The Ambergate Chronicles - Galahorn or the Curious Adventure of the Glass Coffin

[eris404]

Thanks everyone for the kind words!

Lela - This was a really fun adventure and I hope you do find a copy.

KidCharlemagne - That's one of the things I love about group, that we can latch onto an "insignicant" NPC, adopt them and turn them into something the GM did not intend. I can think of a couple of villains in some of my campaigns, for example, that were entirely not my fault.

More story coming up.

 

[eris404]

“Little green men?” Serai asks. “That’s the second time we’ve heard that. And Othic’s” she pauses here to swallow,”…horses said they were blue. What do you think that means?”

Dante shakes his head. “I’m not familiar with either, though possibly it could be fey of some sort.”

“We should start moving,” Jade interjects. He looks at the sky, then the mountain and the rock at its base. “You’re not expert climbers and it might take us a while to find an entrance.”

After a half-day of climbing over jagged rocks and thorny scrub, the band finds a shaft sealed with copper sheets, much stained and tarnished green from weather. One corner has been curled back by heating and bending the metal with crude tools. A thick, new rope is dangling from the otherwise old and rusted winch underneath. Judging from the roar of water below, the shaft must be a hundred feet or so straight down.

Unable to contain his excitement, George volunteers to go first. He’s an athletic lad who enjoyed climbing and swimming as a small boy and the shaft reminds him of the caves in the cliffs of his native Mavarre. Besides, he is anxious to show off for Serai. He checks and loads his trusty old pistol, lights a lantern and descends. As he climbs, he notices a platform of wood about halfway down and shouts this intelligence to his friends above. The wood seems stout, so he feels safe to stand and look about.

The water comes from another shaft and falls into a stream another fifty or sixty feet below the platform. The shaft is limestone supported by creaking wooden beams, all of which is covered with a sheen of water and slime. Large, dark beetles scurrying from the light of George’s lamp as he peers about and discovers a passage leading into a cave or chamber.

“It’s alright,” George calls over the rush of the falls. He braces the rope and his friends come down one by one.

Following the beetles through the passage, the band finds a large, square chamber filled with decaying mining equipment smelling strongly of mildew: wheelbarrows, pick axes, shovels. The room in the dim light feels expansive, larger than it actually is. The water dripping from the ceiling makes soft echoes against the stone floor and the support beams groan alarmingly loud.

“Someone’s been here,” Serai notes, pointing to a path made through the piles of junk. She catches a glint in the firelight and rescues a small copper statue of a dragon from the filth. “Clean off the tarnish and this could be worth something.”

In a single-file line, the band follows the path into a mined area filled with small loose stones. George playful chases the beetles and notes that the walls are covered in bluish slime. In spite of his curiosity, he decides it would be prudent not to touch it. Then he notices an elaborate archway, somewhat out of place in this rough environment; its capstone is carved with the head of a dragon. He stops to examine it closely with his lantern, then sees something beyond that makes him gasp.

“Dante!” he calls and though he intended his voice to be soft, it echoes uncomfortably loud against the rock. Dante scowls, but looks where George points.

Beyond the archway, the passage continues on and another intersects it. At the crossroads, three severed heads have been stacked in a pyramid. Beetles scurry in empty eye sockets and open mouths, but scatter when the band approaches the arch.

“What are they?” George whispers.

“The top one is female, an elf I think,” Dante lectures. “But George, surely you know those two at the bottom are goblins. Green-skinned goblins,” he adds meaningfully.

George’s eyes widen with understanding. Dante realizes what George means to do and reaches out to grab his shirt, but is too late to stop him from crossing the threshold. The heads in unison scream in unholy, gurgling voices.

“Shut up!” George screams back.

Jade rushes forward and strikes one with his scimitar, cutting it in twain, while Serai hits another. Both go silent. In a panic, George kicks the last head down the passage and it wails as it sails through the air. Dante calmly loads his crossbow and hits it in the forehead. The screams cease, leaving a silence ringing in their ears.

For a moment, they wait, panting and listening. The only noise for some time is the whisper of wind that flows up from the deeper parts of the mine.

Jade turns sharply to Dante. He points to George and snaps, “Keep him on a leash!” As a feeble apology, George shrugs.

Dante ignores them both for the moment. The dead are his specialty and the severed heads fascinate him. He lifts the female head and examines it.

“Didn’t the Mayor say that one of the searchers looking for the children was an elf?” he asks. Jade nods and his face is grim at the sight of his kinswoman’s mutilated remains. Dante continues, “And these goblins have been dead less than a week as well.” He hesitates, then asks Jade, “How do your people deal with your dead?”

The elf replies, “By avenging them, for a start.”

Dante nods and gently places the remains on the mine floor.

George, still in the lead of our little band, enters the next chamber on quiet and nimble feet. It is a large and finished area and he notes the wooden frame and its rotted door leaning against the wall. The brittle remains of mattresses are heaped at one end of the room, against a mural in three panels. George holds up his lantern to get a better look. The paint is flaking from the stone, but he can still make out clearly a massive dragon looking wise and benevolent as tiny men dig with pickaxes and shovels and cart away stone in wheelbarrows. Other men present the dragon with gifts of copper bells and other art objects. George turns at a noise behind him, but it is just Dante poking at the bedding with his staff.

“Stop it, Dante. That smells really bad,” George says, backing away.

“There’s something dead in here, but it’s just a husk,” he murmurs. “The stink is much worse than the decay would suggest.” He looks up at George. “Troglodytes?”

George shudders. “I hope not.”

 

[eris404]

Deeper the party goes into the old mines and splash through shallow pools of stagnant water, disturbing the scum that collected on the surface. Serai does her best to avoid them, but the hem of skirt is still wet and covered in filth, much to her disgust. The floor is slick with slime in places and has an unnatural blue cast. Some passages have collapsed into rubble and the remaining support beams groan loudly under the weight of the mountain.

“Do you think it’s still safe to be in here?” George asks.

“What do I look like, a dwarf?” Jade replies dryly.

Dante decides to placate George. “I can’t say for certain, but I don’t think these happened recently.” While examining a pile, he finds a flat stone near a large pool of green water; the stone has words carved crudely upon it. He reads aloud:

“Here lies Kormastos dissolved before we could save him. We know the child has been taken to the tunnels above us. We continue on.”

Jade gestures for Dante to stand aside and kneels next to the pool. He dips one end of a rope into the water and it dissolves as the liquid hisses and bubbles.

“Why only one child?” George asks. “Weren’t three missing?”

His question lingers in the air unanswered. The bleak message, the caved in passages and the foulness of the tunnels are discouraging and despair creeps among the adventurers. They continue on in silence and watch the flickering of their own shadows with dread. They are tired and dirty and unprepared for staying much longer underground. They are hungry, but neglected to bring any provisions other than water with them from the town. While stopping to drink, George hears a shuffling noise down a corridor.

“There’s something down there,” he whispers hoarsely while loading his pistol.

Something moans. In dim light, a stooped form drags its feet towards the party. Behind it, another, then two more, shambles on, slow but determined. The strong stench of death precedes them. They are lizardlike, but stand on two legs like a man; their scaly skin is patchy and hangs loosely from their limbs. Their tails twitch and sway with each step. Their eyes are empty sockets and their paws end in long, dirty, broken nails. George raises his pistol and Dante places a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Wait,” he whispers. “I want to try something first.”

Dante approaches them. He holds his staff aloft and pronounces a single word with great force. One of the corpses stops and tilts its head, looking like a very ugly and very dead puzzled dog.

“I’m sorry,” Dante whispers, backing away. “I can’t control them all.”

With a smirk, George fires. Chunks of dead flesh fly from the creature’s skull from the force of the blow. He reloads. Jade draws his scimitar and finishes it off with a single stroke.

A familiar sheen coats Serai’s body and she adheres to a wall. She creeps slowly to ceiling to get out of the way.

Ishii rushes forward, punching and kicking, but the stench coming from the corpses is too strong. He feels woozy and retches and a corpse takes the opportunity to scratch him with its sharp claws. Serai gasps. Thinking quickly, she points at the gnome and for a moment, he is outlined in a flash of light.

“Climb, Ishii!” she shouts. The gnome is confused for a moment, but seeing Serai clinging to the ceiling like an insect, he flings himself onto a wall and climbs out of the way. His shoulder stings where the corpse struck him.

Meanwhile, George reloads and fires again and again, easily striking the slow-moving targets. He takes down a second corpse before Dante winds his crossbow and hits the third in an empty eye socket. It crumples into a heap of skin, sinew and bone.

Somewhere further down the hall, a voice cackles.

 

[eris404]

Ishii leaps down, wheezing, while Serai opts to take her time. She notes her hands and knees are now filthy. This skirt, she decides, will need to be burnt, should she survive this.

Jade checks the scratch on Ishii’s shoulder and washes the filth out with a bit of wine. He offers the gnome some water to clear the taste of vomit from mouth and Ishii gratefully drinks the remainder of the skin. Assured that the party is fine to move on, Dante presses them forward. George reloads and scouts ahead, the corpse shambling not far behind him at Dante’s command.

Through a maze of passages, the adventures travel. They are looking tired and hungry, aren’t they? I hope they are able to find their way out again after this is all done, if any of them survive, that is.

George at last sees a light up ahead. He slows to quiet the sound of his boots on the stone floor and he creeps up to the doorway to peek in. The room is ornately carved and filled with benches on which bipedal skeletons with long, lizardlike skulls lie. One wall is covered with a life-sized, blue stone statue of a majestic dragon with its wings outstretched and large blue gems for eyes. Before it is a copper bowl on a pedestal in which flames burn, filling the room with weird cool light.

The voice cackles again. A blast of light hits a wall near George’s head. It comes from the hand (paw?) of a stooped-shouldered humanoid, his lizardish scales dull and patchy. He is a scrawny thing, missing many of the sharp little teeth in his maw, and is dressed in shabby skins.

George and Jade shoot, grazing the creature. He panics and waves his wrinkled arms in surrender.

“Who are you?” Dante calls out.

“I am called Temoruk,” he replies in passable Imperial. “Temoruk the wise, servant of the Dragon!”

 

[eris404]

George snickers, but Dante replies without a hint of irony, “Indeed, great Temoruk! We were looking for one such as you who is knowledgeable-“

“Stuff it!” the ancient, bent thing interrupts. He rubs together his hands and the dry, papery skin makes soft rasping noises. “I know what you think of me.”

Dante emerges from the hall with his hands up in a gesture of peace, but George covers him with his pistol trained on Temoruk.

“Please,” Dante continues. “We mean no harm. We’re looking for three children gone missing from Bellhold. Have you seen them?”

“Why should I help you? You came to my home and would kill me!”

“You attacked first!” George protests.

Jade raises a silencing finger to George and emerges from the darkness of the tunnel.

“We own this mine now,” he says slyly. “If you help us, we won’t force you out.”

The old troglodyte looks from Dante to the elf, then says, “I keep this section.” It is a statement, not a request.

“Sure,” Jade replies. It is an agreement, but it sounds like a threat or a king allowing a condemned man to live against his better judgement.

Next to George in the hall, Serai shakes her head. “This will come back to haunt us,” she whispers.

The critter scratches his scaly arm and replies, “No young did I see. There were big humans that came through here, though.”

“Where did they go?” Dante asks.

He scratches his chest and shakes the flaky scales loose from his paw. “Don’t know.”

Dante looks around the chamber. There is only one other exit.

“Could they have gone that way?” he suggests.

“No!” Temoruk shakes his head, rattling the necklace of bones and teeth about his neck. “That leads to the dens of my people.” He adds in a mutter, “Or it will again, rather.”

“Your people…?”

“Dead,” he confirms. “Murdered by the men who murdered my master. He will return you know. I dream it every day and your people will be slaves once more.” He rubs his hands in anticipation. “I am patient. One day our roles will be reversed, elf.”

“So, where did these men go, if not through there?”

The troglodyte sulks. “I don’t know. I hid and didn’t see. Up, I think.”

“Up where?”

“The tunnels above, to my master’s rooms.”

“Can’t you tell us how to get up there?”

The creature lowers his head, ashamed. “No. Master had a way to get to his chambers that I did not know.”

 

[Lela]

I'm not sure that was worth a section of the mine. Kill him and be done with it.

Grrrrr.

 

[Kid Charlemagne]

Jade just came out and said it - and Dante was so annoyed with him for basically giving away half the mine on a whim. It was pretty amusing when it really dawned on Dante what Jade had done.

 

[eris404]

The mines do pop again later and I will say that we aren't quite finished with them anyway.

BTW, as I will be gone this weekend and I have a midterm exam on Wednesday, this next post will probably be my last update until after my test.

 

[eris404]

George lowers his gun and ambles into the chamber. Dante is sighing and shaking his head, never a good sign. The copper bowl, with its fire, attracts George like the proverbial moth to the flame. The pedestal on which it rests is tall, so George has to hop up to grab the ledge and pull himself up. The bowl is quite large, large enough for George to stand inside it.

“George!” Serai gasps.

“It’s magic,” George explains. He waves his arm through the flames to show that they are quite cool. “See?” He climbs in and finds the bowl is full offerings: some weapons and arms, a whistle made of crystal, some coins, a few small gemstones, and a few vials of liquid: potions George guesses. He glances at the troglodyte to make sure he isn’t watching and fills his pockets before climbing out again.

“George!” Serai chides in a sharp whisper. “Get out of there!”

Meanwhile, Dante and Jade are examining the statue and have determined that the back of it is not connected to the back wall.

“It’s a door,” Dante notes, “but how to open it?”

George admires the gemstones in the statue’s eyes glittering in the firelight and wonders if he could climb up and pry them out. The climb would be steep, but he could possibly make it. He walks forward and hears crunching beneath his feet. The floor glitters with splinters of glass. George is suddenly reminded of Master Lykor’s office filled with mirrors that can see into one’s soul.

The eyes are the window to the soul, he thinks, remembering the old saying.

And then suddenly, George knows how to open the door.

He drops his pack and rummages around for his shaving mirror (not much used, to his dismay). He angles the mirror to catch the firelight and reflects it to the eyes of the statue.

Which reflect the light back to his mirror.

Which in turn reflects the light back to the eyes of the dragon.

Over and over, the light reflects and intensifies until with a bright flash the mirror shatters and the shards slash George’s skin on his arms and face. Instinctively, he puts his arms in front of his eyes to protect them.

“George!” Serai calls, alarmed. Then softly, she says, “George, look!”

He moves his bloody arms away from face and sees. The statue has moved aside, revealing a dark passageway.

Disgruntled, Temoruk huffs.

“You did it,” Serai says.

 

[eris404]

George’s triumph is short-lived. It is swallowed by the gaping hole that is the chamber beyond the statue. There is a short hush. Then Dante, with great caution and hesitation, enters it.

“It’s clear,” he says softly, though his voice still echoes against the stone walls. George brushes the glass from his arms and examines the cuts, none of which are serious, before following.

“Are you going to take point from now on?” he asks with a smirk.

But Dante is lost in thought, examining the smooth walls and the copper floor.

“These walls,” he mutters. “They’re too smooth to have been done by humans.”

“Dwarves?” Jade asks.

“Magic, more likely. And this stain, or lack thereof…it’s about the right shape for a dragon, don’t you think?”

“What do you think this was for?” Serai asks. She points to a normal-sized copper bath tub with deep grooves scratched in the bottom.

The other gather around and puzzle over it for a few, long, silent moments.

“You know,” Dante admits, “I’m not sure I want to know.”

Past the copper chamber, through wide, winding passages the party continues on. Soon the melody of falling water reflects off of stone. The passage widens and before the students see the waterfall, they can feel its cool spray. A grotto of shaped stones surrounds the falls, at the bottom of which is a large, bubbling pool.

“It’s beautiful,” Serai breathes, and the others agree. The cave is peaceful and light reflects softly off the water and makes the rock sparkle. Ishii stoops to take a drink and meets soft, laughing eyes in the water. A woman, naked and beautiful, emerges from the pool and smiles.

Ishii and Dante are smitten at once. Jade, immune to the wiles of the Fey, rests a wary hand on his scimitar. George, by sheer luck, happened to be examining the pool at that moment and notes with some alarm the bones, weapons and armor lying at its bottom.

The nymph beckons the gnome and the thin, pale lad closer to her, a command they are happy to obey.

“Jade, this isn’t right,” Serai whispers.

“Did you see the bones?” George exclaims.

“Nymphs can be dangerous,” Jade warns “We need to get them away as quickly as possible.”

“Please help me,” the nymph pleads.

“Of course!” Ishii exclaims.

“He doesn’t talk to me like he used to.”

“Who doesn’t?” Dante asks, wondering to himself who could possibly not talk to this radiant creature.

“The dragon,” she replies, no, coos to Dante, whose pale skin flushes bright enough to be seen in this dim light. “Please, you must help me, free me.”

“How?” Dante asks.

“Bring him to me. Bring the dragon to me and he will free me.”

“Enough,” Jade exclaims, rolling his eyes. “Come on, loverboys.”

“We have to help her,” Ishii explains.

“He’s right, she needs us,” Dante protests.

“And so we shall,” Serai replies smoothly. An ugly frown clouds the nymph’s beautiful face for a moment, but Serai continues, “We will find the dragon and get him to release you.”

For a moment, the nymph is doubtful, but Serai’s face is honest and innocent, completely trustworthy. She recedes into the pool, satisfied. George grabs Ishii’s shoulder and Jade grips Dante’s upper arm to lead them away.

“Do you think we’ll find the dragon this way?” Ishii asks.

“I hope not,” George whispers back.

“I sense something,” Serai interrupts with a slight frown. The others hush, listening. They creep forward, their breath loud in their ears, kicked pebbles echoing off the walls.

“I don’t hear anything,” Jade hisses.

“It’s…not that,” she explains. “There’s something magical ahead.”

“Magical?” For a moment, Dante forgets the beautiful nymph.

“Psionic magic,” she confirms.

The passage opens into a large chamber in which four-foot figures made of copper stand lined on either side of a dragon-sized chessboard. Dead ahead is a life-sized sculpture of a dragon head in copper. A large brass bell hangs to one side of the cave.

“It’s coming from the head,” Serai notes. “I’m not familiar with this magic, though.”

“It could be a trap,” Dante warns.

“There’s no clapper in this bell,” George notes. Dante turns with alarm to find George with his head inside the bell.

“Don’t touch anything!” Dante hisses.

“Are you sure?” Serai looks at the sculpture with disappointment and longing.

“Positive,” Dante replies firmly. “We have to be more careful.”

“I agree,” Jade says, his face grim. “We have no idea what has taken up residence here. Let’s move on.”

The chamber opens into a long hall lined with stone statues of human soldiers. The light from George’s lantern causes shadows to move across their faces, giving them a sinister aspect. Dante examines them in passing, wondering to himself about their age and the artist. They were created with some skill, he notes, with intricate detail on their weapons and armor. Tiny spiders crawl across their faces.

This hall opens into the largest chamber yet. Its ceilings, fifty feet or more above, are reinforced with arches. Light from the far end of the chamber reflects off of the mosaic tiles on the walls, which form images of a majestic, blue-scaled dragon on beds of copper and gold coins. Ahead is a workbench, twelve feet tall, with giant tools scattered across its surface as well as srystals and geodes, some radiant with psionic energy. A small building, ten feet tall and shaped like a house with a handle on its roof, stands to one side of the cave.
Serai stares for a long moment at the house. “It reminds me of a dollhouse,” she says and shudders with revulsion.

“I hear voices ahead,” Ishii whispers. He point to the light at the far end of the cavern. “From there.”

The students freeze and exchange looks. With deep breaths, they sneak as quietly as they can towards the light. They notice a crude ramp that leads to the light, but there seems to be no door or obvious light source. Ishii cautiously creeps up the ramp, concentrating on the soft light. He stares at it for a long moment, his eyes losing focus as he reaches out to the wall…

…and steps through it.

“It’s an illusion,” Dante says, grinning with appreciation. “A good one, but an illusion nonetheless.”