Der Kluge's Wilderlands Campaign

[reddist]

Session IV: Caverns Under the Tomb

Running my fingers over the stone walls I find a brick with its mortar cracked just a bit too much. I take the lamp from Balderk and hold it up, but I can’t see into the cracks. Still, nothing about the brick or the door suggests that it’s trapped. The Halfling comes over, grabbing on to my pant leg and trying to hop up so he can see. Push it! he says, push it!

Fine, little man, I’ll push the brick in, but as I do I hear two clicks. I leap back just as a fine mist of flammable oil sprays out at my knees, sparking alight to create a sphere of whooshing, roaring flames. Chath and I both shout out, covering our faces against the searing heat as the flames roil about us.

Fortunately there wasn’t much oil left in the old trap and the vaporized spray burns itself out quickly, leaving an acrid cloud of greasy black smoke. The secret door swings loosely on its squeaky hinges, stout oak with a stone façade made to blend into the wall. I hold the lamp high and take a step into the dark corridor beyond, but just as I do Balderk cries out More skeletons! Fall back and defend yourselves!

I’m still patting out flaming bit of my clothes as the Halfling shoves me through the door. Cyridon and Theros fall back towards the entrance while Balderk turns to face the oncoming skeletons, blocking the hall. As I stumble through the door I spot a small lever about knee height. I know what it is, but before I can shout a warning Chath pushes me down the dark, narrow corridor. I leap as hard as I can as the floor gives way under my weight, flinging myself down the corridor. I sail across the pit, slamming into the far side, scrambling to get hold. Dirt and debris tumble past me down into the darkness and I dig my fingers into the cracks in the rock floor, my knees banging into the wall. Finally, knuckles and knees bloodied, I catch myself. Oops.. heh heh. Ooo skeletons! Scoot over!

I pull myself to my feet just as Chath makes a running leap over the pit to land beside me, his momentum carrying him tumbling down the passageway to crash into a wall. He clambers to his feet, digging a sling and stone from his belt. I whirl and snatch a vial of holy water only to see Theros and Cyridon still standing at the doorway, Cyridon with his sigil held high and Theros fumbling through the many small pockets on his vest. I cannot see Balderk, though I hear him roaring as he clashes with what surely must be more wet, bloody skeletons.

Theros spots Chath and me several yards down the hidden hallway and runs to join us. Just as I shout to warn him of the pit, I hear a bamf and feel my ears pop at the odd rushing of wind, and Theros seems to flicker the last few yards to suddenly appear before me. I hear Balderk bellow in pain, and know that at least one of the skeletons got to him.

Finally, Cyridon shouts in that gravely, unearthly voice, and everything becomes still… nothing but the creaking of our armor, shuffle of our feet and the rapid heavy breathing of combat. He must have finally gotten command of them. I take a few steps and leap across the pit again, this time kicking the lever down to lock the swinging plates into place. I throw Chath a dirty look as he ambles across.

Five dripping red skeletons stand dumbly, their arms limp at their sides, and Balderk and Cyridon stand amidst them. I roll my eyes a bit, because I know what’s coming next. We can’t slay them like this, he says. Go figure. I can slay them like this just fine. I figure they’re already dead, and really we’d be doing them a favor.

But instead we work out a plan, involving several vials of holy water, Balderk’s flail, Theros’ staff, a layer of protective shells cast by the mage, and an organized leapfrogging down the hall. Once we’re set, Cyridon releases the skeletons and we take them out one at a time.

 

[reddist]

Once the skeletons are done with, and Balderk’s queer honor satisfied, we decide we have enough strength to explore the tomb a little further. Hopefully, with the most recent batch of undead pouring down upon us from the darkness, we’ve managed to flush out the lot of them… or at least have drawn them all to us. I take a quick look down the narrow hall behind the secret door and find a staircase of carved rock that leads deeper under the hill. It’s dark and smells of damp earth. The hall from which the skeletons swarmed lay ahead of us, and when we are silent, a faint gurgling, bubbling noise can be heard from beyond the shadows.

Rather than risk the dangers below before investigating the waiting halls, we decide to explore the hallway to its end. We pause to relight our lamps and lights, and make our way down the hall. If anything, the offal covering the walls is thicker here, almost caked on. The hallways opens to a much larger room, the ceiling far above us and the side walls disappearing beyond the length of our light. A faint glow comes from ahead of us, like a dying ember in a fire.

The gurgling noise also increases, but it’s not the pleasant bubbling of a cool fountain or brook. No, before us is a fountain, covered in vile runes and excrement, and the thick murmuring we here is blood pouring from the spouts. The pool is crimson and viscous, with chunks of rotten flesh and bones floating on the surface. A skull rolls over as the blood swirls around the pool, grinning at me through red, glistening teeth. The light we saw earlier shines from a pale glowing glyph set in a stone on the fount, a grim and evil sigil that speaks of nothing but eldritch horror.

Chath and I are the first to see this, and our gasps of revulsion draw the attention of the cleric and mage. Theros enters the room, but as he nears the fountain we all can feel a wave of dark energy sweep across the floor. The fountain blurps and splurges, blood boiling and slopping over the sides. Four gruesome figures stand up out of the muck, dripping blood and gobbets of putrid flesh. Their skeletal forms become apparent as the blood pours off them, and they climb up over the sides. Their bony claws scratch at the stone as they pull themselves toward us, dripping stinking, sticky puddles and hissing in the dim light.

Theros flees, screaming down the hall from whence we came. Cyridon raises his staff, smashing it down on the skeleton nearest him, while Balderk whirls his flail, shattering one and biting into another. My sword is next to useless against these skeletal abominations, though I try to distract one from clawing into Balderk’s back. Cyridon gasps in pain as his loathsome opponent swipes at him, and Balderk takes a staggering blow to his head. Both look nearly dead, swaying as they try to keep their feet.

Chath and I hurl our remaining vials of holy water as Balderk finds a well of untapped strength, and all three skeletons collapse one after the other, their wet, sticky bones crumpling to haphazard piles.

 

[reddist]

We collect Theros and decide we have had enough of this temple for one day. We exit the temple into the evening sun and pick our way through the dimming forest back to Torm’s shrine. There, we make camp for the night, Cyridon using what Favor he has left to heal us while I start a cooking fire and prepare our meal. We talk more of the quest given to Balderk, the Tomb of Alaric where we are to find lost artifacts, how we are to destroy or disable the Blood Fountain and its dark glyph. Well… The Knight, the Mage, and the Cleric talk about it. Chath and I go to bed once dinner is finished. It has been a long day, and I don’t feel like reminiscing about it at the fire. I feel like sleeping.

The next day we head back to the temple, though Theros does his little teleporting trick at the entryway, and make our way back to the foul fountain room. There are six other passageways that lead from the room, all with stairways leading up. The glyph still glows with its pale, evil light. Even after discussing it all night and looking at it a second time, those three still don’t know what to do about it. Cyridon though, he makes a careful copy of it in one of his books. I won’t be surprised if the journal starts spitting little paper skeletons out at Theros before the day is through.

I point out the hidden passageway leads down, and perhaps we can find the source of the fountain below and shut it off. Rather than explore the upper sections of this tomb, we decide to go below.

The narrow hallway turns to rough stone as it curves around and down. Finally, after a descent of perhaps 30 or 40 feet, the stone stairs lead to hard packed earth, and a chamber opens up ahead of us. The dank smell of decay is strong here, and there is a still pool on one side of the chamber reflecting our light against the rough walls.

Chath ambles over to inspect the pool, and as soon as he is range, a white, pasty toad lurches out of the water, slapping Chath with the sticky end of its spear-like tongue and pulling him in so nothing but the Halfling’s feet hung out, kicking feebly. Another toad sloshes forward out of the pool, snapping at the Halfling’s feet before it notices us.

Balderk and I rush the Chath’s aid, slashing into the toads with our blades. Practiced toad-killers, we make short work of them and free Chath from the beast’s mouth. He tumbles out, covered in slime and blood, gummy and rank.

 

[reddist]

While Chath rinses off the worst of the muck in the pool, we fan out to inspect the chamber. At the far end we find an iron door set into the wall, carved with sharp, jagged runes which Cyridon identifies as signs of Bhaal, an anciet god of violence and death. Cyridon tells us Bhaal was once opposed to Torm but was defeated somehow, centuries ago.

Chath emerges from the pool, dripping but free of toad-slime, and joins us as we inspect the door. He takes a lamp and peers into the lock, gently probing with a thin metal wire. Locked, but not trapped, he says, unrolling a leather kit with set of tools on the ground before him. He soon gets the door to produce a series of clicks, then rolls up his kit and opens the door, bowing to us and holding his arms wide. Ignoring his theatrics, I pass him by and enter the earthen cavern beyond.

Another narrow corridor though the ceiling is far above us, beyond the reach of our torches. A howling wind rushes through the cavern, pulling at our torches. I kneel to inspect the loose earth at our feet and find the tracks of humanoids, moving to and from the rusted iron door.

The wind masks the buzzing of insect wings until it’s nearly too late. I look up and come face to face with a large wasp-like bug, zooming at my face. I raise my hands to fend it off but it’s too fast, darting in and latching on to my armor. I feel a sharp, biting pain as it plunges a stinger into my neck, and weakness overcomes me.

It’s like I can feel blood pumping out of the hole in neck. My bow clatters on the packed earthen floor and I reach up to twist the thing’s head off, but the bug is far stronger than I thought. It clings to me with a ferocious tenacity, buzzing angrily as it sucks at my neck, and the droning becomes a cacophonous roar as more of them drop upon us from above.

From the corner of my eye I see a flash of light streak from Theros’ fingers, and the stirge attached to my neck disappears in a cloud of green and yellow goo, spattering across my face. Chath nails one with a hard-flung slingstone, and once we have the upper hand the remaining stirges swiftly fall. Blood still oozes thinly from my neck and my knees wobble a bit as I try to stand, but I wave off Cyridon’s cold, probing fingers. We just need to find a place to rest, I tell him. Give me a chance to sleep some of this off.

 

[reddist]

We turn back through the iron door, locking it behind us, and inspect the pool again. That water has be coming from somewhere, and in the beams of light penetrating through the muck I think I can see silt and mud stirring lighty at the bottom, as if swaying in some slight current. I wade into the pool, kneeling and feeling along the wall… there is a tunnel underneath! I take a deep breath and duck under, much to the surprise of my companions. Pulling myself along, I travel perhaps twenty feet before the underwater passage opens up again to another small chamber, no bigger than an inn room. It smells of toad, dirt, and rot.

Perfect.

I swim back and convince the others to join me, and Cyridon calls upon his remaining Favor to heal what wounds he can. Lamps are set for the mage and cleric to read by and rations are passed around. With our pains eased and our hunger satisfied, all that remains is our exhaustion.

Easily remedied.

 

[Fiasco]

This is a vivid and entertaining story hour. Keep up the good work! Your writing (and your DM) have done a great job of capturing the feel of the Wilderlands setting.

 

[Gold Roger]

Just dropping by to say that I really enjoy this. Very good writing and an interesting game.

My only complain would be that the font you use is to small and hard to read. Trying to read long stretches makes my eyes hurt.

 

[Rath Lorien]

Thanks for the storyline, reddist.
For those of us actually playing with you, it is a double treat!

 

[reddist]

Session 05: Lairs

We sleep for an indeterminate time… with no outside light in the room it’s hard to tell how long we rest. Watches are tests of endurance, cooped up in this small, dark, dank chamber. Theros and Cyridon spend much of their time talking quietly between themselves. I can’t understand much of what they’re saying, as they dip in and out of languages I don’t understand. Something guttural and harsh, and it grates on my ears. Somehow I manage to tune them out as I lay my head down on my pack, and I drift off to sleep.

Finally, after our internal clocks tell us its time to get out of this hole or go insane, we rouse ourselves and prepare to explore a little deeper into the caverns. Beyond the cavern where the stirges descended upon us we come to an intersection, the passageway turning either to the right or to the left. From the right, west I think, a fierce wind howls from high above, ripping and pulling at our torches. Cooler temperatures drift up from the left, and it seems the tunnels descend even deeper that way. We opt for the wind-swept tunnels.

The wind roars in my ear, and it’s a good thing, too. Cyridon and Theros will not shut up. Cyridon has become excited about some insight or discovery he made last night, and in his enthusiasm he is almost shouting at Theros. If the wind makes it hard for me to hear them only 20 feet behind, hopefully nothing ahead of me can hear us stomping and shouting about in these dark and twisting tunnels.

The flames of our torches spurt and sputter as Chath and I move forward, clinging close to the walls. We keep to the shadows of the lights carried behind us, but even this dim illumination is enough for me to pick out large humanoid tracks in the muck of dirt and bat guano. Ogres, moving back and forth along this tunnel, and recently.

 

[reddist]

The wind dies down as the tunnel widens into an open chamber. A large column of rock supports the domed ceiling, and the room spreads wide beyond the reach of our lights, cowering as we are in the tunnels. The ogre tracks are thick here, and it’s hard to tell if it’s one or many… I could only assume these tracks are not disturbed regularly, so one ogre tramping back and forth could account for these, over time.

We enter the chamber and fan out, spotting three smaller passages that lead away from us. Two of these are choked with piles of broken rock and rubble, though not piled so high we couldn’t pass through. The third is clear and wraps around to the right, but proves to be a dead end.

We stand there a while until Cyridon and Theros realize we’ve stopped. The two passages ahead of us, heaped with rubble, both seem to lead to short passages beyond. Climbing to the top of one, I can spot a similar pile of rock at the far end of a short tunnel.

Shrugging, I pick the right passage and leap over the pile of rock and Chath follows me. I creep to the next mound and peer over into another large room with another shadowy corridor veering off the right. Chath clambers up beside me, and together we sneak into the chamber. It smells like rotten garbage and dank fur here, surely if there are ogres in these tunnels, they are near by.