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Story Hour
The Westgate Campaign Chronicles - serial
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<blockquote data-quote="Carlo-One" data-source="post: 8958713" data-attributes="member: 7015827"><p>Meanwhile, the dwarven priest Njord, huffing and puffing, had arrived late at the Old Beard. After briefly looking around the tavern’s interior, he exited and surveyed his surroundings. Looking at the nearby sewer entrance, he spied a dwarven rune daubed next to it in some kind of paint. It read: “This way, drunkard.” Correctly deducing that this was a message from Darrow meant for him, Njord entered the sewers, then spotted another rune marking the way down an eastern corridor.</p><p></p><p>Guided by Darrow’s rune-marked path, Njord hurried, muttering silently to himself. He soon came upon the others in a larger chamber, shortly after hearing a frenzied war cry from Rosten echoing in the dank corridors. He greeted his companions, observing a giant green hand holding Darrow in place and several rotting corpses strewn around the floor. Aerikoth explained that their foes had been reanimated Shore Patrol members, some of whom the party had previously encountered. Lloria finished examining the bodies and thrust one blade into her belt for safekeeping.</p><p></p><p>Dermot, after inspecting the secret sewer exit marked on their maps, asked if anyone was good with door-rigged triggers. Aerikoth mentioned that Rosten should have some tools left, while Darrow suggested they simply stand back and let him open it. Rosten stowed his crossbow and stepped up, a little gingerly. He began humming a tune to himself, mournful and low, while working. In a short time, the piratical hin stepped back proudly and stopped humming, nodding to himself. He declared that would do it and that he didn’t even need the Vulture’s toy for it.</p><p></p><p>The company passed single file through the secret door, finding themselves in a dark, vaulted crypt and in an immediate fight with more rotting undead. Aerikoth summoned a dire tiger to assist in the melee and their foes stood little chance. The group examined the area but decided not to disturb anything, given the need for haste to disrupt the Sharran ritual taking place somewhere ahead of them. Having passed an unexamined side corridor, however, Darrow prudently jammed a door behind them with a couple of wedged crossbow bolts. Dermot pointed out a portcullis-guarded bridge ahead of them that the ranger thought said “dangerous stuff this way” and was their best bet to follow as a path. Njord thought they should check the other tunnels first, but then Dermot, listening intently, heard the faint sound of chanting ahead.</p><p></p><p>On the bridge, Rosten started humming his same working tune as he attempted to get past the portcullis. Before he could get to work, the party was ambushed by fantastic-looking bonebats that swept down from above; however, the creatures were quickly dispatched. The party in the meantime had lost the sound of the chanting during the loud combat, as the acoustics of the crypt area appeared to be playing some tricks on them.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Carlo-One, post: 8958713, member: 7015827"] Meanwhile, the dwarven priest Njord, huffing and puffing, had arrived late at the Old Beard. After briefly looking around the tavern’s interior, he exited and surveyed his surroundings. Looking at the nearby sewer entrance, he spied a dwarven rune daubed next to it in some kind of paint. It read: “This way, drunkard.” Correctly deducing that this was a message from Darrow meant for him, Njord entered the sewers, then spotted another rune marking the way down an eastern corridor. Guided by Darrow’s rune-marked path, Njord hurried, muttering silently to himself. He soon came upon the others in a larger chamber, shortly after hearing a frenzied war cry from Rosten echoing in the dank corridors. He greeted his companions, observing a giant green hand holding Darrow in place and several rotting corpses strewn around the floor. Aerikoth explained that their foes had been reanimated Shore Patrol members, some of whom the party had previously encountered. Lloria finished examining the bodies and thrust one blade into her belt for safekeeping. Dermot, after inspecting the secret sewer exit marked on their maps, asked if anyone was good with door-rigged triggers. Aerikoth mentioned that Rosten should have some tools left, while Darrow suggested they simply stand back and let him open it. Rosten stowed his crossbow and stepped up, a little gingerly. He began humming a tune to himself, mournful and low, while working. In a short time, the piratical hin stepped back proudly and stopped humming, nodding to himself. He declared that would do it and that he didn’t even need the Vulture’s toy for it. The company passed single file through the secret door, finding themselves in a dark, vaulted crypt and in an immediate fight with more rotting undead. Aerikoth summoned a dire tiger to assist in the melee and their foes stood little chance. The group examined the area but decided not to disturb anything, given the need for haste to disrupt the Sharran ritual taking place somewhere ahead of them. Having passed an unexamined side corridor, however, Darrow prudently jammed a door behind them with a couple of wedged crossbow bolts. Dermot pointed out a portcullis-guarded bridge ahead of them that the ranger thought said “dangerous stuff this way” and was their best bet to follow as a path. Njord thought they should check the other tunnels first, but then Dermot, listening intently, heard the faint sound of chanting ahead. On the bridge, Rosten started humming his same working tune as he attempted to get past the portcullis. Before he could get to work, the party was ambushed by fantastic-looking bonebats that swept down from above; however, the creatures were quickly dispatched. The party in the meantime had lost the sound of the chanting during the loud combat, as the acoustics of the crypt area appeared to be playing some tricks on them. [/QUOTE]
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