Dr Midnight
Explorer
Dartan said:
Since when did generic dwarf #56,738,295 join the party??
-
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The Unusual Heroes vs. The Pool of Radiance
- Thread starter Xaltar
- Start date
Since when did generic dwarf #56,738,295 join the party??
Dr Midnight
Explorer
The (recent) history of Dr. Midnight
The group of highwaymen sat around on the stone wall in the bright sun. They whittled at twigs and did their best to ignore their grumbling bellies. Derret looked to the scout in the trees above and signaled. The scout shook his head. Derret cursed and went back to whittling. He was making a very nice pointy stick.
“What are we even doing here?” Thirghram asked. “There’s been no one worth robbing in two weeks. Nobody travels this road anymore! We should pack up and head elsewhere.”
“Where, Thirgh?” Derret snapped. “Where would you like to go? What road in the Dales will you suggest that isn’t widely patrolled or claimed by another guild?” Thirghram looked away. “That’s what I thought. Things will pick up, people. We just need to stay here and wait for the big score. It’s coming!”
At that moment, the sky opened above them. A tear in the fabric of space ripped wide. The thieves all looked up at it in surprise. From it could be heard the faint yet growing sound of a man yelling. The yell got louder, and a man dressed in black fell from the hole. The hole closed up, and the man yelled all the way to the ground, where he landed with a jarring thud. He rocketed to his feet, dusting off his fine and foppish garb.
The man wore black leather gloves, a very dashing black shirt, tight black pants, black riding boots, a black cape, a black mask, and a black cavalier hat with a bright red feather tucked into the brim. A glinting silver-hilted rapier was at his belt. A tiny, well-groomed mustache lay over his upper lip. “Ahh,” he grinned. “That was most painful.”
The thieves cautiously stood and drew their daggers and crossbows. Derret licked his lips and looked the intruder over. He looked wealthy. In fact, he looked damned wealthy- like a successful adventurer. Derret slowly unsheathed his shortsword. “May I ask your name, sir?” he asked.
“Well, that’s that for THIS wand of wonder,” the man in black said, absent-mindedly tossing the ornate wand over his shoulder. Derret gaped. A wand of wonder! Even one with no charges left could fetch a respectable price if the right enchantments could be made and the right sucker could be found. This man must be loaded!
“What is your name?” Derret asked.
“Have you seen Roundie?” the man in black asked Derret, looking around himself. “Little guy, fights crime?”
“Hand over all your gold and valuables, and TELL ME your NAME!” Derret yelled, grinning. He and his companions closed in, surrounding the man with swords and daggers pointed towards him. The man looked at Derret and his eyes narrowed.
With a flourish, the man drew his rapier and turned on his heel, spinning clockwise, holding his cape out with one hand. The rapier pointed downward, and as it spun, struck every blade around the man, forcing them all off-target. TING-TING-TANG-TING-TUNG-TING!!! The man then went into a dazzling display of swordplay and footwork, stabbing, slipping, cutting, and stepping. Men all around him fell. He cartwheeled out of the way of three thieves’ strikes, then killed them all through with one well-placed thrust, through their necks. “Hah HAHH!!” he yelled. Crossbow bolts flew, and the man backflipped and rolled to his feet, then knocked five bolts out of the air using his rapier in lightning succession. He spun and ran around the area, vaulting off trees and stumps, disarming and killing the crossbowmen with no real problem.
Only Derret was left. He ran forward with his shortsword, hacking and cutting. The man in black blocked every blow with practiced ease, grinning a winsome smile. “Who are you?!” Derret yelled furiously as he swung. He was losing badly, and he knew it. He had only one option against this skilled swordsman. “Wait, wait!” he said. He threw his shortsword at the man’s feet and held his hands up. The man looked disappointed. Derret said “I don’t think you’d kill an unarmed man, would you? Now, why don’t we discuss this? You’re obviously a very skilled fighter. You and me, we should team up! We could take the local nobles for all they’re worth! We could- huh?”
Derret stopped as the man slipped the toe of his boot under the shortsword and kicked it upward. Derret caught the sword without thinking, and gasped as the man stabbed him through the chest. “You want to know who I am, you slime?” the man hissed. “I’m Dr. Midnight.”
Derret slid off the rapier to the ground, dead.
Dr. Midnight wiped his blade, looked around, and shoved the rapier into its scabbard. He breathed deeply and took Faerun in for the first time. It was a nice place.
“For Justice!” he said happily as he walked up the road.
The group of highwaymen sat around on the stone wall in the bright sun. They whittled at twigs and did their best to ignore their grumbling bellies. Derret looked to the scout in the trees above and signaled. The scout shook his head. Derret cursed and went back to whittling. He was making a very nice pointy stick.
“What are we even doing here?” Thirghram asked. “There’s been no one worth robbing in two weeks. Nobody travels this road anymore! We should pack up and head elsewhere.”
“Where, Thirgh?” Derret snapped. “Where would you like to go? What road in the Dales will you suggest that isn’t widely patrolled or claimed by another guild?” Thirghram looked away. “That’s what I thought. Things will pick up, people. We just need to stay here and wait for the big score. It’s coming!”
At that moment, the sky opened above them. A tear in the fabric of space ripped wide. The thieves all looked up at it in surprise. From it could be heard the faint yet growing sound of a man yelling. The yell got louder, and a man dressed in black fell from the hole. The hole closed up, and the man yelled all the way to the ground, where he landed with a jarring thud. He rocketed to his feet, dusting off his fine and foppish garb.
The man wore black leather gloves, a very dashing black shirt, tight black pants, black riding boots, a black cape, a black mask, and a black cavalier hat with a bright red feather tucked into the brim. A glinting silver-hilted rapier was at his belt. A tiny, well-groomed mustache lay over his upper lip. “Ahh,” he grinned. “That was most painful.”
The thieves cautiously stood and drew their daggers and crossbows. Derret licked his lips and looked the intruder over. He looked wealthy. In fact, he looked damned wealthy- like a successful adventurer. Derret slowly unsheathed his shortsword. “May I ask your name, sir?” he asked.
“Well, that’s that for THIS wand of wonder,” the man in black said, absent-mindedly tossing the ornate wand over his shoulder. Derret gaped. A wand of wonder! Even one with no charges left could fetch a respectable price if the right enchantments could be made and the right sucker could be found. This man must be loaded!
“What is your name?” Derret asked.
“Have you seen Roundie?” the man in black asked Derret, looking around himself. “Little guy, fights crime?”
“Hand over all your gold and valuables, and TELL ME your NAME!” Derret yelled, grinning. He and his companions closed in, surrounding the man with swords and daggers pointed towards him. The man looked at Derret and his eyes narrowed.
With a flourish, the man drew his rapier and turned on his heel, spinning clockwise, holding his cape out with one hand. The rapier pointed downward, and as it spun, struck every blade around the man, forcing them all off-target. TING-TING-TANG-TING-TUNG-TING!!! The man then went into a dazzling display of swordplay and footwork, stabbing, slipping, cutting, and stepping. Men all around him fell. He cartwheeled out of the way of three thieves’ strikes, then killed them all through with one well-placed thrust, through their necks. “Hah HAHH!!” he yelled. Crossbow bolts flew, and the man backflipped and rolled to his feet, then knocked five bolts out of the air using his rapier in lightning succession. He spun and ran around the area, vaulting off trees and stumps, disarming and killing the crossbowmen with no real problem.
Only Derret was left. He ran forward with his shortsword, hacking and cutting. The man in black blocked every blow with practiced ease, grinning a winsome smile. “Who are you?!” Derret yelled furiously as he swung. He was losing badly, and he knew it. He had only one option against this skilled swordsman. “Wait, wait!” he said. He threw his shortsword at the man’s feet and held his hands up. The man looked disappointed. Derret said “I don’t think you’d kill an unarmed man, would you? Now, why don’t we discuss this? You’re obviously a very skilled fighter. You and me, we should team up! We could take the local nobles for all they’re worth! We could- huh?”
Derret stopped as the man slipped the toe of his boot under the shortsword and kicked it upward. Derret caught the sword without thinking, and gasped as the man stabbed him through the chest. “You want to know who I am, you slime?” the man hissed. “I’m Dr. Midnight.”
Derret slid off the rapier to the ground, dead.
Dr. Midnight wiped his blade, looked around, and shoved the rapier into its scabbard. He breathed deeply and took Faerun in for the first time. It was a nice place.
“For Justice!” he said happily as he walked up the road.
Last edited:
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Session 8, Part 2: Grave Robbing...
-------------------------------------------
Very early the following morning, Borghin and the two gnomes departed on a scouting mission. It was up to them to identify the crypts that appeared to be the most lucrative, and to spy on the remaining cultist forces within the Polyandrium. They were not planning on seeing the others for several days, and they exchanged somber goodbyes since this could very well be the last time that the saw each other.
Approximately two hours later, the rest of the party readied themselves. The group now consisted of: Holden, the aloof and mysterious ranger, Hunter VonLeer, a powerful warrior of few words who is haunted daily by his cursed longsword that could only be relinquished when given as a family heirloom, Ziona, the soft and caring half-drow cleric of Eilistraee, Rossal, Ziona’s pseudodragon companion with a big sweet tooth, Tansooth, the young vigilante currently assuming the role of the master of the Spiderfang order, Lia, the new Spiderfang apprentice, Drexel, the tiefling wizard who’s innate SpellFire abilities attributed to his bloodline which could be traced back to Bane himself, Runtel, mighty barbarian and king of a dwindling Earth Genasi tribe, and finally Dr. Midnight, masked hero and skilled fighter from a far off land. Together they were determined to spoil the Cult of the Dragon’s plans, and to find their way home from the demon infested city of Myth Drannor.
The first of the crypts that the party was to investigate was a small tomb with a finely carved rune of an intricate harp on the door. A single sentry asked the party to state their business. “We have been sent from the city to exhume this crypt,” Stated Drexel, but it didn’t come out as smoothly as his other bluffs.
Holden was quick to notice the guard’s facial expressions as his eyes squinted and his head cocked in disbelief. The sentry took a step back but before his right hand reached the hilt of his sword, Holden drew his greatsword and plunged it to the hilt into the man’s chest. Looking down on his slain foe, Holden saw that the man was heavily tattooed with images of undead monsters. “I hope you like being a skeleton because I’m sure your scumbag friends will turn you into one!”
Nearby Drexel located a small box that contained a rune-talisman with the image of a harp, and a scroll containing the word, “sellatiell.” Drexel held the stone to the rune on the door and commanded, “sellatiell” at the door. When the door opened, there was a faint sound of joyful music emanating from within. The thick walls were painted with a swirling design of musical notes. Inside they found some finely crafted musical instruments, a book of elven songs, and instructions for crafting pipes of sounding. Ziona claimed an exquisitely crafted lute since her goddess appreciates musical performances.
The next crypt was that of a wealthy elven noblewoman, but appeared to have already been looted by the cultists. However, the cultists had left behind the rune to open the door. This particular rune had a cat on it and the scroll accompanying the talisman contained the word, “haladrin.”
The heroes were somewhat disappointed with their findings at this point until they reached the next and much larger crypt. The door to this tomb was sealed with the rune of the wolf and had a warning chalked across it in Common: “Dangerous! Wait until Shamoor is available!”
Hunter rubbed his hands together excitedly, “Eeeh, this should be fun!”
The party entered the tomb and descended a flight of stairs. After the staircase ended, the tunnel opened into a long rectangular chamber. Six bronze statues of elven warriors stood at attention, three along each of the sidewalls and a continual flame burned above each. Two places on the floor had substantially size scorch marks. Ziona stepped forward and spoke, “Wait! Before any of you risk your well being, let me summon a creature to tread across the length of this hallway.”
A celestial badger was summoned, and by Ziona’s command, it walked the length of the hall. After no adverse events occurred, Drexel suggested that the badger touch one of the statues. Suddenly there was a large lightning blast that shot from one of the statues and obliterated the creature. As they all gagged on the smell of burning fur, Spiderfang spoke wryly, “I believe this goes against my resolution to NOT DIE!”
-------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
-------------------------------------------
Session 8, Part 2: Grave Robbing...
-------------------------------------------
Very early the following morning, Borghin and the two gnomes departed on a scouting mission. It was up to them to identify the crypts that appeared to be the most lucrative, and to spy on the remaining cultist forces within the Polyandrium. They were not planning on seeing the others for several days, and they exchanged somber goodbyes since this could very well be the last time that the saw each other.
Approximately two hours later, the rest of the party readied themselves. The group now consisted of: Holden, the aloof and mysterious ranger, Hunter VonLeer, a powerful warrior of few words who is haunted daily by his cursed longsword that could only be relinquished when given as a family heirloom, Ziona, the soft and caring half-drow cleric of Eilistraee, Rossal, Ziona’s pseudodragon companion with a big sweet tooth, Tansooth, the young vigilante currently assuming the role of the master of the Spiderfang order, Lia, the new Spiderfang apprentice, Drexel, the tiefling wizard who’s innate SpellFire abilities attributed to his bloodline which could be traced back to Bane himself, Runtel, mighty barbarian and king of a dwindling Earth Genasi tribe, and finally Dr. Midnight, masked hero and skilled fighter from a far off land. Together they were determined to spoil the Cult of the Dragon’s plans, and to find their way home from the demon infested city of Myth Drannor.
The first of the crypts that the party was to investigate was a small tomb with a finely carved rune of an intricate harp on the door. A single sentry asked the party to state their business. “We have been sent from the city to exhume this crypt,” Stated Drexel, but it didn’t come out as smoothly as his other bluffs.
Holden was quick to notice the guard’s facial expressions as his eyes squinted and his head cocked in disbelief. The sentry took a step back but before his right hand reached the hilt of his sword, Holden drew his greatsword and plunged it to the hilt into the man’s chest. Looking down on his slain foe, Holden saw that the man was heavily tattooed with images of undead monsters. “I hope you like being a skeleton because I’m sure your scumbag friends will turn you into one!”
Nearby Drexel located a small box that contained a rune-talisman with the image of a harp, and a scroll containing the word, “sellatiell.” Drexel held the stone to the rune on the door and commanded, “sellatiell” at the door. When the door opened, there was a faint sound of joyful music emanating from within. The thick walls were painted with a swirling design of musical notes. Inside they found some finely crafted musical instruments, a book of elven songs, and instructions for crafting pipes of sounding. Ziona claimed an exquisitely crafted lute since her goddess appreciates musical performances.
The next crypt was that of a wealthy elven noblewoman, but appeared to have already been looted by the cultists. However, the cultists had left behind the rune to open the door. This particular rune had a cat on it and the scroll accompanying the talisman contained the word, “haladrin.”
The heroes were somewhat disappointed with their findings at this point until they reached the next and much larger crypt. The door to this tomb was sealed with the rune of the wolf and had a warning chalked across it in Common: “Dangerous! Wait until Shamoor is available!”
Hunter rubbed his hands together excitedly, “Eeeh, this should be fun!”
The party entered the tomb and descended a flight of stairs. After the staircase ended, the tunnel opened into a long rectangular chamber. Six bronze statues of elven warriors stood at attention, three along each of the sidewalls and a continual flame burned above each. Two places on the floor had substantially size scorch marks. Ziona stepped forward and spoke, “Wait! Before any of you risk your well being, let me summon a creature to tread across the length of this hallway.”
A celestial badger was summoned, and by Ziona’s command, it walked the length of the hall. After no adverse events occurred, Drexel suggested that the badger touch one of the statues. Suddenly there was a large lightning blast that shot from one of the statues and obliterated the creature. As they all gagged on the smell of burning fur, Spiderfang spoke wryly, “I believe this goes against my resolution to NOT DIE!”
-------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
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Broccli_Head
Explorer
Are those mass combats that easy? I've lost track, who exactly is in the party now?
Well, the battle with Ryngoth was a little tough, and there were a couple of dangerous battles in the tower, but for the most part, the party came, saw, and conquered.
I'm trying to rush through the less interesting parts without leaving them out. The party is leading up to some really interesting encounters that snowball until the finish of the module which happened last weekend.
At the latest point in the story, Hunter's player returned to the game and we were joined by a new player, who came in as Runtel, one of Hunter's friends from the keep.
In addition, Dr. Midnight came with Hunter as well. Doc the player decided to play Dr. Midnight over Borghin who is falling to the side as an NPC.
This also marked sixth level for several characters. Spiderfang and Ziona both took the leadership feat.
Spiderfang is looking to restore the order of the Spiderfang, starting with his apprentice Lia.
Ziona took leadership since if Rossal is going to stay with the group, he really needs to advance to stay alive, and the two have really grown to like each other (a daily helping of honey coated cookies never hurt either!)
Rossal is a CR 1 creature, but really has two psuedodragon hit dice, and is now progressing as a rogue, enabling him to act as a scout for the party. There is a really interesting encounter where Rossal gets to shine as well.
Coming soon the story will see some amazing use of Spell Fire and some downright brutal encounters. The whole party get's to shine on various occasions so hang in there...
I'm trying to post about 1 update per night until I get caught up.
- Xaltar
I'm trying to rush through the less interesting parts without leaving them out. The party is leading up to some really interesting encounters that snowball until the finish of the module which happened last weekend.
At the latest point in the story, Hunter's player returned to the game and we were joined by a new player, who came in as Runtel, one of Hunter's friends from the keep.
In addition, Dr. Midnight came with Hunter as well. Doc the player decided to play Dr. Midnight over Borghin who is falling to the side as an NPC.
This also marked sixth level for several characters. Spiderfang and Ziona both took the leadership feat.
Spiderfang is looking to restore the order of the Spiderfang, starting with his apprentice Lia.
Ziona took leadership since if Rossal is going to stay with the group, he really needs to advance to stay alive, and the two have really grown to like each other (a daily helping of honey coated cookies never hurt either!)
Rossal is a CR 1 creature, but really has two psuedodragon hit dice, and is now progressing as a rogue, enabling him to act as a scout for the party. There is a really interesting encounter where Rossal gets to shine as well.
Coming soon the story will see some amazing use of Spell Fire and some downright brutal encounters. The whole party get's to shine on various occasions so hang in there...
I'm trying to post about 1 update per night until I get caught up.
- Xaltar
The party at this point is:
Hunter VonLeer - Human Fighter with a cursed magical sword (A VonLeer Heirloom)
Drexel Doomhammer - Tiefling Wizard with SpellFire
Ziona the Half-Drow - Cleric of Eilistraee
Runtel - Earth Genasi Barbarian
Holden - Human Ranger/Rogue
Doctor Midnight - Human Swashbuckling Fighter
Spiderfang aka Tansooth - Human Monk, last ordained member of the Spiderfang order (A vigilante like group)
Cohorts:
Lia - Human Monk, Spiderfang apprentice
Rossal - Psuedodragon Rogue
Hunter VonLeer - Human Fighter with a cursed magical sword (A VonLeer Heirloom)
Drexel Doomhammer - Tiefling Wizard with SpellFire
Ziona the Half-Drow - Cleric of Eilistraee
Runtel - Earth Genasi Barbarian
Holden - Human Ranger/Rogue
Doctor Midnight - Human Swashbuckling Fighter
Spiderfang aka Tansooth - Human Monk, last ordained member of the Spiderfang order (A vigilante like group)
Cohorts:
Lia - Human Monk, Spiderfang apprentice
Rossal - Psuedodragon Rogue
Wee Jas
First Post
who?
Right now or at that time?
I don't wanna spoil anything.. but not everyone is around that should be.. lol.
That particular combat was pie compared to some of the stuff thats coming up very shortly! It used a bunch of our resources but we made it through.
Holden, the aloof and mysterious ranger
Hunter VonLeer, a powerful warrior of few words who is haunted daily by his cursed longsword that could only be relinquished when given as a family heirloom
Ziona, the soft and caring half-drow cleric of Eilistraee
Rossal, Ziona’s pseudodragon companion with a big sweet tooth
Tansooth, the young vigilante currently assuming the role of the master of the Spiderfang order
Lia, the new Spiderfang apprentice
Drexel, the tiefling wizard who’s innate SpellFire abilities attributed to his bloodline which could be traced back to Bane himself (thas me right?!) lol
Runtel, mighty barbarian and king of a dwindling Earth Genasi tribe
Dr. Midnight, masked hero and skilled fighter from a far off land
2 of us are "gone" now.. but I'll hint no more!
Right now or at that time?
I don't wanna spoil anything.. but not everyone is around that should be.. lol.
That particular combat was pie compared to some of the stuff thats coming up very shortly! It used a bunch of our resources but we made it through.
Holden, the aloof and mysterious ranger
Hunter VonLeer, a powerful warrior of few words who is haunted daily by his cursed longsword that could only be relinquished when given as a family heirloom
Ziona, the soft and caring half-drow cleric of Eilistraee
Rossal, Ziona’s pseudodragon companion with a big sweet tooth
Tansooth, the young vigilante currently assuming the role of the master of the Spiderfang order
Lia, the new Spiderfang apprentice
Drexel, the tiefling wizard who’s innate SpellFire abilities attributed to his bloodline which could be traced back to Bane himself (thas me right?!) lol
Runtel, mighty barbarian and king of a dwindling Earth Genasi tribe
Dr. Midnight, masked hero and skilled fighter from a far off land
2 of us are "gone" now.. but I'll hint no more!
-------------------------------------------
Session 8, Part 3: Awakened...
-------------------------------------------
Growing tired of the useless banter, Runtel drew his sword and trudged down the steps across the hall to the far door. “It’s safe already!” Runtel called back to the party impatiently.
Drexel and Ziona turned to look at Hunter who had brought Runtel into the party. Hunter, with a sideways smile responded, “What? It’s not like everyone else in the party doesn’t have their quirks.”
Holden sighed after hearing the conversation and moved up to explore the far door before Runtel found a trap. Meanwhile, Spiderfang checked out the door to the west that did not appear to be fully closed. As he moved it open, he noticed that the passageway had collapsed some time long ago and there was nothing to be found there without months of excavation.
After Holden assured the party that the door was not trapped, the rest of the party moved up, making sure to avoid the statues. Holden opened the door confidently and took a step forward into a small hallway. The hall was covered from floor to ceiling with finely crafted tapestries of various scenes or portrait angles, all containing a stern blonde elven warrior wearing armor that resembled a wolf’s face. However, a look of disgust formed on Holden’s face as he step on a pressure plate. *CLICK* An arrow shot him in the shoulder, but the damage to his body was minor compared to his damaged pride. He turned and pushed the party back into the hallway, while he stabbed the pressure plate repeatedly as several more arrows stuck harmlessly into the wall. “That should do it,” he said with a great matter-of-factness, and moved to search the next door. “Figures, why else would you put such a small hallway in a crypt unless you were going to trap it?”
As the party moved forward through the next untrapped door, the hallway opened up into a wide room containing a coffin that was carved with many depictions of wolves hunting, running, and playing. The party believed that they were bound to find some good treasure here, and figured that the lid to the coffin was undoubtedly trapped. Holden informed the party that it was indeed trapped, but it didn’t look as if there was anything that they could do to deactivate it. Hunter stepped up to the lid and said, “Everyone out of the room, this is a job for a VonLeer.”
More then happy to oblige, the party filed out of the room and let Hunter go to work. His muscles flexed as he lifted the stone lid from the coffin. As the seal was broken, he found himself being sprayed with a green gas. He dropped the lid on the ground, (cracking it into several pieces), and charged out of the room. After the coughing subsided, he told the party that he had been poisoned, but luckily Ziona’s healing prowess avoided the condition from worsening.
After the gas had cleared, the party returned to inspect the crypt. The entire group was appalled after Ziona infomed them that there was no magic to be found on the elven body. They search for nearly thirty minutes, but failed to find anything of reasonable value.
“Something’s not right,” Spiderfang concluded. “Why would someone go through this much effort to protect a tomb that has nothing in it?”
He charged back into the next room, and they all began searching the walls between the guardian statues. They searched for hours, but the persistent monk wasn’t satisfied until every area of the hallway had been searched in great detail. Finally, on the last segment of wall to be explored, Holden said, “I finally found it.”
Their spirits rose knowing that they hadn’t wasted the bulk of the day searching this tomb in vain. The wall opened inward, and was not trapped. Holden didn’t seem surprised since the door was already so well masked. As they stepped inside, the room had an odd musky odor that seemed to be coming from six large vats of a thick dark brown liquid. In the center of the room was an open sarcophagus, even more detailed then the last, containing a corpse that appeared to be well preserved and was covered by a gossamer sheet. On the side of the stone slab was elven script reading: “Honored Kesefehon, great warrior, exemplar of his race, we shall never forget him.”
Under the sheet, the man’s details were vague, but they could tell that he was wearing breastplate armor and held a longsword to his chest. Holden pulled the sheet off, revealing a body that appeared to be covered in open sores and wounds. Surrounding the coffin, the party waited in anticipation for the body to stir, surely no good could come of this!
Several long minutes past without any signs of movement, so Holden gritted his teeth and grabbed the sword from the corpse’s hand, and the dead elf’s eyes opened, burning with the fire of undeath.
-------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
-------------------------------------------
Session 8, Part 3: Awakened...
-------------------------------------------
Growing tired of the useless banter, Runtel drew his sword and trudged down the steps across the hall to the far door. “It’s safe already!” Runtel called back to the party impatiently.
Drexel and Ziona turned to look at Hunter who had brought Runtel into the party. Hunter, with a sideways smile responded, “What? It’s not like everyone else in the party doesn’t have their quirks.”
Holden sighed after hearing the conversation and moved up to explore the far door before Runtel found a trap. Meanwhile, Spiderfang checked out the door to the west that did not appear to be fully closed. As he moved it open, he noticed that the passageway had collapsed some time long ago and there was nothing to be found there without months of excavation.
After Holden assured the party that the door was not trapped, the rest of the party moved up, making sure to avoid the statues. Holden opened the door confidently and took a step forward into a small hallway. The hall was covered from floor to ceiling with finely crafted tapestries of various scenes or portrait angles, all containing a stern blonde elven warrior wearing armor that resembled a wolf’s face. However, a look of disgust formed on Holden’s face as he step on a pressure plate. *CLICK* An arrow shot him in the shoulder, but the damage to his body was minor compared to his damaged pride. He turned and pushed the party back into the hallway, while he stabbed the pressure plate repeatedly as several more arrows stuck harmlessly into the wall. “That should do it,” he said with a great matter-of-factness, and moved to search the next door. “Figures, why else would you put such a small hallway in a crypt unless you were going to trap it?”
As the party moved forward through the next untrapped door, the hallway opened up into a wide room containing a coffin that was carved with many depictions of wolves hunting, running, and playing. The party believed that they were bound to find some good treasure here, and figured that the lid to the coffin was undoubtedly trapped. Holden informed the party that it was indeed trapped, but it didn’t look as if there was anything that they could do to deactivate it. Hunter stepped up to the lid and said, “Everyone out of the room, this is a job for a VonLeer.”
More then happy to oblige, the party filed out of the room and let Hunter go to work. His muscles flexed as he lifted the stone lid from the coffin. As the seal was broken, he found himself being sprayed with a green gas. He dropped the lid on the ground, (cracking it into several pieces), and charged out of the room. After the coughing subsided, he told the party that he had been poisoned, but luckily Ziona’s healing prowess avoided the condition from worsening.
After the gas had cleared, the party returned to inspect the crypt. The entire group was appalled after Ziona infomed them that there was no magic to be found on the elven body. They search for nearly thirty minutes, but failed to find anything of reasonable value.
“Something’s not right,” Spiderfang concluded. “Why would someone go through this much effort to protect a tomb that has nothing in it?”
He charged back into the next room, and they all began searching the walls between the guardian statues. They searched for hours, but the persistent monk wasn’t satisfied until every area of the hallway had been searched in great detail. Finally, on the last segment of wall to be explored, Holden said, “I finally found it.”
Their spirits rose knowing that they hadn’t wasted the bulk of the day searching this tomb in vain. The wall opened inward, and was not trapped. Holden didn’t seem surprised since the door was already so well masked. As they stepped inside, the room had an odd musky odor that seemed to be coming from six large vats of a thick dark brown liquid. In the center of the room was an open sarcophagus, even more detailed then the last, containing a corpse that appeared to be well preserved and was covered by a gossamer sheet. On the side of the stone slab was elven script reading: “Honored Kesefehon, great warrior, exemplar of his race, we shall never forget him.”
Under the sheet, the man’s details were vague, but they could tell that he was wearing breastplate armor and held a longsword to his chest. Holden pulled the sheet off, revealing a body that appeared to be covered in open sores and wounds. Surrounding the coffin, the party waited in anticipation for the body to stir, surely no good could come of this!
Several long minutes past without any signs of movement, so Holden gritted his teeth and grabbed the sword from the corpse’s hand, and the dead elf’s eyes opened, burning with the fire of undeath.
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Still more to come…
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