Therighast’s group was composed of two other groups of adventurers that had fused, all bent on aiding Dexter Nadly in his quest against the Hill of Skulls.* Therighast himself was a prophet of the Light, as well as a self-described thaumaturge.** He was accompanied by a band of adventurers, including Jenner Sandstone (a dwarven cleric of the Light who looked at Dexter most disapprovingly), Belmondo the Enhanced, a dwarven “prostheticist”, Julio Titan, Avenger of the Light (a paladin), Criedieki Alakath (a merellin fighter/thief), a necromancer calling himself Grisly (whose actual name was Nydroth), Glorkien (an elven fighter/mage), Galactus Ederverlds (an elf from a very far-flung location, who could not even speak with the others of his group) and Ilyara the mage.
Three bands of adventurers were now united. Each of them had one or more members who were moved by the Light to try to rescue the ancient holy scriptures that were to be destroyed within the Hill.
“This place is horrible,” Jenner grunted. “A blight on the land. It is atrociously evil.”
“Well, from the name,” Dexter began, but the dwarven cleric cut him off.
”Come look, you’ll see.” He turned abruptly and began marching towards the rise that would reveal the valley in which the Hill of Skulls was supposed to lay. Dexter turned to follow sightlessly, a small frown on his face.
“You should respect me,” he called out to Jenner, “I am the son of the Light.”
Jenner snorted. “So I have heard. But every son needs a good spanking now and then.”
Not quite sure how to respond to this gruff dwarven cleric, Dexter held his tongue. “You do recall, of course,” he said wryly, “that I have no eyes.”
Jenner halted. “Hmm. A good point. One of your companions should describe this to you.” He turned and began shouting at the rest of the party, who began straggling after the two Galadorians. “We’re still a good half mile off, but... well. You can see well enough.” He paused for a second. “Or your companions can.”
Dexter hears his friends move up and gasp at what they see. And then the stench hits him.
The Hill of Skulls stood below them, grim and foreboding. Its gruesome aspect made even the most stalwart amongst the entire massive party grow pale for a moment, for it was indeed a hill of skulls. The base of it was perhaps 300’ in diameter, and it rose to a height of about 100’. And it was skulls. Goat skulls, possibly of the demon-kind that our heroes have recently battled; human skulls everywhere; elven, dwarven, halfling, gnomish, orc, goblin, gnoll, bird, dog, cat, snake- even cow and garen skulls. Nor were they all stripped clean, especially at the base (though some meatier ones were scattered all the way up to the top). Tattered rags of skin, bloody muscle, here and there an eye; often hair, but just as often gone dry and brittle; some damaged, with brains dripping out the side of the pan or saved-in tops; some with chunks of flesh pecked out by the omnipresent vultures.
And they flocked there, the vultures. They were everywhere, some gobbling tongues and especially the soft, tasty eyes, and some of them merely sunning themselves on the grisly hill. Rats, too- up to the size of medium-sized dogs. They did not walk in fear there, not at all. Staining the ground out to a distance of almost 50’ around the obscene place was a thin film of blood.
“Do you see any guards?” Dexter asked.
“I don’t think so,” Rajah answered. “There’s something at the top, but I think it’s a structure, or a... I can’t tell at this distance.” His nose wrinkled in disgust at the stench rising from the Hill of Skulls. “That place is foul.”
“I have to go in,” Dexter said resolutely. He began to move forward. Nobody urged him to wait; instead, they all began to follow him. The party descended the hillside into the valley that lay host to the gruesome hill before them. As they approached, they could tell that the film of blood contained millions of dead insects. Before their eyes, a vulture tried to eat a particularly tasty-looking fly from the blood- but almost immediately after it swallowed the bloody insect, it gave a feeble cry, flapped once and collapsed, dead.
As they approached the Hill of Skulls, Dexter dropped back to Jenner. The dwarf eyed him dourly. “You are a cleric of the Light?” Dexter asked.
Jenner nodded.
“Here,” Dexter said, and handed over the flail
Brainmasher to the dwarf. “I use my staff.”
Vermin scattered as the party approached the hill. The stink of the drying blood and putrefying flesh is everywhere, almost so nauseating that the heroes could not move, even at such a great distance. It made them gag; several of them retched violently, their stomachs spasming in reaction as if they were poisoned. Carefully, Dexter began to climb the sickening mound, his allies right behind him.
At the top of the Hill of Skulls they found a platform, about 10’ across, octagonal in form. In the exact center of it was an ornate throne, decorated with a spread-winged gargoyle as a headrest, with similar, claw-like arms. The whole platform was constructed of some kind of weird, purple-black stone. From the bottom of it descended six carved, gargoyle-like legs, which were jammed into the heads and skulls below it. The platform rested about four feet above the top of the Hill.
A cowled, robed figure dressed in midnight blue velvet and black leather gloves was seated on the throne. “I am the doorway,” the figure intoned.
“What?” said Jenner suspiciously.
“The ward of entry is on the pyramid. The pentagon is between the ones warded by light and fire. The quartz is in the north...”
“It’s a logic puzzle!” cried Rajah. “Someone write it down! Quick!”
“...the fire ward is next to the southwest. The onyx is facing the sixth one placed. The darkness ward is upon the ruby. The seventh one placed is in the east, and faces the third one placed...”
The party was desperately trying to get out parchment and quill, and also to remember pieces of what the strange figure said.
“...the teardrop is in the west. The star is warded by ice. Three gems clockwise from the crystal is the pentagon. The gem warded by lightning is between the sphere and the first one placed. The ward of silence is upon the northwest gem. The emerald faces the ruby. The first one placed was onyx...”
Scribble, scribble. Several of our heroes began transcribing as quickly as they could.
“...the amethyst faces the crystal and is between the garnet and the star. The ruby is just south of the diamond. The gems warded by light and fire are facing each other.The fire ward is on the cube. The rod was the seventh gem placed and is next to the spell of entrance...”
“Spell of entrance? That sounds good!” exclaimed Proctor Mansack.
“...the ruby is next to the northwest. The star faces the first one placed. Lightning wards the eight one placed. The garnet gem is warded by force, and is just south of the emerald. The rod is next to the pentagon. The sapphire is next to the amethyst. The pyramid is just north of the emerald.”
Scribble, scribble, went the quills. But then...
“Is it over?” cried Rulsha.
“Not yet,” Glorkien said darkly. “We still have to solve it.”
Galactus said something incomprehensible to the others in his own tongue (Elfisti).***
They surveyed the platform. Each corner of the octagon had a small crystal plate on it. “So one of these gets us in?” Drelvin asked. “What if we just try them all?” He reached out and touched one-
Suddenly his friends, the cowled figure, the platform, everyone else was gone- and he was somewhere else! Worse yet, he was on fire!
Next Time: Drelvin- alone!
*All of these were pcs who came together to assault the Hill to save the old book. In retrospect the Hill of Skulls adventure was a bit of a railroad, but it was such a kick-ass dungeon that I felt compelled to force the issue.
I learned a lot from that adventure.
**A thaumaturge was a lot like a sorcerer, really, only in 2e.
***Galactus’ player would roleplay this by saying “Blah blah blah” whenever he would talk.