tell me, why came you here?”
Celtir found it challenging to be diplomatic while keeping his balance on a slippery ledge next to a fifty foot pit, but he did his best. “We pursue a band of evil tomb raiders that have infiltrated this place and seek to steal its treasures.”
The man seemed to consider for a moment before answering, “Listen, the ones of whom you speak have preceded you into the tomb, though they will almost certainly be destroyed. The Betrayer is compelled to destroy them, if the foul creature in the next room does not.”
“Who is this betrayer you speak of?” Celtir asked.
“”Why, the one who betrayed the king whose tomb this is,” the man replied, as if this should be common knowledge.
“What can you tell me of the creature in the next room?”
At this, the man's countenance grew angry, “A large spider has made its home in the next room. It comes and goes as it pleases, I am unable to stop it. It is an abomination and must be destroyed. If you pledge to do this, I shall help you all safely past these falls.”
Celtir, a true representative of the tenets of Solonor, the Elven god of war, did not even hesitate in his reply, “It will be done.”
One by one, the fey water guardian, named Sigur, helped each of the companions across. Leera was last to go and as they neared the middle of the water covered ledge, she leaned in, saying something to him they could not hear. The companions could see him smile, nod and then quickly whisk Leera up to what they could only presume was the top of the waterfall. Only Bootsy expressed any disappointment, “Ah well, no more free identification of magic items.”
Sigur came over as they made ready to open the door, “I do know this. Weapons touched by virtue can harm the spider most easily.”
“Good to know,” said Bootsy who then turned to his companions. “Anyone here have an aligned weapon or the ability to create one?”
Wencis was the only one to raise his hand.
“Aye, that’s about what I thought. Well, let’s get this over with.”
“Wait a few moments more, I wish to give us all the blessing of Solonor and enchant my weapon,” Celtir said. He then murmured a couple of quick prayers before indicating to Frankie to open the door.
Dust choked the air in this large, open room. Webs covered the walls, but they could see the gleam of their glasslike surfaces in a few clear patches. The webs also blanketed the walls to the south and covered a large statue in the center of the room. It was hard to make out the features but it appeared to be a man sitting on a throne. There was a high balcony to the south. Bootsy stepped to the front, “Right, let’s see if I can clean this place up a little.”
Walking a short distance into the room, he raised his hands to burn away the webs. Just as the spell went off, he noticed movement behind the statue as something shuffled toward him. As he shouted a warning to the others, a swarm of tiny spider boiled forth from the burning webs and swarmed over him. He felt many tiny bites from the creatures but was able to keep his head. “Get the other creature, I’ve got these bastards!” he shouted to his companions.
Frankie rushed into the room and around the statue, where he saw a horrible sight. It was a human shaped creature wrapped in webs, its skin rippling as if many tiny creatures squirmed inside of it. Undeterred, Frankie ran up to it and promptly cut it in half. As it dropped, its body seemed to lose its shape and it released another mass of swarming red spiders.
Wencis and his Soul Spark stepped into the room. He threw his hammer at the first swarm, smashing a number of spiders, while Celtir threw a vial of holy water at the swarm to little or no effect.
Bootsy took a step back to get out of the swarm, then cast forth a fan of flames once again, destroying the first swarm. Wencis worked his way along the room to the south near the balcony, throwing his hammer at the second swarm. Frankie was unable to strike effectively with his axe as the swarm flowed over him. He felt the tiny bites and though he was able to resist the sickening effects of having a swarm of spiders crawl all over him, he felt the poison of the creatures tear at his very soul. As he ran back to stand next to Wencis, he felt cold, as if the darkness of the grave had enveloped his heart, the very spark of his life, within its grasp.
Celtir worked his way over to confront the swarm, sending forth a beam of energy to burn at the creatures. The spiders swarmed over him, nauseating him as they climbed quickly up his body and over his face, trying to crawl into his mouth and nose. Bootsy, seeing the sputtering flames burning away the webs at Celtir's feet, quickly thought of a solution. In retrospect it may not have been the best solution, but the demands of the battlefield sometimes call for desperate measures.
The flask smashed into Celtir's back, soaking him and the spiders with oil, which was quickly ignited by the flames at his feet. Still retching, Celtir backed away from the swarm, looking for a place to stop, drop and roll... and perhaps throw up a little more.
The swarm moved across the room, covering Frankie once again, though his Dwarven fortitude won out against the effects of the spiders this time. Celtir’s hammer blow and the dieing flames of the remaining oil were enough to disperse the last of the swarm.
Celtir, figuratively and literally still smoldering and smoking, gave Bootsy a tired look as he tried to spit the taste of bile from his mouth, “I don’t think I can bring myself to thank you for that one.”
The companions collected themselves and proceeded to search the downstairs area, though Frankie and Wencis contributed by watching the stairs up to the balcony. All the flames had burned away much of the webs and Bootsy was able to get a good look at the statue. While there was a passing resemblance to the king’s statue on the hill, this mans hands and feet were chained to the throne. Unsure of what this meant, he decided to climb up onto the statues lap. Celtir searched through four sarcophagi in the northeast corner but found them all empty.
“Well, that spider has to be here somewhere, let’s see if we can flush him out,” Bootsy said with a grin as he pulled out more oil and began lobbing it up onto the balcony. For the fourth vial, he tore a piece of cloth from his bandoleer and stuffed it into the top of the flask as a wick. “Everyone ready?” he asked.
Frankie, noting that the cold feeling had finally left him, nodded grimly and raised his axe. The others indicated their readiness as well as Bootsy checked to see that his crossbow was loaded. Motioning the torch bearer over, he then lit the wick and threw the flask.
The flames spread quickly and almost immediately a large spider appeared at the top of the stairs, pieces of mottled gray chitin flaking off as it moved. The spider didn’t seem to notice as Bootsy’s bolt struck it a glancing blow. Wencis quickly ran up the stairs, striking with his hammer. Bolts and arrows from the others flew up toward the spider, though most seemed ineffective. The spider bit Wencis on the shoulder, causing the same cold feeling that Frankie had experienced earlier. Wencis and his Soul Spark both struck again as the others continued to fire arrows at the large beast. The spider’s fangs tore into Wencis once more and knowing he was close to death, he quickly decided now was the time to retreat. Carefully backing away, he moved as far away from the terrible spider as he could.
As the spider tried to pursue Wencis, Frankie stepped in to block its advance. He was happier now that he was finally able to strike at it with his axe, a weapon he felt infinitely more comfortable with then the short bow he had been using. Hacking with all his strength, he saw his strikes didn’t cleave as deeply as he thought they should. The tough spider struck back, its fangs piercing Frankie’s armor, but the stout dwarf resisted the effects of the poison.
Wencis worked his way over toward Celtir, who was busy firing arrow after arrow at the large creature. Bootsy, finally growing weary of seeing his bolts glance off the spider’s hard chitin, took out his wand. The bolts of energy tore into the spider from behind.
Frankie's incredible fortitude allowed him to hold the line while the others attacked with abandon from a distance. After what seemed like an eternity, the combination of axe, Magic Missiles and arrows finally destroyed the vile creature.
After the combat had finally ended, Wencis finally was able to get Celtir’s attention. “I could use whatever healing you could spare, my friend.”
“Unfortunately, I have used up my most powerful prayers, but I do have these scrolls I purchased in town,” Celtir answered. Digging out the scrolls, Celtir read from one of them and placed his hand on Wencis.
“Aaahhhrg!” The pain caught Wencis completely off guard as the magic of the healing prayer seemed to burn his flesh. He was so shocked by the pain, he almost struck Celtir in retaliation, until he saw the surprised expression on Celtir’s face as well and knew it was not his doing. “The poison! The cold feeling! Now I see. Hopefully it will wear off as it did for Frankie and you can try to heal me once more.”
While they waited, Bootsy explored the balcony, finding the corpse of a Hobgoblin, some weapons and a skull that was still wearing some type of phylactery. Placing the loot into a pile he cast Detect Magic. A potion he could not identify and the phylactery were the only things that were magical. Putting the rest into his haversack, he debated what to do with the phylactery. “Wencis, could you check to see if this is evil?” He asked, holding it up. Wencis concentrated for a moment then shook his head. Bootsy shrugged then put it on. Nothing happened. He tried running, jumping, even thinking to see if he felt smarter or wiser. “Hey Frankie, do I look more commanding or physically attractive to you? You know, like I have a greater presence?”
Frankie just laughed and shook his head, “Crazy Gnome, you’ve been without a woman far too long.”
Shaking his head in frustration Bootsy called the others together to examine the only exit, a door on the balcony that had been almost covered in webs before the oil had burned them away. Wencis, the cold feeling finally having left him, was successfully healed by Celtir while Frankie opened the door.
As they entered the square room beyond, the room lit up. They were able to discern a winding stair to the southeast before the walls seemed to paint themselves with rich images. The magic painting depicted a spring day on a high, green hill, making it seem as if the sun reached this room as well as the green slope. They could almost smell the apple blossoms and awakening flowers. People in fine clothes stood around the hill and it was as if they were among them. Central in the scene was a tall, raven-haired man dressed in shining plate armor, kneeling before a blond man and a red-haired woman, each wearing golden crowns. The image faded and the light diminished but did not go out.
Bootsy quickly put on the phylactery and looked around the room, but was disappointed when nothing more happened. He took it off.
As the companions moved down the stairs, Bootsy was disappointed once more by the absence of a railing and seemed reluctant to walk down the stairs in a normal fashion.
Reaching the bottom, they saw gleaming doors to the northeast and southwest engraved with fiery grinning skulls. Celtir felt they had some religious significance, though he could not place them. In the southeast corner another stair descended. As they took all this in, the walls seemed to paint themselves with images once again. They saw the same hill as they had in the previous vision, but it was now covered in brown grass and flames were leaping into the sky off in the distance. The dark haired man in shining armor wielded two curved swords and battled howling goblinoids and baying wolves. Beside him stood the blond king armed with a black longsword. Light sparkled on the blade and the kings crowned helm. The red haired woman held her ground behind and between the two, her staff held aloft as lightning struck her foes. The companion’s hair stood on end and their skin tingled as if electricity were really in the air. Then, the image faded and they saw the room as it had been.
They moved to the door in the northeast and Frankie opened it. Four sarcophagi stood within, two along the south wall and two to the east. The lids showed graven images of trapped people on them, one different person for each lid. It seemed as if each lid was a prison. The imprisoned people were depicted as if they were crying out, their desperate eyes set with rubies. To the north, a huge mirror hung on the wall.
“Rubies, eh,” said Bootsy. “Too bad. We ain’t
in’ with no mirror.”
They closed the door and moved back to the door in the southwest. Within, a musty putrescence pervaded the air. Two statues of warriors here looked stern, even angry as they brandished their spears southward. There were four standing sarcophagi along the southern wall, two sealed ones flanking two others that had been smashed open, their lids lying broken on the ground before them. Each remaining lid had the graven image of a person on it. Again each looked as though they were imprisoned, each face screaming in pain, wide eyes set with rubies.
They heard the sound of steel clearing its sheath and a skeletal figure in full plate stepped out of the eastern coffin with a hiss. Its eyes burned under its helm, “Blood and vengeance,” it whispered.
Then a bloated rotting figure raised its arms and shambled forward from the other open coffin. A gurgling moan escaped from its flabby lips.
Bootsy slammed the door shut.
Celtir opened it once more and stepped inside, invoking the power of his deity. The creature in full plate hissed and moved to the back of the chamber averting his eyes from the radiant power of Solonor. The bloated creature shuffled his way up the stairs and struck Celtir across the chest. Wencis stepped in next to him and his Soul Spark flew above as they both struck the disgusting creature with solid blows and burning bolts. Bootsy used even more energy from the wand, further wounding the creature. Frankie fired into the room with his bow, but was unable to find his mark. The hideous creature struck back at Wencis, but his thick armor deflected both of the creature’s strong blows. Celtir struck the creature with his morning star and once more, both Wencis and his Soul Spark landed crushing blows, driving the creature to the ground.
Almost as one, Celtir and Wencis charged the other creature that was cowering in the back of the room. They pounded on it with all their strength, though the creature seemed resistant to their blows. The creature lashed back with its fist, the effects of the turning broken by Celtir’s charge. Frankie also charged in, his axe slashing the creature. Though the creature proved to be tough, soaking up a great amount of damage, it did not stand long against their determined assault.
Bootsy had started prying the rubies out of the sarcophagi before the combat had even ended. When he had all eight he turned to his tired companions. “Right. Let’s go have a chat with the water boy again.”
End of Session 5.
