High Cleric
First Post
Celtir's descrip - black haired elf, with a chain shirt and bow. Probably looks a little stern, tho not too uptight (I hope!). Holy Symbol of Sollonor (a silver arrow?), hangs around his neck.
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The VOIDRUNNER'S CODEX is coming! Explore new worlds, fight oppressive empires, fend off fearsome aliens, and wield deadly psionics with this comprehensive boxed set expansion for 5E and A5E!
Barrow of the Forgotten Story Hour - Complete! 8/13/08
- Thread starter Abciximab
- Start date
High Cleric
First Post
mundinironhand said:
But that would mean you have to use one of the Core books for your PC! OMG!
High Cleric
First Post
Wow, your right! Someone actually read that?
Peteinmaine
First Post
Bootsy
Bootsy was modelled on a crazy leprechaun sorceror. dark red hair and beard, the kind of mustache you could twirl in your fingers while cackling maniacally. So although he's gnomish, think more lucky charms, except instead of wearing green he's rockin' out in khakis and a bandolier full of stuff to throw. Definitely a stupid hat, and obnoxious boots. the crossbow was incidental he rolled up with enough oomph to be good with the thing and my proficiency to roll crits against other DMs is staggering.
Bootsy was modelled on a crazy leprechaun sorceror. dark red hair and beard, the kind of mustache you could twirl in your fingers while cackling maniacally. So although he's gnomish, think more lucky charms, except instead of wearing green he's rockin' out in khakis and a bandolier full of stuff to throw. Definitely a stupid hat, and obnoxious boots. the crossbow was incidental he rolled up with enough oomph to be good with the thing and my proficiency to roll crits against other DMs is staggering.
Announcement.
I am sorry to announce to both our readers that we have had a delay of game due to real life issues so there will be no update this week. Three people out of 6 called out for no good reason. One said something about a new baby and another had a term paper. I hope they get their priorities sorted out.
Seriously though, congratulations to Frankie’s player on the birth of his new son. ( I haven’t heard the name yet, this is his 2nd child I believe).
I hope to see all these slackers at the next game scheduled for Wednesday the 30th. An update will follow soon after.
I am sorry to announce to both our readers that we have had a delay of game due to real life issues so there will be no update this week. Three people out of 6 called out for no good reason. One said something about a new baby and another had a term paper. I hope they get their priorities sorted out.
Seriously though, congratulations to Frankie’s player on the birth of his new son. ( I haven’t heard the name yet, this is his 2nd child I believe).
I hope to see all these slackers at the next game scheduled for Wednesday the 30th. An update will follow soon after.
NarlethDrider
First Post
[wee orphan voice]more, sir?[/wee orphan voice]
Bootsy – 5th/1st Level Gnome Sorcerer/Fighter.
Celtir – 6th Level Elven Cleric.
Frankie – 6th Level Dwarven Barbarian.
Tristan – 5th Level Human Paladin.
Wencis – 5th Level Aasimar Incarnate.
As the companions came back downstairs from preparing spells and equipment for the trip to the Necromancers Spike, they saw a familiar face sitting at one of the tables. Bruthwol Coalhauler smiled as he spread his arms in greeting.
“Greetings, friends! You made it safely, I see. Have you had any success finding what you seek? If there is anything you need to buy or sell, I’m sure I could be of assistance. With the resources of the Bazaar at my disposal, I could find many things that you might find useful. There would be a ‘finder’s fee’ of course,” he adds with a wink. “If there is anything I can help you with, you have but to ask and I’ll do what I can. Please join me if you will, you can tell me of your experiences in Pedestal.”
Thinking of things they may need or want for their expedition to the Necromancers Spike they accepted Bruthwol’s invitation and seated themselves around his table.
Their business with Bruthwol completed, the companions left the Inn and headed east down Matron Row to where the unblocked East Gate allowed entrance to the Noble Quarter. Passing through the gate the ruined towering mansions were revealed. Most were decaying and covered with opportunistic fungi.
Traveling just a block through the ruined quarter they came upon the massive column of unbelievable size that was the Necromancer’s Spike – the heart of the city, its highest point. Looking up, the companions saw light glimmering all around the curving sides of the towering natural formation, as if from hundreds of tiny windows. As they approached the entrance at the base of the column, they could see the tiny patches of light were clearly discrete patches of luminescent fungi.
As the companions approached the entryway, Tristan checked to make sure the obsidian ring was in place on one of his fingers. “Remember, I should enter first. The magic that wards the entrance may not be obvious.”
Thick stone doors that must have once secured the entry lay in piles of gravel and small boulders all around the entrance. As they approached, a bulky male Drow in a shining breastplate stepped out from behind a pillar. He glared at the companions and waved his serrated scimitar, his shield at the ready.
“Get gone from here, or we’ll use your skins for our cloaks!” He snarled. “House Dusklorn claims the Necromancer’s Spike!”
Deeper in the tunnel, they saw another Drow covering them with an ornate longbow.
The companions stopped, unsure of how to proceed. As Celtir tried to think of what approach to use diplomatically, Bootsy stepped behind some rubble and cast two spells in quick succession. The first rendered him invisible, the second created a strong electrical charge on his hands.
Moving as quietly as he could, he snuck up to the first Drow, who had grown even more suspicious of the party. Just as he was about to signal his companion to attack, he heard the sound of the rocks in front of him shifting even as he saw a brief spark discharge on his armor. The spell washed harmlessly over the Drow and he was only mildly surprised to see the gnome standing before him.
Bootsy quickly backpedaled to put some distance between him and the Drow, drawing his trusty crossbow as he went. The Drow slashed him with his scimitar as he retreated causing a minor wound. At first Bootsy was unconcerned as he brought his crossbow up for the shot, but then noticed that he suddenly felt drowsy and understood that the enemy’s weapons must be poisoned. He shrugged off the feeling and fired his crossbow, his bolt creasing the Drow’s cheek. The remaining companions surged forward to attack and the first Drow was quickly cut down. The Second fired his bow, piercing Tristan’s leg. Wincing at the pain and shaking his head to clear his mind from the sluggishness that followed, Tristan charged forward and slashed the Drow with Merthuvial. His companions crowded into the narrow entryway to assist where they could and the second Drow only managed to attack Tristan once more before he was dropped in a flurry of blades and arrows.
The companions made a quick search of the bodies and the surrounding area but found little beyond the Drow’s equipment.
Looking deeper into the tunnel, they saw a green haze filled the next chamber, giving it a strangely aquatic look. The floor was tiled with slabs the color of bone and the walls were crowded with what appeared to be hundreds of vault doors, each bearing the crude likeness of a humanoid. Drifts of gray dust were mounded here and there, but were piled thickly in each corner. A chill radiated from the chamber that cut right through the companion’s cloaks and seemed to portend death.
Tristan gave a wry smile, “Then again, the warded room may be rather obvious. We should decide on a course of action before we enter. Es Sarch warned us that the protection offered by the ring only lasts a short time each day.”
Examining the room without entering, the companions noticed only two exits, one on either of the side walls. Following a brief discussion it was decided to go left. While making sure all was ready for their advance, Bootsy Slumped to the floor. Used to Bootsy’s antics the companions waited for a moment to see what he might do. When he made no move to rise, Wencis bent over to check on him. “He’s out. He must have finally succumbed to the Drow poison. He’ll wake eventually, but it may be a few hours.”
Another brief discussion and it was decided they should rest once they were beyond the warded room. Double checking everything once again, Frankie lifted the gnome up onto his shoulders and they gathered at the entryway.
Moving quickly through the room the companions opened the northern door and crowded through into a narrow hall that offered a number of choices. Four doors were equally spaced down the length of the northern wall and, counting the door they had entered through, two doors stood at either end of the southern wall.
As Frankie set Bootsy down, Wencis moved to the first of the four doors and opened it while Celtir opened the second. Beyond each door was a small room, its walls lined with shelves, nooks and pedestals upon which rested the dusty relics of a life spent in the study of magic and death. The first held preserved body parts of rare beasts. The second held what may have been exhausted magic items, dusty wands and staves now nothing more than sticks. Celtir smiled, “It’s a good thing Bootsy is already out, the sense of frustration at seeing so many expended magic items would probably send him right over the edge.”
Making sure Bootsy would be in the first room, the companions split into two groups to rest in the two rooms. Most of the time was uneventful, though in the first hour the companions heard distant screams and cries that seemed to come from further in the Spike. In the fourth hour, mere minutes before Bootsy finally awoke, Tristan felt a strange sensation that he could not describe, though the feeling was fleeting and seemed to have no lasting effect on him.
When Bootsy finally awoke he seemed back to his normal self, though he was a little grumpy at what he felt was a display of weakness in front of his companions. The companions quickly ushered him past the second door and down toward the end of the hall. The third door revealed a similar room with various religious icons and paraphernalia spread throughout the room. Always interested in displays of religion, Celtir entered and gathered a few of the relics noting they seemed to cover most of the common religions of the world and even a few that were uncommon.
Wencis opened the fourth door and saw cobwebbed niches filled with dusty skulls and bones of humanoid creatures. Before he could take more than one step into the room, the door made a sound as if it were opening once again, even though the already open door did not budge. The translucent shade of a gaunt male Drow seemed to step right through Wencis and into the room, his black staff clicking against the floor as he entered. As Wencis watched, the shade removed a cloak and hung it on the wall near the door, and then he abruptly cocked his head and looked upwards, mouthing words silently and looking angry. The figure turned and rushed from the room, disappearing near the doorway. Wencis noticed the cloak still hung near the door.
He entered the room and cautiously lifted the cloak from its peg. He turned to Bootsy, “Is this magical?”
Bootsy murmured a quick incantation and then gazed at the cloak, “Yep.” He then cast his gaze around the rest of the room, making sure to include the ceiling in his scrutiny, but saw nothing of interest. “But nothing else is,” he said, shaking his head as he left the room.
Seeing no other options, the companions turned to the door on the opposite wall. Soft illumination from a candelabrum full of black candles that sat in the center of a huge stone table lit the chamber beyond the door. Ten ironwork chairs, the most elaborate of which was at the head of the table to the north, surrounded the slab. All the places were set. Dust and cobwebs covered the whole scene.
A quick examination revealed nothing of value and showed the candle flame was magical in nature. Noting the double doors on the southern wall of the room, the companions chose to go through a single door in the western wall.
Covered in cobwebs and dust, this small room was empty except for rows of blanket covered beds.
“Guess we should have explored a little further when we were looking for a place to rest,” Wencis laughed. A quick search uncovered nothing else of interest.
Returning to the dining room, the companions opened the double doors into another hall that continued south where it appeared to open into a room to the east. The corridor also went to the west where there appeared to be a number of doors on either side of the corridor.
Following the corridor to the south, the companions found it opened into what appeared to be a small kitchen. A stone counter lined the southern wall and a leering gargoyles head looked downward, mouth open, into a black sink at the counter’s end to the east. Worn smooth in places, a long stone table occupied the center of the room. Above it hung a web of wrought iron, upon which dangled iron pots and utensils. Two huge fireplaces, each furnished with iron wire shelves and rods to set or suspend pots on, were set into the walls – one to the east and the other in an alcove to the north. Soot and ash were still piled in their bottoms. A pantry loomed in the northwest corner, its shelves still held a few shiny dishes, possibly of gold or brass. Unlike the musty areas they had explored so far, this room smelled vaguely of death.
Bootsy, finding the idea of exploring a kitchen rather boring, started to wander back down toward the western hall to inspect one of the more interesting doors. Celtir and Wencis entered the kitchen to see what they could find, while Tristan and Frankie stayed in the hall, waiting for the first sign of trouble. They didn’t have long to wait. Celtir turned to examine the stone counter and sink as Wencis went to the table in the center of the room. Before he could touch anything, he noticed five tiny, vaguely humanoid accumulations of ash, bone and teeth dart from the fireplaces. Their leg-like appendages made a repulsive pattering sound as they surged toward Celtir and Wencis with alarming speed. Sooty dust they had stirred up lent a bitter tang to the air.
Wencis lashed out with his hammer wounding one as the three of tiny creatures crawled right up to him and bit at his legs. Holding his bow, Celtir was unable to get a bearing on the two that attacked him. Frankie and Tristan ran to help, each killing one of the horrid creatures that crawled on either of their companions. Hearing the sounds of combat, Bootsy ran back down the hall to see what was going on. With the full force of the companions weapons and magic brought to bear on the tiny creatures they were quickly killed, but not before Wencis and Celtir were both bitten by the tiny undead.
As Wencis went to examine the pantry, Celtir showed Tristan his leg where the creature had bitten him, “Does this look infected to you?” Tristan just shrugged then they both looked about as the stench of rot suddenly grew stronger in the room.
With a low moan, the pantry shelves sprouted lashing pseudopods tipped with terrible claws. A gnashing maw filled with yellow fangs and viscous saliva appeared between the grasping arms. One of the arms struck Wencis, who found himself stuck to the disgusting creature by some slimy adhesive.
Bootsy had once again started to wander to the far end of the hall. To get his attention Celtir let out a yell, “Mimic!”
Wencis quickly corrected him, “Undead Mimic!”
The companions converged on the creature as it started to crush Wencis in its grasp. Wencis reached out with his soul energy gauntlets, burning at the creatures flesh as the weapons of his companions sliced into the creature, the adhesive threatening to pull the weapons from their hands. Once again it was Frankie’s greataxe that finished their foe. As the creature died, Wencis was finally able to pull himself free of the creature as the adhesive seemed to break down.
Having encountered so much trouble in such a small room, the companions were hesitant to continue their search. They finally got up the nerve and finished the search uneventfully. They found nothing more than pots, pans and utensils.
While the others were examining the kitchen Bootsy had finally made it to the two doors at the far end of the western hall. One he was certain opened into the warded room so he opened the other. A wave of cold washed over him and his breath turned to steam as the door opened. Shelves all along the walls held limbless bodies – turned blue-white but preserved by the cold – with their heads still attached.
Tristan came up to look just as Bootsy was finishing his examination. He frowned in disgust and anger at what he saw, “What in the name of all that is holy is this Place? Who would commit such an atrocity? I would destroy all that is here if I didn’t think it would be even more disrespectful to the bodies of these poor souls!” He knelt with Merthuvial before him and murmured a prayer for the souls of the dead and then he quickly stood, turned and left the room without looking back.
Bootsy joined them in the middle of the hall where there was a door to the south. “Well, this is the only door on this level we haven’t tried.”
Wencis opened the door. The large chamber curved outward at the south end. Within that curve were gradual stairs that lead to an altar of black stone. The statue of a spider the size of a big bear, seemingly pieced together from bones and fangs, stood astride the altar. From the altar a gossamer carpet of webs stretched down the stairs and fifteen feet into the room, enshrouded a pedestal in the middle of the room.
Bootsy pulled out one of his wands and grinned, “This looks like a job for… Fireball!” A small bead the size of a pea flew from the end of the wand and blossomed into a ball of fire that covered most of the chamber, burning away the webs while leaving the stonework unharmed. After waiting a bit to let some of the smoke from the burning webs clear, the companions entered.
Tristan stepped up to what was now revealed to be a large font set atop a low pedestal. “Water. I wonder what would happen if I drank some?”
Celtir quickly stepped forward, “Don’t. It’s probably unholy water which, if you’re lucky, will just make you sick.” With that he bent down and pushed the font over, sending the dark water splashing across the floor where it seeped away between the stones of the floor.
Before he could even stand up straight, a volley of spikes launched from the bone spider, striking Celtir in the shoulder. There was a prolonged crack and a sinister series of clicks as the monstrous bone statue atop the altar suddenly rose up and stood on splayed legs. Mandibles formed of huge fangs clicked together as the horror lurched to life.
Wencis was first to act, launching his hammer at the creature and sending his Soul Spark forward to attack. His hammer knocked chips of bone from the creature and the energy burst from the Soul Spark burned the creature. The construct bit the Soul Spark, tearing at the energy that formed it. As it did this there was a terrible scuttling noise as shiny black spiders that had fiery eyes began to pour from between the seams in the bone spider’s construction. They arranged themselves into a mass of legs and fangs that started to churn toward the companions.
Bootsy shouted, “I got ‘em!” And a fan of fire from his outstretched hands turned the swarm of spiders to ash. The edge of the fire had washed over the bone spider but it seemed unscathed.
Frankie and Tristan ran up to the bone spider and their weapons knocked away more bone chips as Celtir cast a spell that sent a burst of positive energy into the creature. The spider lashed out at Frankie, sinking its fangs deep into his leg.
The companions struck back, Bootsy and Celtir, having seen how ineffective their magic had been, switched to their bows and Wencis continued to launch his hammer at the creature as his Soul Spark fired bursts of energy that seemed to do little damage to the construct.
Frankie and Tristan held the line, their blades slashing at the creature as it attacked over and over, leaving both of them covered in their own blood. They were a little irritated when Bootsy switched to vials of acid when he saw his bolts glancing off without even leaving a mark on the creature. Then they were amazed to find some of their wounds healed when Celtir raised his holy symbol while calling upon Solonor and a burst of positive energy filled the chamber.
Finally Tristan struck a telling blow. Merthuvial split the seam that made up the head of the creature and the spider seemed to wobble then stop for a moment. It dropped as its animating force seemed to falter and there was a cracking sound. Suddenly the creature literally blew apart, sending sharp fragments of bone throughout the room, wounding all of the companions.
Bootsy looked around the room and saw the effects of the blast on his companions. He turned to Celtir, “Can you do that holy thing again?”
Celtir smiled and raised his holy symbol once again.
Celtir – 6th Level Elven Cleric.
Frankie – 6th Level Dwarven Barbarian.
Tristan – 5th Level Human Paladin.
Wencis – 5th Level Aasimar Incarnate.
As the companions came back downstairs from preparing spells and equipment for the trip to the Necromancers Spike, they saw a familiar face sitting at one of the tables. Bruthwol Coalhauler smiled as he spread his arms in greeting.
“Greetings, friends! You made it safely, I see. Have you had any success finding what you seek? If there is anything you need to buy or sell, I’m sure I could be of assistance. With the resources of the Bazaar at my disposal, I could find many things that you might find useful. There would be a ‘finder’s fee’ of course,” he adds with a wink. “If there is anything I can help you with, you have but to ask and I’ll do what I can. Please join me if you will, you can tell me of your experiences in Pedestal.”
Thinking of things they may need or want for their expedition to the Necromancers Spike they accepted Bruthwol’s invitation and seated themselves around his table.
Into the Spike
Their business with Bruthwol completed, the companions left the Inn and headed east down Matron Row to where the unblocked East Gate allowed entrance to the Noble Quarter. Passing through the gate the ruined towering mansions were revealed. Most were decaying and covered with opportunistic fungi.
Traveling just a block through the ruined quarter they came upon the massive column of unbelievable size that was the Necromancer’s Spike – the heart of the city, its highest point. Looking up, the companions saw light glimmering all around the curving sides of the towering natural formation, as if from hundreds of tiny windows. As they approached the entrance at the base of the column, they could see the tiny patches of light were clearly discrete patches of luminescent fungi.
As the companions approached the entryway, Tristan checked to make sure the obsidian ring was in place on one of his fingers. “Remember, I should enter first. The magic that wards the entrance may not be obvious.”
Thick stone doors that must have once secured the entry lay in piles of gravel and small boulders all around the entrance. As they approached, a bulky male Drow in a shining breastplate stepped out from behind a pillar. He glared at the companions and waved his serrated scimitar, his shield at the ready.
“Get gone from here, or we’ll use your skins for our cloaks!” He snarled. “House Dusklorn claims the Necromancer’s Spike!”
Deeper in the tunnel, they saw another Drow covering them with an ornate longbow.
The companions stopped, unsure of how to proceed. As Celtir tried to think of what approach to use diplomatically, Bootsy stepped behind some rubble and cast two spells in quick succession. The first rendered him invisible, the second created a strong electrical charge on his hands.
Moving as quietly as he could, he snuck up to the first Drow, who had grown even more suspicious of the party. Just as he was about to signal his companion to attack, he heard the sound of the rocks in front of him shifting even as he saw a brief spark discharge on his armor. The spell washed harmlessly over the Drow and he was only mildly surprised to see the gnome standing before him.
Bootsy quickly backpedaled to put some distance between him and the Drow, drawing his trusty crossbow as he went. The Drow slashed him with his scimitar as he retreated causing a minor wound. At first Bootsy was unconcerned as he brought his crossbow up for the shot, but then noticed that he suddenly felt drowsy and understood that the enemy’s weapons must be poisoned. He shrugged off the feeling and fired his crossbow, his bolt creasing the Drow’s cheek. The remaining companions surged forward to attack and the first Drow was quickly cut down. The Second fired his bow, piercing Tristan’s leg. Wincing at the pain and shaking his head to clear his mind from the sluggishness that followed, Tristan charged forward and slashed the Drow with Merthuvial. His companions crowded into the narrow entryway to assist where they could and the second Drow only managed to attack Tristan once more before he was dropped in a flurry of blades and arrows.
The companions made a quick search of the bodies and the surrounding area but found little beyond the Drow’s equipment.
Looking deeper into the tunnel, they saw a green haze filled the next chamber, giving it a strangely aquatic look. The floor was tiled with slabs the color of bone and the walls were crowded with what appeared to be hundreds of vault doors, each bearing the crude likeness of a humanoid. Drifts of gray dust were mounded here and there, but were piled thickly in each corner. A chill radiated from the chamber that cut right through the companion’s cloaks and seemed to portend death.
Tristan gave a wry smile, “Then again, the warded room may be rather obvious. We should decide on a course of action before we enter. Es Sarch warned us that the protection offered by the ring only lasts a short time each day.”
Examining the room without entering, the companions noticed only two exits, one on either of the side walls. Following a brief discussion it was decided to go left. While making sure all was ready for their advance, Bootsy Slumped to the floor. Used to Bootsy’s antics the companions waited for a moment to see what he might do. When he made no move to rise, Wencis bent over to check on him. “He’s out. He must have finally succumbed to the Drow poison. He’ll wake eventually, but it may be a few hours.”
Another brief discussion and it was decided they should rest once they were beyond the warded room. Double checking everything once again, Frankie lifted the gnome up onto his shoulders and they gathered at the entryway.
Moving quickly through the room the companions opened the northern door and crowded through into a narrow hall that offered a number of choices. Four doors were equally spaced down the length of the northern wall and, counting the door they had entered through, two doors stood at either end of the southern wall.
As Frankie set Bootsy down, Wencis moved to the first of the four doors and opened it while Celtir opened the second. Beyond each door was a small room, its walls lined with shelves, nooks and pedestals upon which rested the dusty relics of a life spent in the study of magic and death. The first held preserved body parts of rare beasts. The second held what may have been exhausted magic items, dusty wands and staves now nothing more than sticks. Celtir smiled, “It’s a good thing Bootsy is already out, the sense of frustration at seeing so many expended magic items would probably send him right over the edge.”
Making sure Bootsy would be in the first room, the companions split into two groups to rest in the two rooms. Most of the time was uneventful, though in the first hour the companions heard distant screams and cries that seemed to come from further in the Spike. In the fourth hour, mere minutes before Bootsy finally awoke, Tristan felt a strange sensation that he could not describe, though the feeling was fleeting and seemed to have no lasting effect on him.
When Bootsy finally awoke he seemed back to his normal self, though he was a little grumpy at what he felt was a display of weakness in front of his companions. The companions quickly ushered him past the second door and down toward the end of the hall. The third door revealed a similar room with various religious icons and paraphernalia spread throughout the room. Always interested in displays of religion, Celtir entered and gathered a few of the relics noting they seemed to cover most of the common religions of the world and even a few that were uncommon.
Wencis opened the fourth door and saw cobwebbed niches filled with dusty skulls and bones of humanoid creatures. Before he could take more than one step into the room, the door made a sound as if it were opening once again, even though the already open door did not budge. The translucent shade of a gaunt male Drow seemed to step right through Wencis and into the room, his black staff clicking against the floor as he entered. As Wencis watched, the shade removed a cloak and hung it on the wall near the door, and then he abruptly cocked his head and looked upwards, mouthing words silently and looking angry. The figure turned and rushed from the room, disappearing near the doorway. Wencis noticed the cloak still hung near the door.
He entered the room and cautiously lifted the cloak from its peg. He turned to Bootsy, “Is this magical?”
Bootsy murmured a quick incantation and then gazed at the cloak, “Yep.” He then cast his gaze around the rest of the room, making sure to include the ceiling in his scrutiny, but saw nothing of interest. “But nothing else is,” he said, shaking his head as he left the room.
Seeing no other options, the companions turned to the door on the opposite wall. Soft illumination from a candelabrum full of black candles that sat in the center of a huge stone table lit the chamber beyond the door. Ten ironwork chairs, the most elaborate of which was at the head of the table to the north, surrounded the slab. All the places were set. Dust and cobwebs covered the whole scene.
A quick examination revealed nothing of value and showed the candle flame was magical in nature. Noting the double doors on the southern wall of the room, the companions chose to go through a single door in the western wall.
Covered in cobwebs and dust, this small room was empty except for rows of blanket covered beds.
“Guess we should have explored a little further when we were looking for a place to rest,” Wencis laughed. A quick search uncovered nothing else of interest.
Returning to the dining room, the companions opened the double doors into another hall that continued south where it appeared to open into a room to the east. The corridor also went to the west where there appeared to be a number of doors on either side of the corridor.
Following the corridor to the south, the companions found it opened into what appeared to be a small kitchen. A stone counter lined the southern wall and a leering gargoyles head looked downward, mouth open, into a black sink at the counter’s end to the east. Worn smooth in places, a long stone table occupied the center of the room. Above it hung a web of wrought iron, upon which dangled iron pots and utensils. Two huge fireplaces, each furnished with iron wire shelves and rods to set or suspend pots on, were set into the walls – one to the east and the other in an alcove to the north. Soot and ash were still piled in their bottoms. A pantry loomed in the northwest corner, its shelves still held a few shiny dishes, possibly of gold or brass. Unlike the musty areas they had explored so far, this room smelled vaguely of death.
Bootsy, finding the idea of exploring a kitchen rather boring, started to wander back down toward the western hall to inspect one of the more interesting doors. Celtir and Wencis entered the kitchen to see what they could find, while Tristan and Frankie stayed in the hall, waiting for the first sign of trouble. They didn’t have long to wait. Celtir turned to examine the stone counter and sink as Wencis went to the table in the center of the room. Before he could touch anything, he noticed five tiny, vaguely humanoid accumulations of ash, bone and teeth dart from the fireplaces. Their leg-like appendages made a repulsive pattering sound as they surged toward Celtir and Wencis with alarming speed. Sooty dust they had stirred up lent a bitter tang to the air.
Wencis lashed out with his hammer wounding one as the three of tiny creatures crawled right up to him and bit at his legs. Holding his bow, Celtir was unable to get a bearing on the two that attacked him. Frankie and Tristan ran to help, each killing one of the horrid creatures that crawled on either of their companions. Hearing the sounds of combat, Bootsy ran back down the hall to see what was going on. With the full force of the companions weapons and magic brought to bear on the tiny creatures they were quickly killed, but not before Wencis and Celtir were both bitten by the tiny undead.
As Wencis went to examine the pantry, Celtir showed Tristan his leg where the creature had bitten him, “Does this look infected to you?” Tristan just shrugged then they both looked about as the stench of rot suddenly grew stronger in the room.
With a low moan, the pantry shelves sprouted lashing pseudopods tipped with terrible claws. A gnashing maw filled with yellow fangs and viscous saliva appeared between the grasping arms. One of the arms struck Wencis, who found himself stuck to the disgusting creature by some slimy adhesive.
Bootsy had once again started to wander to the far end of the hall. To get his attention Celtir let out a yell, “Mimic!”
Wencis quickly corrected him, “Undead Mimic!”
The companions converged on the creature as it started to crush Wencis in its grasp. Wencis reached out with his soul energy gauntlets, burning at the creatures flesh as the weapons of his companions sliced into the creature, the adhesive threatening to pull the weapons from their hands. Once again it was Frankie’s greataxe that finished their foe. As the creature died, Wencis was finally able to pull himself free of the creature as the adhesive seemed to break down.
Having encountered so much trouble in such a small room, the companions were hesitant to continue their search. They finally got up the nerve and finished the search uneventfully. They found nothing more than pots, pans and utensils.
While the others were examining the kitchen Bootsy had finally made it to the two doors at the far end of the western hall. One he was certain opened into the warded room so he opened the other. A wave of cold washed over him and his breath turned to steam as the door opened. Shelves all along the walls held limbless bodies – turned blue-white but preserved by the cold – with their heads still attached.
Tristan came up to look just as Bootsy was finishing his examination. He frowned in disgust and anger at what he saw, “What in the name of all that is holy is this Place? Who would commit such an atrocity? I would destroy all that is here if I didn’t think it would be even more disrespectful to the bodies of these poor souls!” He knelt with Merthuvial before him and murmured a prayer for the souls of the dead and then he quickly stood, turned and left the room without looking back.
Bootsy joined them in the middle of the hall where there was a door to the south. “Well, this is the only door on this level we haven’t tried.”
Wencis opened the door. The large chamber curved outward at the south end. Within that curve were gradual stairs that lead to an altar of black stone. The statue of a spider the size of a big bear, seemingly pieced together from bones and fangs, stood astride the altar. From the altar a gossamer carpet of webs stretched down the stairs and fifteen feet into the room, enshrouded a pedestal in the middle of the room.
Bootsy pulled out one of his wands and grinned, “This looks like a job for… Fireball!” A small bead the size of a pea flew from the end of the wand and blossomed into a ball of fire that covered most of the chamber, burning away the webs while leaving the stonework unharmed. After waiting a bit to let some of the smoke from the burning webs clear, the companions entered.
Tristan stepped up to what was now revealed to be a large font set atop a low pedestal. “Water. I wonder what would happen if I drank some?”
Celtir quickly stepped forward, “Don’t. It’s probably unholy water which, if you’re lucky, will just make you sick.” With that he bent down and pushed the font over, sending the dark water splashing across the floor where it seeped away between the stones of the floor.
Before he could even stand up straight, a volley of spikes launched from the bone spider, striking Celtir in the shoulder. There was a prolonged crack and a sinister series of clicks as the monstrous bone statue atop the altar suddenly rose up and stood on splayed legs. Mandibles formed of huge fangs clicked together as the horror lurched to life.
Wencis was first to act, launching his hammer at the creature and sending his Soul Spark forward to attack. His hammer knocked chips of bone from the creature and the energy burst from the Soul Spark burned the creature. The construct bit the Soul Spark, tearing at the energy that formed it. As it did this there was a terrible scuttling noise as shiny black spiders that had fiery eyes began to pour from between the seams in the bone spider’s construction. They arranged themselves into a mass of legs and fangs that started to churn toward the companions.
Bootsy shouted, “I got ‘em!” And a fan of fire from his outstretched hands turned the swarm of spiders to ash. The edge of the fire had washed over the bone spider but it seemed unscathed.
Frankie and Tristan ran up to the bone spider and their weapons knocked away more bone chips as Celtir cast a spell that sent a burst of positive energy into the creature. The spider lashed out at Frankie, sinking its fangs deep into his leg.
The companions struck back, Bootsy and Celtir, having seen how ineffective their magic had been, switched to their bows and Wencis continued to launch his hammer at the creature as his Soul Spark fired bursts of energy that seemed to do little damage to the construct.
Frankie and Tristan held the line, their blades slashing at the creature as it attacked over and over, leaving both of them covered in their own blood. They were a little irritated when Bootsy switched to vials of acid when he saw his bolts glancing off without even leaving a mark on the creature. Then they were amazed to find some of their wounds healed when Celtir raised his holy symbol while calling upon Solonor and a burst of positive energy filled the chamber.
Finally Tristan struck a telling blow. Merthuvial split the seam that made up the head of the creature and the spider seemed to wobble then stop for a moment. It dropped as its animating force seemed to falter and there was a cracking sound. Suddenly the creature literally blew apart, sending sharp fragments of bone throughout the room, wounding all of the companions.
Bootsy looked around the room and saw the effects of the blast on his companions. He turned to Celtir, “Can you do that holy thing again?”
Celtir smiled and raised his holy symbol once again.
Onward and Upward
Wencis shook his head, “I don’t know. We’ve searched this whole place at least twice.”
“We’ll just have to keep looking,” Celtir answered as he inspected the walls of the kitchen once more. “There has to be more to this place then what we have seen.”
Having run out of obvious doors to open, the companions had to resort to searching for secret doors throughout most of the level once again. Finally, from the northern hall they heard a shout from Bootsy, “Found it!”
Bootsy was standing at the very end of the northern hall running his hands over the wall looking for a catch to open the secret door he suspected was before him. Just as the last of the companions arrived, he finally found it. Pushing in a small stone the door slid open. Beyond was a short hall that opened up to a small ten foot square room with a spiral staircase in the middle. Bootsy smiled and waved the others through, “Up we go!”
The stairway ended in another square chamber that was slightly larger than the one below. In addition to the spiral stair down, there we two other staircases that ascended the western side of the room, one attached to the southern wall the other attached to the northern wall. At the top of each stairway was a stone door with a heavy iron bar across it.
Frankie and Tristan went up the northern stair while Celtir and Wencis went up the southern. Bootsy waited at the foot of the southern stairs. Celtir and Frankie looked at one another and with an unspoken agreement both lifted the bars and opened the doors at the same time. Both doors opened into the same room.
The stench of death poured through the doors, which opened into a massive chamber. A wide elevated walkway led west through the room, a deep yawning pit on either side. Heaps of bodies and body parts formed an obscene landscape at the bottom of the northern pit. Some were jerking spasmodically and moaning. The southern pit was full of skeletons and bones, some of which were rattling and twitching. A pair of smaller catwalks ran around the room’s perimeter, but these were cut out of the walls, not supported by the floor like the central walkway was. A figure stood motionless in the middle of the central walkway.
A low groan sounded from the creature on the central walkway as it lurched around to face the companions. It appeared to be made from an assortment of Drow body parts, stitched and fastened together into an eight foot tall mockery of life.
The companions charged. Wencis was first to attack once again and once again sent his Soul Spark to close with the massive creature while he launched his hammer from a distance. Frankie and Tristan charged up to the creature, both of their blades bit deep though the Golem hardly seemed to notice. The angry creature pushed Frankie knocking him back and into the northern pit. Though his landing was softened by the body parts he landed on, he was disturbed to find the twitching limbs grasping at him and trying to pull him beneath the layers of body parts. He was even more disturbed to see a swarm of undead rats moving through the pit in his direction. He was saved from what may have been a horrible fate by a Fireball from Booty’s wand that decimated the rat swarm and stilled many of the twitching body parts. Celtir cast a spell, once again sending a small burst of positive energy against the enemy. The Flesh Golem was unimpressed.
Breaking free from the grasping hands, Frankie threw himself up the wall and scurried to the top as the others continued to attack the creatures with weapons. Bootsy launched a Scorching Ray at the creature. It didn’t seem to burn the creature, but he did notice that the Golem seemed to move more slowly.
Frankie ran up to rejoin Tristan at the front line and both sank their blades into the creature once again. Even though it was slowed the large creature still dealt out punishing blows with its fists and soon both the front line fighters and the Soul Spark had suffered grievous wounds. Running out of ideas, Bootsy ran around the creature, taking a hit as he did so and struck at it with his mace. Celtir came up behind Tristan and Frankie and released a burst of positive energy, healing some of the wounds on his companions so that they might hold the line.
With his support, the companions slowly whittled away at the creature that seemed able to absorb an incredible amount of punishment. Finally the creature dropped, even as Bootsy noticed a swarm of skeletal rats coming up to the wall of the southern pit. He quickly sent a Fireball down into the pit to destroy the swarm.
Moving to the far side of the walkway they found two doorways apparently barred from the other side as the others had been. As Frankie and Celtir struck at the door to smash it apart, Tristan looked around and noticed that almost all the companions still suffered from wounds from all they had come up against so far in the Spike. He raised his holy symbol and called out to his god, releasing a burst of positive energy that healed his companions. Seeing they were all still wounded he raised his holy symbol once again.
For the next thirty seconds, the walls of the charnel pits were lit over and over again by the strobe-like effects of the paladin’s prayers.
End of Session 9
Session Notes.
Chaos. Yes, Chaos. It would appear we are a chaotic crowd.
The author of the mod made some rather… unfortunate word choices, which when combined with a graphical representation of the Necromancers Spike and our groups tendency toward puerile humor, made it extremely difficult to get through any boxed text without eliciting howls of laughter. Gaping cavity indeed…
We actually covered more ground than I expected, we had a late start and had trouble staying focused (“Stop having so much fun and get serious!” ) but luckily we were still able to keep things moving.
I think it was rather a frustrating night for Bootsy (the character more then the player), between blowing a caster level check on the Drow, Failing his secondary save vs poison and then the two big encounters were immune to most of his spells. Luckily this sorcerer doesn’t actually stand there and do nothing (or worse, sulk) when presented with these conditions.
I think I like the positive energy burst, the Paladin was thrilled when he heard the change and went into strobe light mode at the end of the game. Allowing the cleric to use his spells for something other than healing and allowing for the Paladin to have more healing than Lay on Hands helped them progress through the Spike as quickly as they have.
All in all a fun (but crazy) session. Come to think of it that describes pretty much every session.
Chaos. Yes, Chaos. It would appear we are a chaotic crowd.
The author of the mod made some rather… unfortunate word choices, which when combined with a graphical representation of the Necromancers Spike and our groups tendency toward puerile humor, made it extremely difficult to get through any boxed text without eliciting howls of laughter. Gaping cavity indeed…
We actually covered more ground than I expected, we had a late start and had trouble staying focused (“Stop having so much fun and get serious!”
) but luckily we were still able to keep things moving.I think it was rather a frustrating night for Bootsy (the character more then the player), between blowing a caster level check on the Drow, Failing his secondary save vs poison and then the two big encounters were immune to most of his spells. Luckily this sorcerer doesn’t actually stand there and do nothing (or worse, sulk) when presented with these conditions.
I think I like the positive energy burst, the Paladin was thrilled when he heard the change and went into strobe light mode at the end of the game. Allowing the cleric to use his spells for something other than healing and allowing for the Paladin to have more healing than Lay on Hands helped them progress through the Spike as quickly as they have.
All in all a fun (but crazy) session. Come to think of it that describes pretty much every session.
