The following is part two (of two) of Session #17, and represents about average length of an installment in my "Second Son of a Second Son" story hour. This is part of a very old school dungeon delve that eventually gets complicated in the ways things often do in my campaigns (though this particular installment doesn't get to the complication).
I use a combination of footnotes and links to the Aquerra wiki to give additional information when needed or just interesting.
There is a link to the story hour thread in my sig.
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Session #17 – “Into the Moor-Tomb” (part 2 of 2)
“It acts as a spyglass of sorts!” Victoria of Anhur called down with uncommon wonder in her voice. She noticed a silver arrow between the two lenses and followed it with her eyes. It revealed a lake set into a black hill surrounded by thick brush. It went back several miles.
“That must be where the tomb is,” she said as she climbed back down. Bleys had Falco climb up and look to get an idea of a route out to that place, while he produced the moor-tomb map and a quill. He had Laarus read the inscriptions again, and this time he wrote them down, next to a quick diagram of the obelisk itself.
“Pointed tower keyhole to tomb,” Laarus said, remembering the map.
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“Well, we looked through the keyhole and now we know where the tomb is,” Timotheus said with a smile.
Soon after Falco began to lead them deeper into the moors to the northeast. The insects grew unbearable making itchy welts on their face and necks that burned in the wet heat if scratched at. At many points in the trek they had to wade though thigh-high muck, and cling to trees as they hurried along patches of what Falco thought might be quicksand. It was nearly three hours later that they broke through the tall thorny brush around the black hill to find a clearing and the placid lake. A gravel path led up to the lake edge and just beyond were five stone steps rising out of the water eighty feet in. They led to a marble pedestal that held a great stained bronze bowl of some sort that looked as it was once at the foot of a statue long broken off its base. Another eighty feet out past that was a metal door in an elaborate stone arch that was only reached by a narrow stone platform about five feet over the surface of the water. It led into the tall cliff wall of where a great oval bite had been taken out of the hill. The tops of the cliff walls were nearly one hundred and fifty feet up and crowned with sharp jagged rocks.
“Bes’ big-honkin’ cock!” Timotheus swore. “This looks like more magic stuff! Bah!”
“This is out of our league,” Telémahkos sighed.
“Why do you say that, Telémahkos? Who is to say what is in our league?” Markos asked.
“Yes, magic is involved,” Bleys said. “Dalvan Meir, was of
House Amber, he changed his name after he was banished by his family, but before that he was Dalvan D’Amberville, and he served
Agon the God-King. He ruled over the survivors and cast offs of
Agon’s Realm after Agon was defeated by
Sorlorn and
Amarantha. He built this elaborate tomb to protect his remains and his treasure, and his followers mimicked him in the centuries that followed. There were once many such tombs to be found here, but most were long ago ransacked, or otherwise sunk into the swamp never to be found again…”
“If this is so simple we can handle it, why has no one else solved its riddles and made off with its treasures and the amulet of Fallon?” Telémahkos asked.
“I did not say it would be simple, but I still believe we can handle it,” Bleys replied.
“We have the clues to aid us from the obelisk,” Laarus added. “There are not many left who can read those runes…”
“You make a decent point, I guess…” Telémahkos’ voice still wore a tone of skepticism.
As it was getting dark and they were worried that they might be caught out in the open by more of the ‘mummy cultists’ as they took to calling the grappling adherers, they sent Falco off to find a defensible place to camp while they discussed the clues they had gathered so far.
“I bet we’re going to have to put money in that bowl out there,” Timotheus said.
“Desire for gold may secrets show, But giving stills the fatal blow,” Bleys the Aubergine read from the notes on his map. “My guess would be you are correct.”
Anulem, the 7th of Keent - 566 H.E. (637 M.Y.)
Uneasiness settled on them with the morning mist that cut down visibility to a few feet, and that roiled above their heads in and out of the speckled light of Ra’s Glory coming through the thicket they slept beneath. They groaned and stretched as they awakened upon the damp heather and prepared their return to the entrance to the tomb of Dalvan d’Amberville wordlessly.
They marched back and soon enough Markos and Timotheus were rowing Bleys and Laarus out to the steps and pedestal on the
conjured boat.
“Which one is your boyfriend?” Crusta asked Victoria as the latter watched the cliff for any unexpected surprises.
“None of them,” Victoria replied. “They are my brothers in arms.”
”Bleys handsome…” Crusta said. “Tee-Kay soft and mean like a girl… Me likes that…” She smiled her smile of broken rotted teeth and cracked black lips. Victoria shuddered. “You should tell him that,” she said.
“Boyfriend would get jealous,” Crusta said.
“It is not our fault if men get jealous,” Victoria replied with dead seriousness.
Just below the bronze bowl, carved into the rock were more runes, and Laarus did his best to translate them:
Respect this tomb, so firmly sealed / Most giving gain admittance / A noble gift will gain fair yield / A shocking due for pittance. The bowl had a hole in the bottom, and Telémahkos was called over to check the area for any traps. Markos fetched him in the boat, and Falco came along. The hole was not more than three inches in diameter and disappeared quickly to darkness sloping off to the north. They could hear a faint buzzing coming from the metal door across the water.
“One gold piece each sounds about right,” Laarus suggested.
“That is an expensive experiment,” Bleys commented, but no one had any other suggestion. Markos rowed back to the shore again to pick up Crusta, Victoria and Dunlevey. Upon arriving the militant prayed to Anhur to reveal magical auras to her sight, but aside from
the Steel Whip, only the metal door across the way was enchanted. Telémahkos, Bleys, Timotheus and Dunlevey took the boat in two trips to the door and climbed up onto the stone platform, being careful not to touch the metal door. They could feel a slight tingling coming off of it, and from here the buzzing was distinct and constant. Bleys cast
radiant spark and willed it to follow Tim. Markos waited in the boat by the steps, as Laarus stood over the bronze bowl with gold coins collected from those in the party that had any.
The priest of Ra began to drop the coins one by one and when he reached ten, those by the metal door heard a loud clank on the other side and then sound of stone scraping against stone just behind it. A few moments later there was another loud click and then the buzzing of the metal door stopped.
“Stop!” Bleys called back to Laarus, though the priest had already dropped an eleventh coin.
The watch-mage and the tall bastard of Briareus grabbed the handles of the sliding door and felt the sharp shock of electricity leap off of it and addle their bones. Gritting their teeth they raised the door as the pulse of sparks grew steadily greater along with the pain.
“Hurry up!” Timotheus said through his teeth. Laarus and Victoria leapt into the boat and were brought across, as Telémahkos did his best to quickly search the area just within the door. Beyond there was a tunnel carved with long steps downward, the rounded walls and ceiling dripping with moisture. He noticed a second door just within the metal one. This one was made of stone and over a foot thick. It must have been what they heard slide out of place when the coins were placed in the bowl. He warned everyone that they would have to leap deeper into the tunnel once the metal door was let go. When Laarus arrived and Markos went back to get Falco and Crusta, the priest switched places with Bleys who shuddered as he shook out the cramping pain in his limbs There were long painful moments before everyone had finally clambered up to the platform and gone past the door into the tunnel.
2 Laarus and Timotheus let go of the metal door with a grunt of relief, and then leapt away, as the thick stone door began to slide down to doubly block the way they had come in. The boom of it sliding into place echoed down the tunnel.
“That settles it then,” Telémahkos was startled by how loud his own whisper seemed in the corridor, he squinted into the shadowy illumination at the edge of the
radiant spark. “Forward and onward, I guess…” He sounded anything but sure.
“Well, Master Bleys, I hope we find what we’re looking for,” Victoria of Anhur said with some consternation in her voice.
“And I hope we are let out as easily as we were let in.” Telémahkos added.
“Easy? Eleven pieces of gold is a good deal of money,” Bleys said with total seriousness.
Timotheus led the way, Bleys’
radiant spark still following over his shoulder. He was followed by Telémahkos, then came Laarus, Bleys, Tymon, Dunlevey, Victoria, Falco, and Markos and Crusta took up the rear. “Hey! What’s this?” Tim asked, noting that the natural stone walls gave was to a narrow strips of grooves in the rock that reached from floor to ceiling. Telémahkos yanked his cousin back with alarm and looked up. The ceiling here was not round as the rest of the passage, but flat at about the same width as the groove.
“We are going to have to hurry past this four foot strip,” said to the others. “I think this is another door that will slide down when we have passed this step. They did as he instructed, and as he suspected another wall of stone slid down blocking their egress. They had to go forward. Telémahkos hurried back to the front of the group again, and on they went.
And down and down they went. The passage turned and dropped, and after every eighty feet or so another stone wall would slide down behind them, pressing them forward and making their confines all the more oppressive. The uneasiness of morning had given way to a feeling of doom, though none wanted to put a name to it. When they counted six walls sliding in behind them, they made one last turn to find the glow of green light filling the passage from a room beyond. As Timotheus and Telémahkos came around that corner, they both noted another set of grooves in the wall and hurried everyone through. There was only a narrow piece of passage, about twenty feet of it that they squeezed into, hesitating before entering the actual green-lit chamber. Even back away from the entrance they could all sense a palpable evil that emanated from within.
Peering in they could see why the chamber glowed as it did. It was sixty-five feet to a side and just off center, emerging from the stone floor was a shard of green rock over eight feet tall. The green stone glowed dully in quick pulse, giving the room its light. The chamber’s ceiling was vaulted and the supporting arched held up by eight thick columns, a pair diagonally set in each corner. Between the columns on each wall were great plaques of the green stone mottled with black carved with ornate images of bones. The plaques were set into the wall a few feet from the floor and each one was about eight feet high and between three and four feet wide. But the most fascinating part of the room was the skeletons. There were eight of them in total, one in front of each column and wore a gold mask carved with a rune like those found on the trees.
3 Each skeleton was perfectly balanced in a different pose.
From right to left around the room: One was dancing arms stretched, and a scimitar in one hand, one sat, resting its head in it hands and its hand on its bony knees. It had a heavy steel shield resting on its shins, a longsword across its lap. The rune on its mask was not visible. The next was laying back, arms folded behind its skull, a scimitar lazily cast aside. The next stood perfectly straight, but its head was not on its neck. Instead it held its mask-bearing skull within a hole in its ribs. The next skeleton also wielded a scimitar, and was in a pose of fierce combat, while its neighbor bore a longsword and shield, cowering out from behind them. The last two were on the left. One held a great sword pointed up, clutched to its chest, while the last had a longspear and held it out with both hands, as if in offering.
“Can we smash those things up or are they some other kind of puzzle?” Timotheus asked.
“No one touch anything yet,” Bleys warned.
Laarus Raymer stepped up to the edge of the chamber entrance and did his best read the runes without entering. The first one was ‘happiness.’ He guessed the hidden one was ‘sadness.’ “Ya think?” Tim chided. There was ‘tranquility’ (or was it peace?), anger (or was it courage?) fear, avarice, and finally ‘generosity’ (or giving). He could not interpret the rune on the one that held its skull in its chest.
They noted that more runes were carved and painted onto the floor of the chamber in front of the strange glowing stone. Laarus translated these as well:
What guise would you wager to gain my master’s favor? It leads to man’s grief at the end of my master’s leash.
“As there is no visible way out of the room, my guess would be that one of the masks must the key to getting past this,” Bleys speculated. Telémahkos began to creep into the room with the others close behind, the watch-mage reminding everyone once again to touch nothing, but it would not matter. Telémahkos had not gone more than six or eight steps into the chamber when green stone pulsed once with a sudden cold brightness. The skeletons sprang to some parody of life, stepping towards them with apparent hostile intention.
“Everyone form a line!” Timotheus commanded in a veteran’s voice that could not be disobeyed by those experienced in the rigors of melee. Laarus raised his shield and fended off a heavy blow from a scimitar that made his legs shake.
“I’m anchoring this end,” Dunlevey said, moving to the left side of the entrance, and was surprised by how quickly the skeleton with the long spear brought it to bear, and staggered when it slapped his side hard.
“There must be a way to deactivate this stone!” Markos hurried towards the stone and left himself open to the skeletons still marching over from the other side of the room. He cried out as a scimitar traced a line of red on his forearm. As another came around him, a third rushed forward, swinging a greatsword with silent fury. There was a jet of blood and Markos crumpled at the foot of the great green stone, dying. Crusta began to shriek.
“Hide girl!” Victoria called to Crusta as she dropped her longspear and drew her morningstar. She took her place in the line and smashed at one of the skeletons.
Suddenly the great stone began to hum and once again it sent out a shockwave of green light. This time, the Signers of the Charter of Schiereiland felt as if some blot of evil grew within their very essence, devouring the light of life, and it pained them.
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“May Ra send these abominations to cower in the darkness from when they were spawned!” Laarus cried out, clutching the ankh around his neck. He felt the wave of divine energy wash out of him, but even as it did he could sense it diminish, the darkness of the tomb and the evil of the stone working against him and the will of Ra.
In the tightening cluster of skeletons and adventurers, two of the undead began to flee. Telémahkos was standing near Markos, and clicked his rapier at it as it hurried past him, but it did not seem to do much damage. “Crusta! When there’s an opening come help me help your boyfriend!” Bleys moved over to Telie’s side to help him fend off the skeletons. Laarus moved over as well, pinning one of the skeletons between them. The thing spun around, not sure which for to go for and the priest of Ra sent its head flying across the chamber, the skull cracking as it slammed the wall. The skeleton fell to its knees, but immediate tried to get back up, it had no need of a head.
“Nephthys! Bless my smashing!” Timotheus cried out and struck it hard with his heavy flail, so it did not get back up. He used the momentum he built up to swing back up at another skeleton closing in, but it blocked the flail on the flat of its scimitar. Another skeleton lost the grip on its long sword as it stabbed at Tymon and it clattered on the floor. “I disarmed it, Master!” Tymon called proudly to Telémahkos.
Victoria of Anhur hurried past the unarmed skeleton, leaving herself open to an attack from its claw-like bony hands. She grunted in pain, but got past drawing the attention of the skeleton with the greatsword. It turned to face her, its skull covered in the gold mask marked with the rune for avarice. Crusta took off around the room trying to find a way to reach Markos safely, as he was still bleeding out.
And now there was a knot of furious melee. Telémahkos and Bleys moved back and forth to keep the skeletons occupied while others smashed at them. Timotheus’ instincts made him notice an opening as Falco moved in, his scimitar sending sparks when it clashed with that of his undead opponent. The tall and muscular son of Briareus crushed it handily, his usual grin growing wider as he spun to face the one who had sent Victoria to the ground. The militant crawled through the chaos, a prayer to Anhur her lips, but before she could get the spell off, the skeleton with the great sword chopped down on her back. She groaned and fell on her stomach, feeling the blood bruise swell up beneath her armor. She looked up wincing with anticipation for another blow, but it did not come. She leapt to her feet, noticing Timotheus running through a shower of bone fragments on his way to face the skeleton with the longspear. He called Dunlevey off, sending him to help the others.
Laarus let out a satisfied grunt as he smashed another skeleton, is gold mask clattering on the floor.
“Anhur, let this boy live to see another day,” Victoria finally had a chance to see to Markos unthreatened by the skeletal undead, but as she cast the spell she also noticed that Markos had stabilized. Crusta was sitting with the sun-tanned mage’s head in her lap, stroking his hair and making murmuring noises. “Isis, take care of my boyfriend,” she said, and he finally sputtered awake.
By this time Timotheus was charging the two remaining skeletons who were cowering away from Laarus in one corner, while Dunlevey and Tymon finished one last one. As the chamber grew silent, the young nobles and their hirelings and followers took a collective breath, but the air down here was foul and they were filled with a sense that they should find the way out as quickly as possible. The masks were collected and examined.
“Which of these emotions leads to man’s grief at the end of a leash?” Bleys asked. “My guess is that the answer lies in that question.”
“But what of the clues on the spire?” Victoria said. “Shall we not consider those?”
“It could be greed…” Bleys mused, not answering the militant. “Or perhaps serenity? As in the serenity of death? Dalvan
was a necromancer…”
All this time the great green stone hummed softly, but suddenly it gave off a pulse of green light again, and again they felt the deep cold of evil in their soul.
“We have to do something to get out of here,” Telémahkos said, clutching his chest dramatically.
“If no one is sure then someone just take our best guess,” Timotheus said. “If someone needs to put the mask on, I will do it…”
“Don’t be a fool,” Victoria admonished him. “It seems to me that whichever way we choose will lead to grief, so even the ‘right’ choice may be dangerous to us.”
“Well then, I am the best one to take it,” Timotheus said, smiling. He began to gather the skeletons’ weapons, as Bleys arranged the masks on the floor and made ready to cast
detect magic. There was another pulse, and this time Falco, Crusta and Markos let out groans of agony, unable to hold back.
“Well, all the masks are magical,” Bleys said a moment later. “I only had a chance to look at a few before the spell’s duration ended, but they seem to hold necromantic and enchantment dweomers.”
Timotheus picked up the mask with the rune Laarus had translated as representing happiness. “I am going to put this one on, okay?” he asked. “You think it is this one?”
“The never-ending search for happiness does sometimes lead to the end of a leash,” Bleys reasoned.
“Don’t put anything on, blockhead!” Telémahkos slapped his cousin’s shoulder.
“You know, maybe the last adventurers who got into this place put on those masks and they became the skeletons we just destroyed,” Markos offered. As the speculation continued in earnest, Telémahkos began to search the area around each of the columns looking for some kind of secret passage out of the room.
There was another pulse and a sense of panic wafted in the room to mingle with the dread already found there.
Markos grabbed Crusta by the wrist and led her out to the narrow bit of hall that led into the chamber that was not blocked off, hoping it might keep them out of the range of the pulse of vile energy. Falco followed, as did Tymon, once Telémahkos told him he might as well try. Meanwhile, the blond Briareus was still searching, and it was over by the pillar where the skeleton wearing the mask marked with rune for anger or courage that he noted an unusual amount of moisture beading through a seam in the stone wall behind the great plaque of green stone there. He dug at the wall with a finger and the stone flaked and gravely mud crumbled out from behind the seam. He showed the others what he found.
“It looks like there is some kind of damage to the structural integrity of this chamber,” Telémahkos said. “We might be able to pull this wall down, or at least a big enough chunk to get out of here without having to risk a mask…”
“Or we might flood the chamber and end up killing all of us,” Laarus replied. “Even if the water is not enough to drown us, the chamber may collapse…”
Bleys shrugged, “At least if we cause a flood and wash the masks away no other can enter this tomb and share in our folly.”
“We got
Bes, that’s all we need,” Telémahkos said.
“We could try to break a wall where there is no water,” Bleys speculated aloud.
“It is only loose because of the running water,” Telémahkos replied.
Timotheus walked over and examined the wall flail in hand.
“Don’t you go smashing anything, Moose!” Telémahkos slapped his cousin’s shoulder. “Grab on to the stone plaque there and pull instead.”
“Better a moose than a weasel,” Timotheus replied with a smile, and he began to pull on the green stone plaque. Victoria walked over and aided him. The whole thing shifted less than an inch, and a sputter of mud and grit poured out from behind it. Telémahkos stopped them and examined the wall and then listened. He gave them the okay to continue, and a moment later the entire plaque cracked into three pieces and fell onto the floor. They leapt back as a torrent of mud made a pile on the floor. A few more moments of digging and a natural passage of hollowed out mud was revealed beyond. They could hear the steady beat of gouts of water from beyond. The passage climbed sharply to the left, disappearing into darkness.
A rope was fastened about Telie’s waist and Timotheus held the other end while his cousin explored the sudden egress holding a lit lantern. The muddy sides of the tunnel dripped and crumbled as he climbed, and about thirty feet in he emerged from the wound in the earthen wall of a natural cavern. Here walls were tall and slick with mud, water was splashing down in a staccato waterfall along from a shaft in the one corner of the ceiling and disappeared down into a dark hole beyond. Telémahkos carefully walked out into the middle of the cavern and noticed there was another way out, a narrow passage of mud that curved and disappeared down to the right. He walked over and raised his lantern, but could see no further than about forty of fifty feet. He hurried back, arriving in time to feel another of the evil pulses.
“I found a chamber you all can wait in while I explore a possible way out,” Telémahkos said, wincing. “I think it will be far enough away from this stone to not have to worry about it hurting us anymore.”
“Well, it is either that or try the masks,” Laarus said.
“We risk Telémahkos’ way,” Bleys said steadily. Telémahkos climbed back up to steady the rope from that end as the others made their way up one by one to keep from collapsing the way out. As Victoria, Laarus, Bleys and Timotheus waited their turns, being the last to go, the stone pulses once again, and once again they felt its soul-wracking cold pain. Finally, they all made it up into the cavern, wary of its muddy walls and torrents of water. They waited until enough time had passed that they thought the stone would have pulsed again, but nothing happened. Out of sight of the stone, and feeling no foul pain, they had to assume they were safe for the time being.
End of Session #17
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Notes:
(1) To see the map,
click here.
(2) Those holding the door had to make Fortitude saves or take increasing damage every five rounds. Thus, they took 1 point the first time, 2 points the second time, etc…
(3) See Session #16.
(4) They did not know it yet, but they were suffering
vile damage. I don’t care what anyone says, I think
The Book of Vile Darkness was a great book.
