Nebulous's Keep on the Shadowfell (FR)

[Nebulous]

Adventure #5: Shadowfell Keep

PART FOUR

“Fall back!” the warlord bellows, and everyone tries making their way to the junction corridor…

…and that’s when they see ten zombies shambling toward them from the darkness. They’re being attacked from both sides now, and the enemies in the sarcophagi room have no end in sight. The implications of this are horrifying; they’ll be torn to shreds down here and no one in Winterhaven will ever see them again.

They don’t know what they did to trigger the skeleton trap, but fortification in the hallway is a decent tactic to avoid waves of arrows hurling toward them. Skeleton archers without good line sight put their bows away and advance with rusted longswords, and for every few undead they cut down, ten more leap forth from iron coffins the next round!

Fortunately, most are minions so they drop easily, and their attacks don’t inflict terrible damage. Helga and Kerric take the brunt of the assault, using their high AC to deflect blows, or their hefty hit points to absorb damage while the weaker character defend the zombie flank.

Irann curses anything she can see (both magically and literally) and lobs gouts of eldritch fire. Erevan conjures a globe of flame and rolls it into the midst of the zombies, incinerating any that get too close.

[GM Note: I think it was around now that someone said that we were really playing Diablo and not D&D].

The group is wavering between fighting and fleeing, and the hesitation weakens their tactics. If the skeletons keep spawning endlessly there will be no point to keep fighting…unless there is a way to stop them on the other side. If they can chop a path through the zombies they’ll have a clear run back to the surface, at least to catch their breath and decide on another strategy.

Arrows continue raining down on them, mostly pinging off armor or shields but occasionally sinking into flesh. The zombies are picked off relatively quickly, but for five rounds in a row the ranks of skeleton warriors grows thicker and thicker, crowding almost every available square. Row upon row of clacking dead warriors fall beneath the PCs blades and flame.

The zombies are finally all destroyed, giving Brandis and Irann a chance to run back upstairs to where they first found the Goblin Trap…to retrieve the barrel of lantern oil.

They’re going to burn the bastards to a second death down there.

It will take five rounds to retrieve it, and in the meantime Helga, Erevan and Kerric do what they can to hold back the enemy. Erevan continues scorching the warriors, and then rolls his flaming sphere into their midst, igniting a few others. But the skeletons have no fear and march relentlessly into obliteration, trying to overwhelm them with sheer numbers.

When the barrel of oil is finally rolled down to the group (and fortunately Brandis and Irann met no resistance alone) Kerric shoves it to the middle of the hallway. They’re very curious to know what triggers the trap; is it their presence, some magical signal, or something else? The barrel stops in the middle of the floor and does not seem to begin another wave. They don’t hear scratching yet either. Helga braves the arrows that will fly at her once she enters the room and charges in, screaming at the top of her lungs.

A few barbs sink into her, but most bounce off. Kerric is hot on her heels, his shield raised and his bastard sword swinging arcs through their enemies. Rusted blades shatter against their armor, and then Erevan’s flaming sphere is bobbing through, igniting their ancient dry bones into crackling conflagrations.

Irann runs in too, teleporting short distances as cursed skeletons are obliterated by the warriors ahead of her. Soon, the group of five adventurers has pressed the enemy to the rear of the chamber where the ceiling rises.

[GM Note: There is actually quite a bit of descriptive detail about this end of the room I glossed over; I’ll get to that next time].

After a long, brutal, exhausting battle against a seemingly endless horde of magically animated undead, the flow has ceased, and the last two skeletal warriors hack and chop at Helga as she advances on them with murder in her eyes. The end comes soon after that, and the group heaves in great sucking breaths, listening to the stillness around them and the pounding of their hearts.

They’re alive, not too badly hurt, and standing in the middle of what looks like a holy shrine. Or unholy, depending on who you ask. There is a wooden altar to the north and south, a vaulted ceiling shimmering with dull starlight, and a large set of double doors to the west.

Kerric suspects something in this room has to do with the plague of skeletons, and he’s also worried that they could continue pouring out again. Behind them, the long hallways is littered with dozens of shattered bones, weapons and tattered chainmail, the remnants of a long battle that could have gone very poorly for the heroes.

They begin to search…

And that’s where we stopped.

[GM Note: A whole lot of this session ventured into unexpected territory, but that’s fine. The battle in the skele-crypt was not as deadly as it seemed at first, but man, I was surprised when I read over that section. I hadn’t planned on them going there and had not prepped it at all, nor did I recall what the trap entailed. Fortunately I had a co-DM helping this session! It went much smoother than it would have otherwise; i didn't have any miniatures prepared].

 

[Nebulous]

Adventure #6: Splug

PART ONE

The heroes are entrenched in a strange chapel of gentle, starry light. Behind them the hallway is littered with dozens and dozens of bones and blades, remnants of the last bizarre encounter in the Skeleton Monster Closet. Above them the high ceiling is concave and painted with an exquisite rendering of Bahamut, the Platinum Dragon of Justice, a benevolent god sometimes worshipped by Man. Its eye burns with a soft white luminescence.

To the left and right are two altars, both identical, both emblazoned with draconic imagery and runes. Small clusters of candles magically burn atop the altars. To the north is a large set of iron double doors that holds an ominous promise of what might lie beyond.

Kerric the Paladin of Kelemvor suspects that the altars offer a way to shut down the Skeleton Monster Closet…but he can’t read the words. But the warlock Irann can, so she squats down, trying to decipher the cryptic prayer. The others stand guard, but are dismayed to see the bones in the hallway slowly begin disintegrate, turning to a fine gray powder, the blades rusting and cracking and crumbling too.

And within a few short seconds they hear claws scratching inside the sarcophagi again!

This bodes ill, and Irann redoubles her efforts to read the Draconic script. Soon she has translated a prayer and recites it to Kerric, who humbly kneels at the altar, even though it is not his god, and beseeches the aid of Bahamut. A feeling of tranquility flows through his body, and moments later the scratching stops. The dead have been silenced. For now.

But Kerric is not sure how long this fix will last. If they leave and return some days later the magic trap might reset itself. Regardless, they know how to stop the flow of undead. With some breathing room, they investigate the altars closer.

Underneath one they find a smooth marble tombstone, with the epitaph:
GONE TOO SOON – ISABEL KEEGAN.” This must be the wife of Sir Keegan who brutally slew his family and friends so long ago. The other altar has a similar flat tombstone, engraved with: “LOST TOO SOON – KEERA & KELLA KEEGAN.”

The dead twins.

Almost as soon as they have read the inscription, the temperature noticeably drops and lights seem to dim. Their breath visibly puffs in the chilly air. From out of nowhere, two little girls have abruptly appeared in the hall, staring at the heroes with white eyes.

“FATHER’S ANGRY…” they say in unison, their ghostly voices echoing throughout the corridor.
“FATHER’S ANGRY…”

Their feet end in swirling mist, the same mist that the heroes released earlier from the Goblin Trap box.

Kerric takes a deep breath and swears to the ghostly twins that he will avenge their deaths. It is part of his holy duty to Kelemvor. They say nothing else and dissipate into mist. Helga regrets they didn’t try to question the ghosts, but there is no guarantee they would be capable of answering anyway.

Kerric and Erevan the wizard put their combined knowledge of Religion and Arcana together and try to figure out what these dead twins are, and why they might have been inside a silver-lined chest in the possession of goblins. They no longer think that they are vampires, and while the spirits can perhaps be temporarily destroyed, the only way to send their souls to a higher plane is to ritualistically consecrate this room. [A Minor Quest]. That is something they’ll deal with later.

 

[Nebulous]

Adventure #6: Splug!

PART TWO


They discuss their options and look over the hastily drawn map for Merp the Moneylender in Silverymoon. There are four places they have not searched, and they decide to backtrack to the top level and explore there first, rather than entering the large double doors. Leaving enemies behind them just doesn’t seem like a good idea and could compound their problems later.

So, back at the top level, they look under beds in the guard room and find some gold, and then it’s off to the north where they saw a light. Erevan runs upstairs to the surface first to check the status. It’s been raining and is cloudy now, but there is no indication of foes lurking outside. Good.

The hall to the north widens to reveal a wood door on the west, a wood door to the north, and black iron double doors on the east. All are closed. A lantern hangs on the wall, shedding wobbly light. Kerric and Brandis creep forward, weapons extended, their ears perked for the slightest sign of trouble. Kerric hears gruff voices behind the north door but can’t understand the language. Erevan presses an ear to the cold iron double doors and hears nothing. Likewise, the wood door to the west is silent. Brandis gets closer to the north doors and hears a strange conversation beyond, spoken in goblin between three individuals, and it concerns eating someone’s fingers and toes!

Kerric clearly hears a fourth voice wailing, “NO! No nononononononono!”

They discuss their options, and Irann picks the lock on the west door. There’s a storage room beyond filled with dry rations. Nothing of particular interest. However, they tie the handles on the iron doors together with rope so that if anyone tries to exit it will be very difficult, if not impossible.

The group clusters around the door where they heard voices. Helga touches the handle. It’s unlocked. Licking her lips, she gently pushes it open a sliver, revealing a few closed jail cells. She opens it a little wider, revealing more and more of the chamber, and then swings it all the way!

There’s a man-sized person in here, his face obscured by a black torturer’s mask, and wearing a black apron and leather armor. He’s bending over a flame pit with two burning hot pokers. There are also two small armed goblins immediately visible.

“Who are YOU?” the torturer grunts, but doesn’t wait for an answer. He launches toward the dwarf with a raucous battle cry even as the two goblins whip out bows and begin peppering the heroes with tiny – yet horribly accurate - arrows. Helga plants her feet and meets the torturer head on, but his poker thrusts into her shoulder and the cloth beneath immediately smolders and ignites. Brandis jabs through the doorway with his halberd, gouging the torturer in the ribcage. He howls in pain, but doesn’t stop twisting the poker in Helga’s shoulder.

Kerric and Brandis both try to help pat out the flames, but they’re unable to accomplish much in the chaos of the fight. [GM Note: Thinking back on it, using a minor to get out a canteen, and then a Standard to dump it on the small flames could A) Put them out, or B) Give an additional saving throw, or C) Give a bonus to the saving throw]. Vicious blows are exchanged in the doorway, and all the while two goblin sharpshooters are launching arrows with cruel accuracy. Helga is Bloodied and forced to back off. The torturer is hampered by numerous conditions himself, but as soon as he retreats from the door it slams shut in the hero’s faces. Someone was behind it the whole time waiting for him to move out of the way.

Not wanting that to happen again, Kerric retrieves a broom handle from the storage room and crams it into the door jamb so that it can’t be closed. Helga bursts in, a permanent scowl on her face, and nearly gets stabbed in the spleen by a waiting goblin beside the door. She deflects the blow and hammers the butt of her axe onto his head. Arrows whistle at her, and then Kerric and Brandis surge into the room, taking the fight to the archers.

Meanwhile, needless to say, the wizard has been throwing magic missiles through the open door while the warlock curses and eldritch blasts anyone she can see. They’re safely nestled out of melee combat reach.

The masked torturer leaps back into the fray, and Helga is dismayed when multiple attacks from she and her comrades seem to harmlessly bounce off his leather jerkin! Chuckling evilly, the torturer stabs down again and again, but fails to make a connection with Helga, who finally plants her axe deep into the crown of his head. Blood spurts out in a crimson shower and the man keels over backwards, dead.

Kerric and Brandis find a third goblin archer inside a cage in the corner of the room, and as soon as they’re in sight he starts shooting. Kerric soon skewers an archer into the wall, and Helga charges the one in the cage. They try to intimidate the goblin into submission and surrender (and only fail by a single point) but the goblin is incensed and willing to fight to the death, so Helga obliges him. Snickety-snick.

Once the fight is over they search around the room. It’s obviously a torture chamber, replete with cruel instruments of pain, and even an iron maiden. Erevan detects magic on the armor the torturer wore and finds that it bears a minor Bloodcut enchantment. Despite the stink and the blood, he puts the armor on. They investigate the prisoner cells, and that’s where they find the creature who previously shrieked “NO nononono!”

There is a pathetic-looking goblin hunched in the back of the cell, a pot over his head and covering his eyes. There are curious burn marks adorning his face and arms.

“Who are you?” asks Kerric, “and why are you in here?”

“Me Splug, mm-hmmm,” the goblin answers, peeking out with one eye from under the kettle. “Don’t you eat me, mmhmmm!”

[GM Note: Splug’s voice and mannerisms were liberally borrowed from Billy Bob Thornton in Slingblade]

 

[Nebulous]

Adventure #6: Splug!

PART TWO

Well, the group doesn’t have any intention of eating the dirty goblin, although Splug goes on to insist how bad he surely tastes. The group isn’t keen on letting him out either, and they take their time questioning him and trying to glean any motives the creature might have. Splug reveals numerous things that may or may not be true, but they don’t detect any overt dishonesty from him.

1) Splug has been here with the goblins for many months, and he is a simple guard.

2) He works for Boss Fatty, a fat -eating goblin. Splug hates him. And no, Splug doesn’t know any inherent weaknesses or statblock vulnerabilities that they might exploit (nice try though!) Fatty likes to fight with a big crossbow and target practices on rats and other goblins.

3) Boss Fatty in turn works for Kalarel, a human magic maker of some kind. Splug never sees him, and just knows that he’s a mean, bad bad man. And he don’t like pretty things. Not one bit. In fact, he likes ugly dead things.

4) Boss Fatty is behind the iron doors outside the torture chamber, and has around a dozen goblin guards.

5) Splug was terribly injured by a burning thing in the dark, but it burned him without heat (acid?) His scars would indicate this. The thing killed the squad he was with while they were investigating a cave. Splug barely escaped.

6) Splug is now nearly useless and half-blind, so the mean goblins threw him in here and decided to torture him and eat him, mostly out of boredom and natural malevolence.

7) Splug isn’t feeling any particular loyalty toward goblins right now, or hobgoblins for that matter, and the group of heroes collectively Intimidate Splug into servitude, under the threat that if he EVER betrays them, they’ll hunt him to the far corners of the world. And then they WILL eat him.

8] He knows that Irontooth was a goblin and a loyal follower of Kalarel, but Splug never met him personally.

9) Splug says that he found a secret door downstairs in the stinky level, but couldn’t open it. He offers to show the group this door as an offering of trust.

10) There are hobgoblins in the lower level, a whole bunch of ‘em, but Splug don’t ever go down there.

11) There’s an excavation site nearby on the top floor, buncha goblins been digging there for weeks looking for treasure. They got some meanie guard drakes with them. Splug doesn’t much like the drakes; they have bitey bitey sharp teeth.

12) The ghostly little girls. Oh, yeah, Splug knows about dem! They scare him. And they really annoyed Kalarel, but that big man wasn’t scared of them. He made magic and trapped them in a box, and gave that box to the goblins to scare off intruders.

13) Lastly, they question him about Boss Fatty’s room behind the iron door. Is there another way out? Splug has been in there before and doesn’t recall seeing an exit, but he says that Bossy Fatty is clever. They suspect that there might be another way in or out.

After this interrogation, they finally let Splug out of the cage. He can wield a small shield, javelins and a sword, although he’s an even less capable fighter since his injury. They don’t really want him for combat though, but as a source of subterfuge and information.

[GM Note: The Monster Manual says that all monsters have a healing surge but most cannot activate them on their own, they need help. So, I think that the warlord or paladin might be able to activate Splug’s second wind once per encounter. I’d still keep him out of a fight if you can help it, he’ll drop fast regardless].

The group decides they want to take care of this Boss Fatty problem first. It’s just not wise to leave a large number of goblins lurking around behind them. They still don’t hear any sounds behind the iron door, but the group did make a lot of noise outside very recently. Someone might have heard. They send Splug inside with explicit instructions: Intruders are at the entrance! COME QUICK! HELP!

Kerric and Erevan hide inside the torture chamber while everyone else skitters around the corner to the main entrance chamber where the rat pit is. The plan is to separate the enemy and pick them off in small groups, rather than confronting the whole bunch at once. Kerric watches through a crack in the door, but not long after Splug has entered, they hear him yelp and come streaking out, bearing left and running toward the others. He tells Brandis that the goblins were on high alert and armed, with a table turned over, and were asking him how he got out of the cage. They must have heard the fight outside and dug themselves in, waiting for intruders to enter.

Not good.

About a minute later a lone goblin scout exits the black iron doors, fails to see Kerric hiding, and then closes the doors.

Well, so much for the plan to ambush the gobbers. They’re on high alert right now and a head-on confrontation might be difficult. But the PCs have another plan; they find a chain in the torture chamber and wrap it around the handles on the iron door, hoping to trap the goblins inside. They’ll come back later after some time has passed and try to catch them off guard again.

Next stop: the excavation site.

 

[Nebulous]

Adventure #6: Splug!

PART THREE

They’re not sure what to expect as they open the door to this new passage. Bright light emanates from multiple lanterns as they creep down the stairs. They pass an open passage on the right that Splug shies away from, whimpering. He says that down THERE the thing attacked them, the thing that burned him with no heat. Helga takes a couple of steps inside and sees that the flagstones and architecture from elsewhere gives way to a natural cavern. Water drips from the ceiling into chilly puddles. Ignoring the passage for now, they send Splug ahead to report what he sees at the dig, and he returns saying that there are three diggers and two drakes.

Drakes. Only Brandis knows what drakes are, basically vicious lizards that can be trained as loyal pets, not unlike guard dogs.

The group is lined up in the hall outside the room with only a partial view within. The flagstone floor has been ripped apart, creating small pillars connected by planks. Kerric can just barely see a small dragon-like creature curled up on one of the platforms. They hear goblins complaining, but only Brandis speaks goblin and he can’t quite make out the words.

They have momentary surprise, and decide to act on it. Helga initially wants to remove the plank connecting the nearest island, until someone gently points out that the drake has wings and would just flap over to their side anyway. So, Helga CHARGES into the room, attempting to leap over the wobbly plank and bring the fight straight to the drake, but her feet tangle up at the last instant and she drops like a lead balloon to the earthen floor ten feet below.

Splat.

On the other side of the room a goblin digger blinks and rubs his eyes. Was that a flying dwarf he just saw? The drake turns its head, reptilian nostrils flaring.

Helga moans and spits dirt from her mouth. Kerric runs down the ramp, leaps over her body, and darts toward the second drake down on the ground, followed by Brandis the warlord. Again, Erevan and Irann stay far from the midst of battle and attack from range, although the wizard has been missing terribly tonight.

The three diggers are also armed with bows (goblins don’t leave their beds without some kind of weapon), and they are the same annoyingly dangerous sharpshooters that the heroes encountered in the Torture Chamber.

And to their further dismay, Kerric finds that Splug was quite correct about the drakes – they are VERY mean and very bitey bitey bitey. The reddish beast flies at the paladin, jaws clamping onto his arm and shredding through the armor. Helga has already picked herself up and charged the closest archer, pinning him down and hacking at him with mad sweeps of her axe. A drake leaps off from the pillar island and slams into her, teeth latching onto her leg, its head thrashing back and forth like a shark.

Between a few well-aimed arrows and the drake, Kerric finds himself suddenly bloodied and in danger. He manages to daze the drake with a daily power, but fails to put enough distance between himself and his foe, and the next thing he knows the drake has lunged at him, and Kerric is knocked unconscious and dying.

Helga crushes a goblin, and then spins on an injured drake, slamming her axe through its skull. Arrows continue pinging down from the elevated goblin, but Erevan targets him with multiple magic missiles. Irann teleports inside the room for line of sight to the last drake and curses it, although she is struck (for the first time perhaps!) by several arrows. Brandis expends a daily, walloping a drake for massive damage.

Someone manages to stabilize Kerric so that he quits making Death Saves, but he is still unconscious. The last drake is slain, soon followed by a goblin, and then there is only one lone archer left. An eldritch blast explodes unholy flames from his eyes and mouth, and the little beast crumples into a charred heap.

Kerric is helped to his feet, and the group spends as many surges as they can to recuperate. They’ve depleted some Action Points and dailies and are planning on leaving the Keep to rest and recuperate, either in the woods or back at Winterhaven, the latter of which will offer Wolftooth to Brandis Padraig if they choose that route. They just don’t think it is safe to stay in the keep. [Wise move, guys!]

They search the dig site first and find an old battered scrollcase that the goblins probably thought useless. It contains two rituals: Detect Secret Doors and Repel Vermin, two spells that the wizard doesn’t have.

And that’s where we stopped.

 

[Nebulous]

CUT SCENE #1​

[GM Note: This is something new I’m trying. I would have done it after the last fight but I forgot, so I’m including it here in the recap. Keep in mind that any information learned is purely for player entertainment and cannot be used metagame by the characters. Also keep in mind that WHEN this scene takes place is also unknown and left deliberately vague].


Kalarel turned his face upward, allowing droplets of warm blood to splash across his jaw and cheeks. He opened his mouth to drink. Red rivulets stained his ram-horned helm, and his features glowed hellishly in the wan candle light. Sluggish liquid pooled around his feet, a dark morass of mixed blood and viscera. Nearby, a humanoid figure lurked in the shadows, its features obscured.

The deathpriest of Orcus allowed the last of the blood to fall, and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stepped out of the pool. It was very dark in this place, and the only sounds heard were the squishing of his boots and distant, muffled screams. The screams soon stopped. The figure standing in the shadows said nothing.

“I’ve heard word from my spy in Winterhaven, Maw,” the priest finally said. He was staring off into the darkness. Although human, Kalarel’s features displayed a bestial anger, a hatred of life and living things that made him seem more monster than man. The shadow in the darkness did not answer, but skeletal fingers did gently tap each other, waiting for Kalarel to continue.

“The Mirror of Scarvoss has been stolen from the graveyard. Those…stupid kobolds failed to dig it all the way out.” His lip was peeled back in a sneer, his fist curled into a ball. “Lord Orcus will be very…displeased. That mirror held a piece of the Shadowfell within in it, and would have made opening the rift much easier, and greatly aided Orcus’s bid for rulership of the shadow world.

But no matter. No matter. We continue the plan.”

He continued to glower into the darkness.

“Apparently,” he said with some difficulty, “a human fool named Douvan Stahl and a Halfling have taken the mirror north. I dispatched agents, but even now it might be too late. The mirror is likely beyond our reach.”

The figure in the shadows spoke. “And you did not send me?” A rasping voice, as if its throat were full of dry dirt.

“No, Maw. I need you here. We can still open the rift, but we’ll need more blood than before. Much more. Buckets...of blood. Do you understand?”

A skeletal head nodded. “Yes…Master Kalarel.”

“Good. Seek the surface then, inquisitor, and attend my bidding. And if you happen upon any Bloodreavers, all offers for their slaves are to be accepted. We need sacrifices now more than ever. Winterhaven shall suffer, oh yes. Their children shall wallow in suffering.”

A rotting figure stepped fully into the candle light, illuminating a hideously scarred corpse dangling with sharp implements of torture.

“As you wish, Master,” Maw whispered and dissolved into the darkness, leaving Kalarel alone with his thoughts…


TO BE CONTINUED

 

[Nebulous]

Nebulous's Keep on Shadowfell (FR)

Adventure #7: Lord of the Maw & Boss of the Fat

PART ONE

The session begins immediately after the last one. The five heroes are standing in the excavation pit, goblin and drake corpses sprawled about them. Splug is muttering and sputtering but hasn’t run off to hide yet. They discuss their options, but had previously settled on a plan: return to Winterhaven to rest and recoup.

Trudging back up, they do check the door to Boss Fatty’s chamber, but the iron chain is wrapped around it, and there’s no sign that anyone has been out. It will have to do for now, and they’ll return after a night’s rest to determine if their idea actually trapped the goblins inside.

Splug is glad to leave with the heroes, and the little half-blind, limping goblin seems amicable in their company, just glad not to be food and fodder for his own degenerate species. Roughly an hour later, just as the sun is beginning to dip behind the treeline, the band of adventurers reaches the town gates. Rond Kelfern is atop the battlements and heartily greets them, but his greeting turns to surprise when he catches sight of Splug on his leash, cowering behind Irann the half-elf warlock.

“What in the nine hells is that? A bloody goblin!”

The militiaman is upset, but the group quickly explains that the goblin is a prisoner and under their control. Splug nods furiously. “Prisoner, mmm-hmmm…I am I am mmm-hhmm…” They enter town and take care of some business first, which amounts to visiting Thair Coalbiter the smithy, selling off some weapons and wine and other loot they’ve acquired, and smelting down the abominable golden goat idol they found at Irontooth’s waterfall lair. Between the raw metal and the small inlaid gems Thair is able to mint them a hefty little sack of coins (Stamped with their faces! Liberators of Winterhaven! No, not really).

The idol reminds them of their mission for the Frog Queen; return to her on the next full moon at Jade Hill with Irontooth’s hands, which Sister Linora has kindly preserved with magic. But that is still some time away; only about a week has passed since their first troublesome encounter on the road with kobold brigands.

With some bookkeeping out of the way, it’s off to Wrafton’s Inn for much needed food, ale and relaxation. Erevan, Irann, Kerric, Helga, Brandis and Splug enter the tavern room, clearly hearing the melodic croon of the elf minstrel Kelrella Sweetleaf inside, who nods as they enter. Her Halfling isn’t there, so she’s strumming the harp herself. The common room is bustling with bodies and beers, and they see that Lord Ernest Padraig is here as well, deep into his cups and sitting rather close to busty and lusty Salvana Wrafton. Her arms are draped over his shoulders, and she’s whispering into his ear. But as soon as Padraig sees his son and his comrades, he lurches to his feet.

“You’re back!” he slurs. “How fares the mission at the old keep? Have you ended the threat?”

Well, the threat is not exactly GONE yet, but they’re working on it, and will be returning tomorrow after a good night’s rest. They don’t really want to start talking too much with Padraig here in the middle of the tavern, especially since they know a spy is active in Winterhaven. Lord Padraig is aware of this too, but in his drunken state his caution might be thrown to the wind. Besides, Salvana Wrafton is being terribly distracting and pulls Ernest back to the table.

But trouble almost starts anew when Thair Coalstriker hobbles into the room, still stinking of sweat and soot, and locks eyes with Splug for the first time. Splug smiles. Thair doesn’t. His nostrils just flare to disproportionate sizes.

“Gob…gob…GOBLIN!!!”

The dwarf smithy hauls a barstool over his head, intending to smash Splug into pulp. Helga and Bradnis intervene, managing to talk Thair out of killing their new “assistant.” The dwarf isn’t happy about it, and continues throwing evil glares at the goblin, who busies himself under Irann’s skirt and cloak as much as possible.

Eventually the group retires to their chambers, and Brandis drags his father away from the amorous clutches of Salvana Wrafton.

“She’s not worth it, Ernest!” Brandis hears Salvana whispering harshly to Lord Padraig. He pushes her away and leaves the inn with his son. Brandis is horribly embarrassed by their behavior, but his father IS known to be somewhat of a lady’s man, and Salvana has a rep as a tart. Stumbling back to the walled Padraig estate, Ernest Padraig has a gift ready and waiting for his eldest son: the Padraig family blade, Wolftooth.

Sliding the enchanted blade from its sheath, Brandis is overwhelmed by its elegance, the way the weapon is perfectly balanced in his hands. Indeed, this sword will help bring justice and revenge to the citizens of Winterhaven. Brandis’s mother Cynthia is still asleep, well under the influence of snailwort, so Brandis spends a little time with his youngest sister before retiring to bed.

The night passes mostly without incident…MOSTLY…at least, up until seven hours later when heavy knocking upon Erevan’s door rouses the wizard from meditation. It’s the dead of night. A gruff voice shouts: “Hey! You in there! We need help! NOW!”

Erevan doesn’t recognize the voice (and the group is keen to the fact that this is the same trick they tried against the goblins, trying to lure them out of their lair!) but he peeks out the door anyway and sees a bedraggled Winterhaven Regular with deep scratches down the side of his face.

“Please! You must help! My name is Guy. There are…these…things coming out of the graveyard! The dead! Corby and I saw a blue light behind the gates and we went to investigate, and then they swarmed at us! By Sune! They tore Corby to pieces! Right in front of me eyes! Just…ripped into him! You’ve got to help!”

Well, this sounds like a job for a group of well-armed heroes, so Erevan quickly relates the details to his friends. They suit up, buckling on armor and sheathing blades. They question the Regular, asking him how many creatures he saw, and what the blue light was. He didn’t get far enough into the graveyard to see. All he knows is that poor Corby- poor young Corby! - was killed right in front of him, and so the soldier ran out of the cemetery, pursued by a small group of slavering things.

Kerric wonders if they were zombies…or ghouls. Ghouls. The latter would be a much more dangerous foe, and everyone looks closely at Guy’s wounds, wondering if he has somehow been infected by disease. Is he going to transform into a monster too? They don’t know for sure, but he would probably have to die first in order to rise again.

While the group finishes preparing, The Regular is sent to Padraig’s estate to warn Brandis and the others. Helga orders Splug to stay in the room, lock the door, and don’t open it for anyone until they return. Nodding, the half-blind little goblin squeezes under the bed. Soon, the companions have congregated outside and see that the night is oily black, with not even a shred of moon to see by. In the distance beyond the gates, the faintest hint of blue light shimmers on the clouds. There is a flurry of activity atop the battlements as soldiers muster, firing crossbows at unseen targets beyond the gates.

Erevan rushes to the parapets and looks down. There are three corpses below riddled with bolts, none of which are moving. He considers blasting them with fire magic just to be safe, but the bodies don’t appear to be getting back up. Rond Kelfern cracks the gates and lets the companions out. Closer inspection of the corpses suggests that they are indeed just animated zombies, and not their more dangerous cousins, ghouls or ghasts. In the distance a faint blue shaft of light is visible inside the graveyard, so without further delay, the group proceeds down the hill.

 

[Nebulous]

Adventure #7: Lord of the Maw & Boss of the Fat

PART TWO

Soon, they see the front gates of the cemetary.

The fence is wrought iron, spiked on the top, but the front gate hangs ajar, torn from the hinges. Stepping closer, they see movement on the path within and hear slavering, slurping and the crack of wet bones.

Helga, Brandis and Kerric are at the forefront, the squishier spellcaster holding the rear. Helga steps through the gate, axe brandished, and sees a undead creature rummaging through the guts of Corby the Regular.

Erevan casts a light spell, and Kerric shouts, but the zombie does not pay attention until Helga approaches. It shambles to its feet, blood and entrails drooling from its mouth, and moves toward the dwarf, who promptly separates its head from its shoulder. Rotten fluids spurt from the neck hole and the zombie collapses. But there’s another one in the trees, slowly shambling forward, and the group realizes that there are many, many gravestones in this cemetery. Erevan slays it with a single magic missile.

Kerric pushes inside, tossing a sunrod toward the center of the graveyard. It sends a welcome blaze of light spreading every direction. Only areas shielded by granite mausoleums remain in total darkness. Wolftooth in hand, Brandis Padraig approaches the mysterious blue circle of light, scanning for enemies. At the corner of the mausoleum he hears soft crying, a woman’s lament, and definitely NOT the little girls from the keep, Sir Keegan’s ghostly dead twins. Peeking around, he’s not entirely surprised to see a dirty-faced Ninaran the Half-Elf crumpled on the ground.

“I’m so sorry!” she wails, obviously distraught. Her face is streaked with tears, her cheeks gaunt and hollow. She trembles head to foot. “I made a mistake!” she moans. “I…a…a mistake…” Her voice trails off into incoherence. Beside Ninaran is a crumpled piece of paper stained with unknown fluids. He picks it and scans over the letter quickly, disturbed by what it says. Ninaran, it seems, is Winterhaven’s little spy, and here on orders from Kalarel.

Brandis clearly sees a large circle on the ground inscribed with runes, but the magic is well beyond his comprehending. More disturbing is the shallow grave in the middle…

…and the hand rising out of it.

Soon followed by the stiff, lurching motions of a familiar elf who has just recently died.

Ash.

Dirt falls away from Ash’s pale, emaciated face, already crawling with maggots. Ninaran’s clumsy attempt to bring him back has only made the elf a mockery of who he once was, and Ninaran seems acutely aware of her mistake. And perhaps many of her other mistakes.

Ash stumbles toward Brandis, hands outstretched to attack, but the warlord beheads the ex-rogue in one quick strike with Wolftooth, and his one-time companion is sent to eternal rest. That leaves Ninaran blubbering in the corner though, and she could still be a threat. After all, she allied herself with Kalarel, a power-mad priest of Orcus, and has already caused untold damage. There’s more to learn from her, but for now Ninaran is bound and tied so that she cannot harm anyone. She does not resist and slumps to the ground, shell-shocked and incoherent in her grief. There’s some discussion about what to do with her, fearing that something could easily kill Ninaran and prevent them from questioning her later.

But all is not quiet in the graveyard. More and more graves are becoming disturbed; dirt froths and spits forth; hands and heads begin to rise from multiple directions, and a low, moaning ululation sweeps across the cemetery, growing in severity. Helga charges the north quadrant, positioning herself over newly rising corpses and decapitates them. Irann the warlock teleports to the top of the nearest cairn, while Kerric and Erevan take a closer look at the mysterious blue runes. It is obviously some sort of dark magic reanimating the bodies, but neither understands the dweomer enough to influence it. It is, perhaps, too late already. The damage has been done.

Kerric the Paladin tentatively approaches the largest mausoleum in the cemetery, one with two green copper imps squatting on the lintel. The gate has been torn apart and he hears moans inside. Erevan tosses a light spell directly into the entrance. Kerric, Brandis and Helga position themselves at the front. There is movement inside, and then Kerric hears a distinct chuckle!

Not good.

Something intelligent is in there, something obviously taking pleasure in what is about to happen. Zombies start lurching out, but everyone’s readied actions hack them to pieces. Bodies litter the entrance, but then a new foe swings around the corner, its face a horribly mangled visage of terror:

Helga and Brandis are overcome by unnatural terror, compelled to flee from Lord Maw on their next turn, but Kerric steels his nerves against the unnatural effect.

“You shall not leave here, creature of undeath!” the paladin shouts. This is Kerric’s passion in life, to eradicate the undead and thereby serve his god Kelemvor, and this creature before him, some sort of revenant, is an unholy blight upon the world, and Kerric risks life and limb to destroy it.

The revenant (an inquisitor actually) answers with a gravelly laugh and lashes out with his whip, even as more zombies trundle out from the hidden chamber. “Tear them to pieces!” the inquisitor shouts, and the zombies all get free attacks. Kerric charges him, his longsword glowing brilliantly with holy radiance, and slams into Maw’s shoulder.

But seconds before impact, a globe of gloom surrounds the inquisitor, partially drinking the sword’s radiance and reducing damage. Their eyes meet, and the inquisitor’s soulless gaze nearly paralyzes Kerric, but he resists again. Unperturbed, the paladin of Kelemvor continues his attack, determined to wipe the grin from the thing’s face, but from nowhere a huge, shadowy hand appears, wraps around Kerric’s torso, and bodily FLINGS him from the mausoleum!

Helga and Brandis have already retreated, unwilling to even look at Lord Maw, but they discover a new wave of zombies rising from the western side of the cemetery. A LOT of zombies. Half the graveyard has vomited forth its progeny, and these shambling things are all headed toward the fight. Furthermore, more foes sweep around the corner from a hidden exit on the south side of the mausoleum.

Erevan rains down eldritch fire, and Irann showers down purple curses and blasts, obliterating handfuls of the undead as they surge toward easier targets on the ground. Within seconds a large group has clustered around Helga and Brandis, and from within the mausoleum Lord Maw shrieks: “TEAR THEM TO PIECES! NOW!” Claws rake across armor and flesh, but the warriors retaliate, butchering the zombies into messy gobs.

 

[Nebulous]

Adventure #7: Lord of the Maw & Boss of the Fat

PART THREE

But then Helga meets the gaze of the Inquisitor. Its unholy stare bores into her mind, rooting her to the spot in paralytic terror. And she’s STILL too scared to approach the thing even if she weren’t immobilized. If the zombies manage to surround her…

But Kerric isn’t overcome by fear. Hatred of the undead burns within him like a flame. He charges past Maw’s minions, sprints back into the mausoleum, and brings the edge of his blade cracking down. Radiance sears necrotic flesh from Maw’s face, and he staggers away, shrieking, his shield of gloom expired. Kerric finds he is alone in the crypt with the servant of Kalarel. Maw staggers to his feet, uncoiling the whip and lashing out again and again, but it bounces off Kerric’s armor. And Maw fails to recharge his powers, Claw of Orcus or Speed of the Damned.

Raising his blade high, holy energy emanating forth, Kerric slams the sword down, skewering Lord Maw through the breastbone. The blow sends Maw flying over a casket and he crumples into a lifeless heap, finally vanquished (and not even getting a chance to use all his powers!). Kerric yanks the magical amulet off Maw’s throat and gives it to the wizard.

With Maw dead, the fight is soon over. The blue glow fades from the enchanted circle, and the cemetery returns to utter silence. Not a bad job. They wiped up dozens of foes who would have terrorized the outlying farms, killing families and children, and the Winterhaven Regulars would have been forced to confront Lord Maw on their own…and probably perished. Only a small squadron of trained fighters exists to protect the whole town and the outlying fields.

Taking a breather, they decide to question Ninaran the half-elf who is still subdued. Teary and mumbling, she begins telling a story in hushed tones, one that the group is not sure they entirely believe. Brandis Padraig, most of all, does not want to believe it.

Because…

…as Ninaran tells it, Lord Ernest Padraig is her full-blooded father.

Many years ago a younger (and equally randy) Ernest Padraig bedded an elven woman. She bore a child from this union, but worse, she was deeply in love with Ernest Padraig. But he would have nothing of the relationship, especially given the political circles in which he was involved. It would be scandalous to even consider such a thing. He washed his hands clean of both she and the child, a little half-elf girl named Ninaran,

But in her grief, the mother died not long after childbirth, leaving Ninaran lost and alone in a largely uncaring world. Alone that is, until her mother’s spirit returned one day, whispering of secrets and vengeance from beyond the grave, whispering of justice against the human who brought so much misery and pain to Ninaran’s life and who killed her mother.

Revenge against Lord Ernest Padraig, his family, and all that he holds dear.

The ghost, a banshee as some would call it, shared these corrupt thoughts with her daughter, and in due time introduced Ninaran to someone who would help exact the revenge she sought:

A man named Kalarel.

And Ninaran has served Kalarel for many months now, feeding him information, exchanging notes, updating him on who is in town, and otherwise making sure that his plans, whatever they are, would not be disturbed. But it was not until Ninaran saw the corpses rising that she realized the true fault of her ways and just how far she had stepped over the boundaries of mortal decency and wallowed in the realm of corrupt necromantic evil. Even the elf Ash- beautiful Ash - became a hideous thing.

Well, that’s nice, but the group isn’t exactly enamored by Ninaran’s sob story. They brusquely pull her up and push her into Winterhaven, where they’ll let the authorities decide what to do with her. But upon reaching the estate of Lord Padraig, Brandis has a few questions for his father: namely, is what Ninaran told them true?

Sighing, the still-intoxicated Ernest Padraig closes the door to the study.

“It is…possible,” he says quietly to the group. “But not proven! Not proven. But…there was an elf woman once, yes. Long ago. Long…long ago.”

Brandis begins to wonder just how many children his father has sired across the lands. How many half brothers and sisters does he actually have? Regardless, Padraig pleads for them to tell no one, and this information must not leave the walls. And above all his wife Cynthia must not know. Well, the group wouldn’t mind some gold sealing their lips, but Padraig is exhausted and drunk, and would like to sleep on it and speak with them more tomorrow.

The rest of the night passes uneventfully, and since only Kerric the Paladin burned a daily power in the battle against the inquisitor, they decide to press on that very morning and return to Shadowfell Keep, without even talking to Padraig first. Time is of the essence, and if the confiscated note from Ninaran is any indication, Kalarel will soon complete his ritual and open the rift to the Shadowfell, an unhappy event that the heroes are sure will spell doom for everyone--and possibly themselves too. If Lord Maw is a precursor to what sort of creature will roam the countryside under the Shadowfell, they definitely don’t want to see that happen.

 

[Nebulous]

Adventure #7: Lord of the Maw & Boss of the Fat

PART FOUR

The rest of the night passes uneventfully, and since only Kerric the Paladin burned a daily power in the battle against the inquisitor, they decide to press on that very morning and return to Shadowfell Keep, without even talking to Padraig first. Time is of the essence, and if the confiscated note from Ninaran is any indication, Kalarel will soon complete his ritual and open the rift to the Shadowfell, an unhappy event that the heroes are sure will spell doom for everyone--and possibly themselves too. If Lord Maw is a precursor to what sort of creature will roam the countryside under the Shadowfell, they definitely don’t want to see that happen.


RETURN to SHADOWFELL KEEP

They arrive the following morning, the 7th of Mirtul. The sky is clear and blue, a light breeze ruffling their clothes and hair. Less than 24 hours have passed since they were here, and it remains to be seen if they successfully trapped the goblins and Boss Fatty in their chamber. Splug is with them again, humming and mumbling, eager to please his new masters who have emphatically promised that NO…they won’t eat him…so long as he obeys their wishes. Miraculously enough he did not try to escape while they were fighting in the graveyard. Splug must be intimidated past any thought of self- preservation or betrayal.

Atop the rocky knoll they see evidence of activity. Multiple footprints, both small and large, have disturbed the grass and dirt. Sunlight illuminates the stairs, so brandishing his longsword, Kerric descends as quietly as a clumsy warrior in plate armor can manage. But the paladin nearly stumbles over a hidden tripwire! He sees it in time and gingerly lifts his boot over the string. It is nearly invisible, stretching down the stairwell and around the corner, hugging the junction of floor and wall. This was not here before.

Using her meager rogue skills, the half-elf warlock Irann inspects the string, searching for traps. It doesn’t seem rigged to collapse the ceiling or anything so treacherous, so perhaps it is an early warning system. Everyone carefully steps over the string and they descend back into the pillared rat pit trap room.

The fake canvas floor has been replaced over the rodents. Beyond where they fought the goblin guards, all bodies have been removed and blood mopped up. Down the eastern stairwell toward the excavation site is only seething darkness and no sound. Peeking around the corner toward the torture chamber, Brandis sees the two double doors cracked open, the iron chains removed. Yes, somehow the goblins escaped, and not only that, they set traps in case the heroes returned to finish the fight.

Well, as luck would have it, the heroes are back and the goblins are none the wiser. As far as they know…

They move up, shuffling down the hall as quietly as possible. The torture room is shut and the storage room is shut. They discuss their options, wavering between a full frontal assault or trying to lure the enemy out again. They even discuss some Prestidigitation illusions, but ultimately, Erevan uses mage hand on the torture room door and quietly opens it; there is no one visible inside. They don’t want to walk in front of the cracked double doors because someone watching would immediately spot them.

Still, Erevan takes a risk and peeks around the corner. He sees a wooden table at the end of a long corridor. One goblin has his back to the door; a second goblin is facing Erevan, but was looking down at some dice on the table. Hanging over their heads is a brass bell attached to the string.

Well, this is it, the guard station. The heroes still have the element of surprise, and Erevan opens the fight with a SCORCHING BURST!

Flames explode over the table, blackening the dice, burning the chairs, snapping the string…and missing both goblins. They leap up, screeching, and immediately turn toward the doors.

The little buggers are armed with spears and javelins, and they immediately hurl projectiles at the intruders. Kerric is brutally injured, and the goblin cackles in wicked glee. But Brandis and Helga surge down the hall, forcing the goblins to retreat toward a black curtain. One is already bloodied and limping, but the other makes it to the curtain and rips it down, screaming for help in his guttural goblin tongue.

A door opens and more goblins pour out of a room.

The defenders are at the forefront of the battle, pressing the advantage. The warlock continues cursing anyone in sight, and more often than not, eldritch purple flames explode from the eyes and mouths of unsuspecting minions.

Kerric advances to a second door where he sees a goblin peeking through. Not giving the monster another chance, Kerric kicks the door open and strikes! His blade hews the goblin in half, but it had four more friends waiting just beyond, and all of their blades stab toward the paladin. He deflects two, weathers the sting of a third, and the fourth bounces off his armor. And then the paladin quickly shuts the door!

“There’s a lot of these guys!” shouts Helga the dwarf, who has opened a door to another room bristling with gobber warriors. She tears into the middle of them, hacking viciously left and right. Brandis advances to a wide set of wooden double doors, wondering what might be behind them…but he goes to help Kerric instead on his side of the battle.

But seconds after he has stepped away, the double doors swing open and a new voice shouts out from within:

“KILL THEM!” It’s shouted in goblin tongue though, so everyone except Brandis just hears, “MOR GRASKA!”

A fat, ugly goblin is wielding a crossbow, and he’s standing well back from the doors that an ally has opened. This is Balgron the Fat, known as Boss Fatty to Splug, and he’s a fiend with a crossbow. A projectile whistles out, embeds in Irann’s thigh and hampers her movement.

Meanwhile, the dwarf is dancing with gobs to the south, while Kerric is managing the north room. Fighting in close, confined spaces is preventing anyone from getting surrounded, although the battle has now reached three fronts. Kerric and Brandis cut down another foe, and for the second time Kerric quickly shuts the door, winking at a goblin, promising that they’ll be seeing each other again soon.

The goblin looks terrified.

Confident that the paladin can handle the enemy, Brandis rushes to the big double doors, slams them shut, and pushes his halberd through the handles to lock them in.

For Kerric the paladin, it’s still a standoff at the sleeping quarters. Irann rushes up to assist him, just as Kerric flings the door open and stabs a goblin to death, and then shuts the door yet again, leaving a final quivering foe inside. Kerric soon hears a shriek of pain though through the closed door and finds that the goblin has impaled himself on his own spear rather than confront the enemy.

Erevan and Helga pick off the last stragglers in their room, which is awash with red blood by now, and reconvene with their comrades. It has been 3 or 4 rounds since Brandis shut Boss Fatty away, and they’re getting worried that they might have left the bastard alone for too long. What if he’s setting a trap for them?

Like a cabbage cannon?

No, that just won’t do at all, so Helga and Brandis charge into the bedchamber, determined to squash him once and for all…but there’s no sign of Fatty.

Curtains have been ripped down that offered privacy around a simple sleeping cot, but a small hatchway hangs open. Peering down the hole, Helga can’t see anything until Erevan casts a light spell into the depths. They can barely see a section of flagstone tunnel at the end.

“Where does it go?” asks the dwarf, preparing to scramble down into the hole to follow the goblin boss.

“Wait,” says Brandis, a hand to her shoulder. The warlord pulls out their scribbled map of the keep, noting where they are and where they have been. “That tunnel probably leads down to the excavation site.”

“There’s no way out.”

“Not quite,” says Brandis. He taps a small unmarked tunnel. “Natural caves here. Where Splug was attacked. By…something.”

They all peer down the small tunnel, knowing that if they’re going to catch Boss Fatty, they’ll have to follow him into whatever dank hole he crawls…

And there we stopped.


[GM Note: Lord Maw’s stats]