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<blockquote data-quote="Richards" data-source="post: 6054619" data-attributes="member: 508"><p><strong>ADVENTURE 32 - MY GREATEST TREASURE</strong></p><p></p><p>PC Roster: </p><p style="margin-left: 20px">Feron Dru, half-elf druid</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Rale Bodkin, human rogue</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Slayer, half-orc barbarian</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Telgrane, human conjurer</p><p></p><p>I wrote "My Greatest Treasure" for one reason only: Rale had recently been slain by a fiendish kraken and had lost all of his gear, including <em>Liverwurst</em>, his magical short sword. I wanted a reason to plant a "replacement sword" in the campaign, and decided that a trap-filled tomb specifically built to house such a sword was the way to go. (A trap-filled adventure practically guaranteed Rale's involvement, as he was the only rogue in the group.)</p><p></p><p>Here's the starting status I gave the group:</p><p></p><p>The PCs are called before one of the Guild administrators, who describes an upcoming delve. These are the facts as they know them:</p><ul> <li data-xf-list-type="ul"><strong>Dascombe Quickblade</strong> was a seasoned veteran of many battles who lived and died several hundred years ago. He carved himself out a kingdom among a group of warring fiefdoms and lived to be well into his sixties.</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">He was known for his enchanted blade, which he named <em><strong>Belladonna</strong></em> after his only daughter. The short sword was of exquisite manufacture; some say it was created by a trio of the finest elven artisans of the day. The specifics of the sword’s powers differ according to the legends, but they all agree that its enchantment was very powerful, and that Dascombe was never seen without it.</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">Dascombe died quietly in bed, within a year of seeing his daughter precede him in death. Some say that his heart was broken when she died; others claim that he was poisoned by a greedy advisor who wanted the kingdom for himself.</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">After his death, Dascombe’s known possessions were all accounted for, save for his enchanted sword, which has never been recovered.</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">Recently, much of his former estate, including his extensive library, was sold at a public auction by his descendents, who have since fallen on hard times. The Adventurers Guild purchased a significant chunk of his papers and journals.</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">A Guild scribe recently discovered that a gem Dascombe often wore on a pendant around his neck was magical in nature, allowing anyone who viewed through it to see invisible markings hidden in the margins in some of his journals. These invisible markings detailed a secret treasure hold hidden in the mountains where Dascombe’s greatest treasure is kept. It is believed that this “greatest treasure” is none other than his enchanted short sword, <em>Belladonna</em>.</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">Last night, the Guild scribe was examining the journals through the magical gem when he was struck from behind and rendered unconscious. When he awoke, both the journal and the gem were gone. Fortunately, the thief was apparently unaware that the scribe had already transcribed the invisible markings into a ledger of his own, so the Guild still has a copy of Dascombe’s description of his hidden treasure hold.</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">The Guild had been planning on gathering a party of adventurers together to find the hidden hold and recover <em>Belladonna</em>, but now time is of the essence, since apparently there’s someone else after the sword as well.</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">The PCs will be accompanied on their journey into the mountains by the Guild scribe, <strong>Ezekiel Featherquill</strong>. They have the rest of the day to gather together their provisions and equipment.</li> </ul><p></p><p>- - -</p><p></p><p>"Well, that's just typical," groused Rale. "Why doesn't this Guild have a better sense of security? We've got folks traipsing in here getting our own stolen Guild rings recharged, we've got assassins waltzing in here as bold as you please, and now we've got thieves stealing Guild property from right under the noses of Guild scribes. Please tell me this Featherquill fellow wasn't here in Guild Headquarters when the stuff got nabbed?"</p><p></p><p>"No, I believe he was in his own private residence," remarked Telgrane, who had apparently paid a bit more attention to the briefing they'd all been given.</p><p></p><p>"So Featherquill just takes whatever Guild property he wants home with him?" Rale complained, determined to have something to gripe about. "Lovely, just lovely."</p><p></p><p>"We're just lucky he had a backup copy," replied Telgrane. "Or this delve would be finished before it even started."</p><p></p><p>"I wonder who stole the original journals and gemstone?" wondered Feron aloud.</p><p></p><p>"Betcha anything it was Kazmira," Rale responded. "This sounds like her style - rip off something valuable and play us for fools at the same time."</p><p></p><p>"We'll see," Feron replied. "Maybe we'll meet up with her at the treasure hold, or with whoever it was that attacked Ezekiel. In any case, is everybody ready to go?"</p><p></p><p>"Old Clem's getting the horses packed," said Telgrane. "Let's head down to the stables."</p><p></p><p>"I'll swing by and get Fang," remarked Slayer. "Meet you there."</p><p></p><p>- - -</p><p></p><p>The first several days of travel were relatively uneventful, and the group eventually made their way safely to the foot of the mountain range described in Dascombe’s notes. A narrow trail wound through the mountains that looked promising. Slayer led his horse up the mountain path with Fang trotting along at his side, and the others followed suit, Old Clem and Ezekiel bringing up the rear with the pack horses.</p><p></p><p>Several hours up into the pass, the group was confronted by a stout figure, looking rather like a 12-foot-tall dwarf with reddish orange hair. He wore half-plate armor and wielded a greatsword longer than two men standing head to toe. “What have we here?” he thundered. “Willing slaves for my forge, or morsels for the stewpot?”</p><p></p><p>"Neither," replied Telgrane amicably, trying to keep things calm. "Just a group of travelers, looking to pass by without any trouble." While he spoke, he surreptitiously popped open the top of the metal tinder box hung at his hip, just in case. The glow from Infernia in cinder form was barely discernable, but she was able to hear that battle might soon be commencing.</p><p></p><p>"Tell you what, then," replied the fire giant. "I'm in a good mood, so I'll make you a deal. You turn over two of your number to me, and I'll let the rest of you pass unharmed."</p><p></p><p>"I'm afraid we'll have to pass on that offer," replied Telgrane. Slayer, meanwhile, was reaching for his greatsword with a frown, wondering why Telgrane was wasting all of this time <em>talking</em> when there was obviously a fierce battle to be had. And then Fang growled and turned his head up to the rock above them, where a furry, canine head could be seen peeking through the mountain scrub. A glint of metal hinted at barding covering the creature's hide.</p><p></p><p>"Ambush!" growled Slayer, whipping out his greatsword and spinning his horse to face the threat from the side. The Nessian warhound leapt down from its ledge above the others, and battle commenced. Slayer took a swipe at the massive beast on the way down and sliced through its side, eliciting a howl of pain from the thing and a retaliatory blast of fire from its wide jaws. Telgrane concentrated his initial attack on the fire giant, casting a <em>magic missile</em> barrage that was certain to strike true. As he did so, Infernia leapt out of the tinderbox in a gout of flame, assuming her horned humanoid form as she did so. She let out a hiss of disappointment once she saw she was dealing with a firebreather; such beasts were usually immune to her fiery attacks. Feron backed her horse up and cast a <em>call lightning</em> spell, causing bolts of electricity to lash down at the giant.</p><p></p><p>"We've got the dog, you handle the giant!" Rale called to Slayer, as he dropped from the saddle - there was no way he wanted to fall off of a mountain path on horseback when he could ensure he had better footing from the safety of the ground. Slayer followed suit, jumping from the saddle the better to engage the fire giant on his own. And the group's tactics worked; the Nessian warhound was dealt with relatively quickly, allowing the others to concentrate on helping Slayer and Feron deal with the giant. Before long he too had been slain.</p><p></p><p>Looting the giant and his canine pet gave Rale the opportunity for more griping; the fire giant's armor and greatsword were obviously valuable, but much too large to be put to use by the group, and too unwieldy to be brought along to be sold later. At least he had a pouch with four large rubies in it; Rale pocketed those for safekeeping, slightly consoled. And the chain mail barding from the massive hell hound was not only magical in nature but was of the same general size as Fang; despite wanting nothing to do with it initially, Slayer was eventually able to coax the dire wolf into allowing it to be placed on him and tightened to fit.</p><p></p><p>The group saddled up and moved on.</p><p></p><p>- - -</p><p></p><p>After several more hours of travel, the group reached a cave opening that Ezekiel claimed fit the description of the location of the entrance to Dascombe’s hidden treasure hold. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary about the cave, although as the group got closer they detected the heavy odor of a large, shaggy mammal.</p><p></p><p>Rale dismounted from his horse and the others backed up down the mountain trail as he peeked inside. Apparently, assuming this was indeed the cave leading to Dascombe's horde, in the years since he had his cache built here a mated pair of dire bears had taken up residence in the cave. They were currently inside the cave and fast asleep, but Rale suspected any loud noise would be sure to awaken them. He returned to the others, explained the situation, and then Feron approached the cave on her own. Peering inside, she saw the slumbering bruins amid the remains of previous meals lying scattered across the cave floor: the bones and matted fur of deer, mountain goats, and the like. She had a pair of <em>charm animal</em> spells prepared, and the sound of her casting awoke the groggy pair, who fortunately both succumbed to her spellcasting. A <em>speak with animals</em> spell allowed her to express her wish that the two dire bears not attack anyone from the group. The bears countered that they were hungry and a nice meal of horse would really hit the spot right about now. After translating the bears' request, the group talked it over and decided that a pack horse was a small price to pay for the support of a pair of loyal dire bears guarding the way into the treasure hold, especially if the thief who stole Dascombe's gemstone and journals from Ezekiel would likewise be mounting an expedition this way. Feron asked the bears if any people had been this way recently, and they responded that the last human they had seen was several months ago - and that he had been delicious. The male dire bear smacked his lips with his lengthy tongue at the memory.</p><p></p><p>One of the pack horses was unloaded, led nervously into the cave, and quickly dispatched by Slayer, who handled his greatsword diligently to ensure the creature didn't suffer. Old Clem and Ezekiel watched nervously as the two dire bears ripped into their meal, and jointly decided that despite the protection from the elements that the cave afforded, they'd make camp down the trail a bit, where the path widened enough to make a decent campsite. Fang would be left with them as additional protection, as he had developed a rapport with the elderly hireling over the months. Old Clem felt much safer with Fang at his side, especially since he had no idea how long Feron's spells would last and just how long these two monster-bears would remain friendly. The rest of the group gathered up their adventuring gear and went to the back recesses of the cave. There, they found a nearly perfectly circular pit some 10 feet in diameter. It went straight down into the rock of the mountain, seemingly much too uniform to be a natural formation. The pit's depth was soon swallowed in darkness, making it impossible to guess how deep it might be; even Slayer's darkvision was unable to penetrate to the bottom of the pit.</p><p></p><p>"I'll go down first," volunteered Feron. "I've got the <em>boots of spider climbing</em>, so I can just walk down the side of the pit and see what's down there." Rale agreed that that was a fine idea, as he gathered together everyone's lengths of rope and tied them together. Slayer took a piton from his pack and busied himself hammering it into place, not too close to the pit's edge. Feron, an <em>everburning candle</em> in hand, activated her boots and walked down the side of the vertical pit.</p><p></p><p>The first 20 feet of the pit were unremarkable, save for their uniform smoothness that hinted at other than natural origins. However, right at the 20-foot mark, the pit's interior suddenly plunged into pitch blackness. "It's a <em>darkness</em> spell!" Feron called up to the others.</p><p></p><p>"Can you dispel it?" called down Rale.</p><p></p><p>"Not at the moment," replied the half-elf, mentally going through her prepared spell inventory.</p><p></p><p>"I'll give it a try," offered Telgrane, casting a <em>dispel magic</em> at the area of darkness below. It had no effect.</p><p></p><p>"Do you want to come back up?" asked the young conjurer.</p><p></p><p>"No, I'll just continue on, slowly," called back Feron.</p><p></p><p>Walking down the vertical shaft slowly proved to be an excellent idea. At the 80-foot point, Feron's foot slid off the side of the stone as she was about to put her weight on it. She dangled precariously from her one foot for the space of time it took her to pull her other foot back and plant it safely on the side of the wall where it had been before she took her last step forward. She tentatively slid her foot forward along the wall, and found the same thing happening again - one moment, it was sticking to the wall just fine; the next, it was as if her boot wasn't even magical at all.</p><p></p><p>"<em>Antimagic field</em>," reasoned Telgrane after she had called up her findings. "Maybe you'd better come back up."</p><p></p><p>Feron found no reason to argue, and made her way back up to the top of the pit. By this time, Rale had the ropes all bound together into one length and had secured one end to the piton. "Volunteers?" he asked.</p><p></p><p>"Too bad Teabag isn't here," commented Slayer. "He likes dangling into things."</p><p></p><p>The group decision was that Rale should be the one to climb down, and the young rogue could find no counterargument that made sense, so he dropped the other end of the rope into the pit and tried to listen to how long it took the other end to hit bottom, but the rope didn't make enough noise for it to be conclusive. He repeated the experiment with a small stone with better luck and estimated that the pit was likely more than 100 feet deep. They had just shy of 150 feet of rope, so hopefully that would be enough. He asked Feron for one of her <em>everburning candles</em>, which she handed over with a puzzled look on her face. "You don't think that will be able to counter the magical darkness, do you?" she asked. "I didn't have any luck with it."</p><p></p><p>"No," Rale replied, "but it should tell me when I'm past the <em>antimagic field</em>." He tucked the candle into the side of a pocket flap, just enough for the light-producing end to poke out, and started repelling his way down.</p><p></p><p>Sure enough, at about 20 feet down the light from the candle went out, and Rale found himself in absolute darkness. He gave himself a moment to adjust, then continued down.</p><p></p><p>At what he guessed was probably the 80-foot point, the <em>antimagic field</em> should have kicked in, but he had no way to verify. He continued down.</p><p></p><p>Some forty feet lower, Rale discovered the bottom. He did so by stabbing himself in the calf with an upthrust spike along the floor of the pit. Cursing loudly as he pulled himself from the spike, he slid his foot along the spike's side until it hit a solid floor. The candle was still dark; the <em>antimagic field</em> was still in effect.</p><p></p><p>"I'm down!" Rale called up to the others. "Throw me down a torch so I can see!" Telgrane grabbed up an unlit torch and held it out to his familiar, who set it ablaze with a touch of her hand. He pitched it into the pit, and watched its light snuff out when it hit the <em>deeper darkness</em> effect. After enough time for it to have hit bottom, he called down, "What do you see?"</p><p></p><p>"It's just a circular pit, filled with spikes!" Rale called back up. "Are we sure this is the right place?"</p><p></p><p>"According to Ezekiel!"</p><p></p><p>"Fine then, come on down, one at a time!" Rale called back up. "Lightest ones first! You're last, Slayer!"</p><p></p><p>Feron grabbed the rope and climbed on down, calling up to Telgrane when she reached the bottom. "Hey, baby," cooed Rale to the druid. "Looks like it's just you and me down here."</p><p></p><p>"For now," Feron replied coldly, then looked up to see when Telgrane would appear. The dangling rope wobbled, then the light from his open tinder box appeared; Infernia had reassumed cinder form and was being carried down at her master's side. After helping the young conjurer find his footing between the spikes, Feron called up to Slayer that it was safe for him to climb down.</p><p></p><p>Rale, meanwhile, had been examining the circular wall of the pit, certain that if this was indeed Dascombe's treasure vault, there must be a hidden door somewhere. He failed to find one, but he did find a small hole about waist high. Its interior was threaded. As Slayer's great bulk lowered itself down to the pit floor, Rale realized that the hole was about the same diameter as the pit spikes. He examined the various spikes until he found what he was looking for. "Here, hold this," he commanded Slayer, thrusting the torch at him and grabbing a spike with both hands. Twisting it, the spike unscrewed from its base, and, as Rale had expected, it fit perfectly into the hole in the wall and screwed in securely.</p><p></p><p>"I fail to see the point," commented Feron, oblivious to the obvious pun. "What does this do?"</p><p></p><p>"Observe," commented Rale with a smug grin, and pushed the spike in. Or tried to, in any case - it didn't budge. "Hmm," he muttered thoughtfully, then gave the spike a tug instead. This had a better result; the spike extended a good foot further from the wall. Part of the new section thus exposed included a hinge, and Rale knowingly bent the spike upwards, impressed at his own ingenuity. The others weren't quite as impressed, as doing so caused each of the floor spikes to shoot up a good 18 inches, jabbing into the legs of everyone who had been straddling them. Amid screams of pain - his own included - Rale hurriedly pulled the spike down from its "up" position and lowered it to the opposite direction. The spikes retracted to their normal height, then kept retracting until they were all the way through the bottom of the floor, leaving behind only small holes where they had protruded. Then, with a shudder, the whole floor started lowering as well, spinning slowly in a counterclockwise direction as the entire pit floor unscrewed lower into the ground. As the stone mechanism lowered, an open doorway seemed to rise from the floor.</p><p></p><p>"This must be the place after all," remarked Rale. Then, before anybody else could beat him to it, he called out "Dibs on the sword!"</p><p></p><p>The doorway led to a short corridor, at the end of which was a closed metal door. After examining it and finding no traps, Rale cautiously opened it up. On the other side was an enormous natural cavern, stretching farther than the group's light sources could reveal. Stalactites hung down from overhead, and a narrow, open stone bridge cut straight across into darkness. There was no telling how far down it would be if anyone fell off the side of the bridge, but the lack of walls or handholds made it look like a dangerous proposition to cross. Rale signaled for silence, and heard the occasional drip of water from somewhere down below, plus the occasional chirp, possibly from a bat or similar creature. After listening to the sounds of the cave and hearing nothing else, Rale cautiously led the group across the slightly arching stone formation.</p><p></p><p>As they crossed, the chirping noises got louder and more numerous. Perhaps attracted to the group's light sources or possibly by the noises they made, a few stirges fluttered down to investigate the adventurers. This was followed by more and more with each passing second, until there was a virtual swarm of the beasts, each darting in and trying to penetrate delicate flesh with its wicked proboscis. The bloodsuckers were difficult for the adventurers to fight off while balancing on a natural stone bridge with a fall of unknown depth below if they slipped; Slayer found his greatsword invariably cut several of the beasts in half with each swing, but there were more than enough to replace each one he cut down. Soon the entire group had multiple stirges attached to them, eagerly sucking blood. Telgrane and Feron managed to let fly with some area-effect fire spells, which burned a great number of stirges all at once, but the insatiable creatures' numbers seemed endless in the vast cavern.</p><p></p><p>Rale had crossed the bridge as quickly as he could and was disheartened to see that the bridge ended in a small ledge with another metal door, this one locked. Worse, it wasn't a standard lock that might be picked, but rather one of those damned puzzle-based locks. There were four square indentations in the door’s center, and along the left side hung a series of eight metal plates, each the same size as the indentations, and each bearing the holy symbol of a different god. Rale recognized several of them immediately: Correlon Larethian, Ehlonna, Heironeous, and Kord's holy symbols stood out if only because they were worshiped by various Wing Three members. Likewise, he recognized Boccob's symbol through their association with their friend Altamaic. Pelor's was fairly obvious, too, and the skull symbol belonged to one of the evil, nastier deities - Vecna, maybe, or Nerull. Then there was a green face belonging to one of the nature gods.</p><p></p><p>It was apparent that the trick to opening the door was to place the correct four holy symbols in the right slots. Looking closely at the slots, Rale saw that they were each pierced by 16 holes in a four-by-four grid; pulling a holy symbol from the side at random, he saw that it had over half a dozen thin pegs that formed no discernable pattern, but which would line up in any of the four slots quite nicely. Pulling another holy symbol down and comparing the backs, he saw that the pegs were different on each, but each would line up in any of the four slots. So that meant that the four symbols would have to not only be selected as the correct ones, but they'd also likely have to be placed in the correct order. It also meant that the lock was practically unpickable, as it would require pushing in the correct holes all at once, something far beyond the abilities of even his masterwork thieves tools.</p><p></p><p>"Crap!" cursed the rogue. "Feron, c'mere and tell me what these holy symbols mean!"</p><p></p><p>Between blasts of her fire spells, which sent hordes of stirges plummeting to their deaths below in streaks of flame, Feron called out the gods represented by the holy symbols. In order, they were Boccob, Correlon Larethian, Ehlonna, Heironeous, Kord, Nerull, Obad-Hai, and Pelor.</p><p></p><p>"Try the good ones!" she suggested, pulling a blood-bloated stirge from her neck. "Ehlonna, Hieroneous, Pelor, Corellon...oh, and Kord. That's five."</p><p></p><p>"Let's hurry it up!" called Slayer, who was getting light-headed from the loss of blood. "Open the blasted door!"</p><p></p><p>"Soon would be good!" agreed Telgrane, who was rapidly running out of area-effect spells against the growing numbers of stirges and was having difficulty hiding behind the flaming form of his small fire elemental familiar. Infernia, for her part, was waving her hands around in a "shooing" motion that kept those stirges nearest her at bay.</p><p></p><p>"Oh, for pity's sake!" scoffed Feron, grabbing up four symbols and placing them in the correct order, calling them out as she fitted them into their respective slots. "Obad-Hai, Pelor, Erythnul, Nerull: O-P-E-N, open!" And sure enough, as she plugged Nerull's unholy symbol into place, there was an audible click and the metal door swung inwards into the next room. Everybody piled through, and then Slayer insisted on immediate healing. It was a good call, too, as his normally dark half-orcish face was lighter in skin tone than any of the others and he was too weak from loss of blood to stand up and carry his greatsword. Feron's newly-presented narwhal-horn <em>staff of life</em> was put to repeated use, as numerous charges were expended replenishing the life-blood that had been drained by the thirsty stirge swarms.</p><p></p><p>Only after everyone was healed back to fighting trim did they look around at their newest surroundings. The other side of the metal door was a stone platform with a set of carved stairs leading down into an empty chamber below. The ceiling was natural, with hanging stalactites pointing down into the chamber. Once again, Rale took the lead, Slayer behind him, then Feron, followed by Telgrane and Infernia at the rear. As the group got about halfway down, Rale suddenly leapt back and crashed into Slayer, causing the half-orc to snarl in irritation. Just as Rale started to explain that he thought he'd just triggered a plate in the stair, it started raining metal spheres from the stalactites in the cavern's roof. These marble-sized metal balls struck the group upon the head and shoulders, then caused tripping hazards as they got underfoot. Slayer and Telgrane both lost their balance on the narrow stairs; Slayer had the misfortune of pitching over the side and cascading to the cavern floor below.</p><p></p><p>Worse, after the rain of orbs was finished, the tiny spheres started rolling around of their own accord, rolling together as if magnetized and forming the shape of an enormous serpent.</p><p></p><p>"I don't like the looks of this!" called out Telgrane.</p><p></p><p>"Run!" agreed Rale, who had spotted another door across the chamber. Unfortunately, it looked like it led back into the stirge cavern they had just left, only this time on the ground floor. Still, at least they knew what they'd be dealing with among the stirges, whereas this orb construct serpent was an unknown quantity. The group had a few tumbles as they stepped on stray metal orbs, but they made it across the room before the serpent could do much in the way of attacking - it shot a barrage of metal orbs from its "mouth" that mostly impacted on the metal door as Telgrane slammed it shut behind him.</p><p></p><p>The floor of the cavern was littered with the still-flaming bodies of numerous stirges, enough to give a general view of the size of the enormous cavern. The stone arch was somewhere overhead, beyond the radius of the group's light sources, but they could see several areas where water had accumulated over the years into still, dark pools. The group was wary of attacking stirges, but the vast majority of the beasts had either already been slain in area-attack spells or already had their fill of blood for the moment and had returned to their hidden nests among the stalactites far above. The group moved deeper into the cavern, looking for an exit.</p><p></p><p>About halfway through the enormous cavern, there was the grinding sound of stone on stone. This was accompanied by the sounds of pebbles falling to the stone floor, as the group approached near enough to a side wall to see the petrified skeleton of some great beast pull itself from the wall in which it had been embedded. Similar noises came from both in front and behind them; eventually, three great skeletal beasts pulled themselves free from the surrounding rock and lumbered towards the group. Two scurried on all fours; of these, one had three great horns jutting out from its shieldlike head, while the other was lower to the ground and built much like an oversized lizard with a great fin jutting up from its back. The third skeleton stood upright, with a gigantic head filled with daggerlike teeth. Surprisingly, it gave a tremendous roar that reverberated along the cavern walls and shook the adventurers to their core. Lacking a cleric capable of turning such undead beasts, the group made a run for it to the far section of the cave, where the passageway both narrowed and made a wide turn to the left, lowering further into the earth as it did so. The way ahead led to a small underground lake, and not wanting to explore its unknown depths, the group was forced to deal with the primeval skeletons before they dared move on. The beasts' petrified bones made them as tough as animated stone, but the narrowing passageway forced no more than two of the beasts to attack at a time; this gave the adventurers the opportunity to pick them off bit by bit, until eventually all three had been destroyed and lay in a heap of bone. Only then did the group stop to catch their breath, apply healing spells (and consume healing potions), and look around at what next faced them.</p><p></p><p>The lake was still, as would be expected underground, yet the surface of the water was constantly being dripped upon by the stalactites overhead. A "shore" of stone stretched for a short distance in both directions from the cavern opening, yet there was no way to get to the far "shore" - just identifiable at the edge of their field of vision - without entering the lake.</p><p></p><p>Fortunately, there seemed to be a way to do so in safety: a small wooden box lay abandoned on the group's side of the lake. Examining it, it had no visible means of opening, but it had a legend carved ito its top, which read, "THE COMMAS END BUT WORDS LAST FOREVER IN THOUGHT." The caption was carved in the center of a circle of seemingly random letters.</p><p></p><p>"This is obviously a <em>folding boat</em>," commented Telgrane, who had read of such things in his studies. "And I'll bet the phrase has something to do with the word that activates it." He tried reading the phrase aloud, to no avail. He then tried reading the letters that encircled the phrase, but they weren't even pronouncable as written. Finally, after even Feron admitted to being stumped, Telgrane attempted matching up the letters in the phrase to the letters in the circle around them - if he ignored the letters in the carved phrase which did not appear in the circle around it, he wound up with "--- COMMA- -ND --- WORD- LA-- FOR---R IN --O-G--."</p><p></p><p>"Command word 'laforrinog!'" he exclaimed in triumph. At the verbalization of the last word, the wooden box shifted and warped, unfolding itself in a geometric impossibility that defied the senses into a wooden rowboat with a pair of oars sitting inside. Also sitting on one of the seats was a small metal key. "Everybody in!" commanded Slayer, glad that the reading part was finally over. "I'll row!"</p><p></p><p>"I don't like this, Master," commented Infernia, looking fearfully at the expanse of water ahead, while Rale pocketed the key.</p><p></p><p>"In you go," replied Telgrane, flipping open the top of his tinder box. The fire elemental gratefully jumped inside, shrinking down into her glowing ember form as she did so.</p><p></p><p>There was a metal door on the farther shore, and Slayer rowed diligently towards it. As they neared the middle of the lake, the water seemed to bubble and boil, but close observation showed that the water wasn't actually boiling; rather, small blobs of protoplasm were rising up to the surface. "Some sort of ooze!" cried out Feron in alarm, as the aquatic ooze swarm started creeping up over the sides of the rowboat. To make matters worse, there was another primeval roar of fury, and another petrified dinosaur skeleton reared up from the water, its head holding a long, curved crest jutting from the back of its head. It started making its way towards the bobbing vessel.</p><p></p><p>"Keep rowing!" commanded Rale, as Slayer made to grab up his greatsword. Feron and Telgrane used what ranged spells they had remaining in their respective spell inventories to take out the dinosaur skeleton, while Rale did what he could to push the oozes off the boat and back into the water. He learned the hard way that allowing them to touch bare flesh allowed them to latch on and start absorbing blood through the skin; his stomach turned as he saw several of the translucent spheres turn a familiar reddish color as they drew blood out of his hand.</p><p></p><p>The dinosaur skeleton dropped back into the water after a final barrage of <em>magic missiles</em> from Telgrane, and Slayer increased speed to the shore. Everyone jumped out of the boat and onto the stone floor, pulling the boat up behind them, then watched to see if the oozes would follow them. Fortunately, they seemed to be better suited to an aquatic existance, for they slid back into the clear waters and submerged.</p><p></p><p>Rale approached the door and pulled the key out of his pocket. Not surprisingly, it fit perfectly. However, to his dismay, it wouldn't turn, neither left nor right. He removed the key and tried peeking into the keyhole, but this wasn't a door whose keyhole went all the way through the door; he saw nothing. "Weird," he commented.</p><p></p><p>"You want to know something even weirder?" asked Telgrane, activating a <em>detect magic</em> spell. "That 'door' you're playing with is radiating an aura of illusion. I'll bet it isn't even a door." Sure enough, it wasn't - rather, it was the illusion of a door cast over a slab of smooth stone the size and shape of the illusory door, complete with a "keyhole" carved into the rock at the appropriate height and depth.</p><p></p><p>"So where's the blasted door?" demanded Rale, getting a bit fed up with all of the hoops he was having to jump through to claim the fabled sword <em>Belladonna</em>.</p><p></p><p>"Try over here," suggested Feron, who had cast a <em>detect magic</em> spell of her own, and had zeroed in on an apparently blank section of cavern wall some 20 feet away from the illusory door. "I'm getting a strong illusory aura from right over here."</p><p></p><p>Some scrabbling around with his fingers (and his eyes closed, to block out the illusory sensory input which was telling him there was nothing there but a cavern wall), Rale found the real keyhole and slipped the key in. This time, it turned easily in the lock, and the door opened into another room, this one apparently carved by magic from the solid stone, for it was a large square with walls 40 feet on a side.</p><p></p><p>This, at long last, gave every appearance of being the room the adventurers had been seeking, for there on the floor in front of a large metal chest covered with glowing runes was an elaborately hilted short sword, no doubt Dascombe Quickblade's legendary sword - its blade, sadly, snapped into three pieces. However, there were other features of the room which immediately stood out, like the fact that standing beside the opened chest was a desiccated female corpse, her body little more than parchment-like skin stretched tight over bones, yet somehow animate enough to embrace a young woman clad in familiar black combat leathers. Standing dumbfoundedly staring at their embrace, his back turned to the group of newcomers, was a young, fair-haired man in dusty traveling gear. An unusual toad fluttered its feathered wings in consternation upon his shoulder.</p><p></p><p>Several other details in the chamber came to immediate focus: the painting of a beautiful young woman on prominent display on the wall behind the chest, the holy symbols hanging from each of the trove’s walls, the neatly-folded camping gear – bedrolls, tents with coiled rope and lined-up tent stakes, blankets – stacked along the wall to the right. As the group stared in amazed silence, the corpse became healthier and more vital before their eyes, as the woman in black leathers slipped away into apparent unconsciousness. As she slumped to the floor, Rale immediately realized two things: first, the corpse that stood before him, wiping blood from her full lips, looked to be the spitting image of the woman in the painting; and second, the unconscious and deathly pale woman lying motionlessly on the floor at her feet, with two crimson holes at her jugular, was none other than Kazmira the Magpie.</p><p></p><p>The suddenly-revitalized woman looked up at the group of adventurers. "Come to join in the fun?" she purred. "Excellent - my thirst won't likely be quenched solely by the likes of these two." And with a wave of her hand and a flash of her eyes, she called out to the dumbstruck figure standing before her, "Take them!"</p><p></p><p>Gareth turned and faced the group, the only expression on his face a sudden eagerness to obey his new mistress to the fullest of his ability. He spouted off the words to a quick spell and a barrage of <em>magic missiles</em> went flying into Telgrane, the only member Gareth didn't recognize, and thus an unknown quantity who should be taken out as quickly as possible. Telgrane staggered under the blast, but unhinged his tinder box as he began the words to his own spell.</p><p></p><p>"Get the vampire!" commanded Rale to Feron and Slayer, realizing his own skills would be put to better use against a human foe like Gareth. Plus - he wasn't ashamed to admit it - he wanted revenge on Gareth for his betrayal of the group, whereas this vampire chick, whoever she was, meant nothing to him.</p><p></p><p>The "vampire chick," however, had apparently spent some time during her life learning the martial arts, for she waded into battle with Slayer without hesitation, dodging under his greatsword and sweeping his feet out from under him. The burly half-orc landed on his back with a painful thud and felt the anger welling up within him. Releasing himself to its flow, he jumped back to his feet and let out a roar of rage as he rushed the nimble vampire, who had turned her attention to Feron.</p><p></p><p>Feron, in the meantime, had opted to stay out of immediate reach and attack the undead creature with spells. She still had some blasts left from the <em>call lightning</em> spell she had used on the aquatic dinosaur skeleton, and used it to drop several bolts of electricity down upon the vampire. Between her lightning strikes and Slayer's rage-fueled greatsword, they managed to keep a steady string of hurt going on the vampire monk. Gareth was faring little better, for Telgrane not only was holding his own, spellwise, against the traitorous sorcerer, but kept Gareth focused on him long enough for Rale to get in a few sneak attacks. Despite having been dominated into fighting for the vampiress, Gareth's all was just not enough, and he fell to a final thrust from Rale's blade. Joanna, who sometime during the months since Gareth's betrayal had gained a set of pigeon-sized wings, was taken out by a single <em>magic missile</em> spell.</p><p></p><p>That made it four against one in the adventurers' favor, and before too long the vampire was cut down. She immediately turned to mist, which floated over to the opened metal chest and reformed into her slumbering form. "The chest's her coffin," remarked Rale, seeing the layer of grave dirt coating the bottom. Slayer did the honors, cutting off her head as she was helpless in her coffin, destroying her forever, her lifelike body crumbling to centuries-old dust. Feron noted that there were holy symbols from several different good deities attached to the inside of the chest - or rather, to her coffin lid. She surmised they had been put there to keep her trapped in her coffin, for however long she had been placed here.</p><p></p><p>"His greatest treasure," said Feron, looking at the painting of the young woman they had just slain. "Dascombe Quickblade had this whole place built to house his greatest treasure...."</p><p></p><p>"Yeah, well, it's broken," remarked Rale, obliviously, picking up the pieces of the shattered short sword. "I wonder if the Guild weaponsmiths would be able to reforge it?" He put each piece of the broken blade into the scabbard laying at its side, then buckled it onto his belt. "But before we go, I want to make sure of something." He walked over to the limp form of Kazmira, her pale skin a ghastly pallor in the torchlight, and placed a finger at her throat. "She's not breathing," he said, and propped her up into a sitting position. Then, with his hands on either side of her head, he gave a quick twist and snapped her neck, then dropped her lifeless body to the ground. Then, just to be extra sure, he had Slayer decapitate her with his greatsword; no point in taking the chance that she'd come back as a vampire herself.</p><p></p><p>"So how'd these two get down here before we did?" Feron wanted to know.</p><p></p><p>"Probably with these," commented Telgrane, pulling an empty potion flask from Gareth's belt. "<em>Potions of gaseous form</em>, I'd wager."</p><p></p><p>"That wouldn't allow them to get through the <em>antimagic field</em>," argued Rale.</p><p></p><p>"There's got to be another way to the surface," reasoned Telgrane. "Those stirges must have some way to get to a food source; everything else we've seen here was either undead or some sort of construct."</p><p></p><p>"Makes sense," agreed Feron. "So, shall we go?"</p><p></p><p>They went, but not before looting the bodies of their slain foes. Kazmira's pack held Dascombe's original journal and gemstone, and she also had a magical rapier and dagger and an amulet which prevented the wearer from being successfully scried upon. Gareth's greatsword and dagger were both of masterwork quality if not magical themselves, and he also wore a ring and amulet that provided various forms of protection. He had several magical scrolls in a case at his back, and between the two of them the group recovered several potions, of various strengths of healing and <em>gaseous form</em>.</p><p></p><p>The way back through the treasure trove was uneventful, and the group eventually caught back up with Old Clem and Ezekiel Featherquill, who they found gagged and bound back-to-back at their encampment, with Fang in a state of magical slumber beside them. Among the group's horses were two others they didn't recognize; after freeing their compatriots (and waking up Fang) the adventurers were told the two had been attacked and overpowered by Kazmira and Gareth, who were pleased to see that the Guild had sent Wing Three to search out the short sword <em>Belladonna</em>. At first it seemed odd that the two thieves hadn't brought along any camping gear, but this was easily explained by a quick perusal of the saddlebags of one of their horses - inside was the <em>Daern's dollhouse</em> that Kazmira and Gareth had used in their safehouse, immediately before Balama's magical summons teleported away most of those who had been fighting them.</p><p></p><p><em>All in all, not a bad haul</em>, thought Rale, as the group mounted up and headed back the way they had come.</p><p></p><p>- - -</p><p></p><p>This was a fun adventure to run. Jacob was in full panic mode up on the stone bridge fighting the stirge swarms; I think Slayer dropped down to a 2 Constitution before Vicki and Dan figured out the puzzle door, and he was sweating bullets, sure that his barbarian was going to die. I had found some plastic dinosaur skeletons at a local party favor shop that were pretty spot-on scalewise for use with D&D, and had picked up a bunch for less than a buck each; this seemed like a good opportunity to use them, so I added them in when I wrote the adventure. The orb construct serpent used a template from a "Template Troves" gaming accessory I had written that was to have been published by Silverthorne Games, only the company decided to get out of the business once 4E came about and it never materialized.</p><p></p><p>The group had kind of expected to meet up with Kazmira and Gareth again, but hadn't really expected that this would be the adventure where they got to take care of them for good.</p><p></p><p>Dascombe Quickblade's <em>Belladonna</em> had originally been a <em>+4 short sword of speed</em>, and had been broken during the fight in which Dascombe and his allies had first captured his vampiric daughter. The Guild weaponsmiths told Rale they could attempt to reforge it into either a <em>+3 short sword</em> or a <em>+1 short sword of speed</em>; Rale had them attempt the latter, and they were successful.</p><p></p><p>And as for the <em>Daern's dollhouse</em>, I made up a scale map out of posterboard, and that's been one of the most-used magic items the group has ever had. Feron keeps it in her backpack, and whoever's adventuring with her generally uses it to sleep in when out in the field. It has four bedrooms, a kitchen, and even a stables; the trickiest bit is finding a good place to put it when they camp out for the night where it won't be easily discovered.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Richards, post: 6054619, member: 508"] [B]ADVENTURE 32 - MY GREATEST TREASURE[/B] PC Roster: [INDENT]Feron Dru, half-elf druid[/INDENT] [INDENT] Rale Bodkin, human rogue[/INDENT] [INDENT] Slayer, half-orc barbarian[/INDENT] [INDENT] Telgrane, human conjurer[/INDENT] I wrote "My Greatest Treasure" for one reason only: Rale had recently been slain by a fiendish kraken and had lost all of his gear, including [I]Liverwurst[/I], his magical short sword. I wanted a reason to plant a "replacement sword" in the campaign, and decided that a trap-filled tomb specifically built to house such a sword was the way to go. (A trap-filled adventure practically guaranteed Rale's involvement, as he was the only rogue in the group.) Here's the starting status I gave the group: The PCs are called before one of the Guild administrators, who describes an upcoming delve. These are the facts as they know them: [LIST] [*][B]Dascombe Quickblade[/B] was a seasoned veteran of many battles who lived and died several hundred years ago. He carved himself out a kingdom among a group of warring fiefdoms and lived to be well into his sixties. [*]He was known for his enchanted blade, which he named [I][B]Belladonna[/B][/I] after his only daughter. The short sword was of exquisite manufacture; some say it was created by a trio of the finest elven artisans of the day. The specifics of the sword’s powers differ according to the legends, but they all agree that its enchantment was very powerful, and that Dascombe was never seen without it. [*]Dascombe died quietly in bed, within a year of seeing his daughter precede him in death. Some say that his heart was broken when she died; others claim that he was poisoned by a greedy advisor who wanted the kingdom for himself. [*]After his death, Dascombe’s known possessions were all accounted for, save for his enchanted sword, which has never been recovered. [*]Recently, much of his former estate, including his extensive library, was sold at a public auction by his descendents, who have since fallen on hard times. The Adventurers Guild purchased a significant chunk of his papers and journals. [*]A Guild scribe recently discovered that a gem Dascombe often wore on a pendant around his neck was magical in nature, allowing anyone who viewed through it to see invisible markings hidden in the margins in some of his journals. These invisible markings detailed a secret treasure hold hidden in the mountains where Dascombe’s greatest treasure is kept. It is believed that this “greatest treasure” is none other than his enchanted short sword, [I]Belladonna[/I]. [*]Last night, the Guild scribe was examining the journals through the magical gem when he was struck from behind and rendered unconscious. When he awoke, both the journal and the gem were gone. Fortunately, the thief was apparently unaware that the scribe had already transcribed the invisible markings into a ledger of his own, so the Guild still has a copy of Dascombe’s description of his hidden treasure hold. [*]The Guild had been planning on gathering a party of adventurers together to find the hidden hold and recover [I]Belladonna[/I], but now time is of the essence, since apparently there’s someone else after the sword as well. [*]The PCs will be accompanied on their journey into the mountains by the Guild scribe, [B]Ezekiel Featherquill[/B]. They have the rest of the day to gather together their provisions and equipment. [/LIST] - - - "Well, that's just typical," groused Rale. "Why doesn't this Guild have a better sense of security? We've got folks traipsing in here getting our own stolen Guild rings recharged, we've got assassins waltzing in here as bold as you please, and now we've got thieves stealing Guild property from right under the noses of Guild scribes. Please tell me this Featherquill fellow wasn't here in Guild Headquarters when the stuff got nabbed?" "No, I believe he was in his own private residence," remarked Telgrane, who had apparently paid a bit more attention to the briefing they'd all been given. "So Featherquill just takes whatever Guild property he wants home with him?" Rale complained, determined to have something to gripe about. "Lovely, just lovely." "We're just lucky he had a backup copy," replied Telgrane. "Or this delve would be finished before it even started." "I wonder who stole the original journals and gemstone?" wondered Feron aloud. "Betcha anything it was Kazmira," Rale responded. "This sounds like her style - rip off something valuable and play us for fools at the same time." "We'll see," Feron replied. "Maybe we'll meet up with her at the treasure hold, or with whoever it was that attacked Ezekiel. In any case, is everybody ready to go?" "Old Clem's getting the horses packed," said Telgrane. "Let's head down to the stables." "I'll swing by and get Fang," remarked Slayer. "Meet you there." - - - The first several days of travel were relatively uneventful, and the group eventually made their way safely to the foot of the mountain range described in Dascombe’s notes. A narrow trail wound through the mountains that looked promising. Slayer led his horse up the mountain path with Fang trotting along at his side, and the others followed suit, Old Clem and Ezekiel bringing up the rear with the pack horses. Several hours up into the pass, the group was confronted by a stout figure, looking rather like a 12-foot-tall dwarf with reddish orange hair. He wore half-plate armor and wielded a greatsword longer than two men standing head to toe. “What have we here?” he thundered. “Willing slaves for my forge, or morsels for the stewpot?” "Neither," replied Telgrane amicably, trying to keep things calm. "Just a group of travelers, looking to pass by without any trouble." While he spoke, he surreptitiously popped open the top of the metal tinder box hung at his hip, just in case. The glow from Infernia in cinder form was barely discernable, but she was able to hear that battle might soon be commencing. "Tell you what, then," replied the fire giant. "I'm in a good mood, so I'll make you a deal. You turn over two of your number to me, and I'll let the rest of you pass unharmed." "I'm afraid we'll have to pass on that offer," replied Telgrane. Slayer, meanwhile, was reaching for his greatsword with a frown, wondering why Telgrane was wasting all of this time [I]talking[/I] when there was obviously a fierce battle to be had. And then Fang growled and turned his head up to the rock above them, where a furry, canine head could be seen peeking through the mountain scrub. A glint of metal hinted at barding covering the creature's hide. "Ambush!" growled Slayer, whipping out his greatsword and spinning his horse to face the threat from the side. The Nessian warhound leapt down from its ledge above the others, and battle commenced. Slayer took a swipe at the massive beast on the way down and sliced through its side, eliciting a howl of pain from the thing and a retaliatory blast of fire from its wide jaws. Telgrane concentrated his initial attack on the fire giant, casting a [I]magic missile[/I] barrage that was certain to strike true. As he did so, Infernia leapt out of the tinderbox in a gout of flame, assuming her horned humanoid form as she did so. She let out a hiss of disappointment once she saw she was dealing with a firebreather; such beasts were usually immune to her fiery attacks. Feron backed her horse up and cast a [I]call lightning[/I] spell, causing bolts of electricity to lash down at the giant. "We've got the dog, you handle the giant!" Rale called to Slayer, as he dropped from the saddle - there was no way he wanted to fall off of a mountain path on horseback when he could ensure he had better footing from the safety of the ground. Slayer followed suit, jumping from the saddle the better to engage the fire giant on his own. And the group's tactics worked; the Nessian warhound was dealt with relatively quickly, allowing the others to concentrate on helping Slayer and Feron deal with the giant. Before long he too had been slain. Looting the giant and his canine pet gave Rale the opportunity for more griping; the fire giant's armor and greatsword were obviously valuable, but much too large to be put to use by the group, and too unwieldy to be brought along to be sold later. At least he had a pouch with four large rubies in it; Rale pocketed those for safekeeping, slightly consoled. And the chain mail barding from the massive hell hound was not only magical in nature but was of the same general size as Fang; despite wanting nothing to do with it initially, Slayer was eventually able to coax the dire wolf into allowing it to be placed on him and tightened to fit. The group saddled up and moved on. - - - After several more hours of travel, the group reached a cave opening that Ezekiel claimed fit the description of the location of the entrance to Dascombe’s hidden treasure hold. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary about the cave, although as the group got closer they detected the heavy odor of a large, shaggy mammal. Rale dismounted from his horse and the others backed up down the mountain trail as he peeked inside. Apparently, assuming this was indeed the cave leading to Dascombe's horde, in the years since he had his cache built here a mated pair of dire bears had taken up residence in the cave. They were currently inside the cave and fast asleep, but Rale suspected any loud noise would be sure to awaken them. He returned to the others, explained the situation, and then Feron approached the cave on her own. Peering inside, she saw the slumbering bruins amid the remains of previous meals lying scattered across the cave floor: the bones and matted fur of deer, mountain goats, and the like. She had a pair of [I]charm animal[/I] spells prepared, and the sound of her casting awoke the groggy pair, who fortunately both succumbed to her spellcasting. A [I]speak with animals[/I] spell allowed her to express her wish that the two dire bears not attack anyone from the group. The bears countered that they were hungry and a nice meal of horse would really hit the spot right about now. After translating the bears' request, the group talked it over and decided that a pack horse was a small price to pay for the support of a pair of loyal dire bears guarding the way into the treasure hold, especially if the thief who stole Dascombe's gemstone and journals from Ezekiel would likewise be mounting an expedition this way. Feron asked the bears if any people had been this way recently, and they responded that the last human they had seen was several months ago - and that he had been delicious. The male dire bear smacked his lips with his lengthy tongue at the memory. One of the pack horses was unloaded, led nervously into the cave, and quickly dispatched by Slayer, who handled his greatsword diligently to ensure the creature didn't suffer. Old Clem and Ezekiel watched nervously as the two dire bears ripped into their meal, and jointly decided that despite the protection from the elements that the cave afforded, they'd make camp down the trail a bit, where the path widened enough to make a decent campsite. Fang would be left with them as additional protection, as he had developed a rapport with the elderly hireling over the months. Old Clem felt much safer with Fang at his side, especially since he had no idea how long Feron's spells would last and just how long these two monster-bears would remain friendly. The rest of the group gathered up their adventuring gear and went to the back recesses of the cave. There, they found a nearly perfectly circular pit some 10 feet in diameter. It went straight down into the rock of the mountain, seemingly much too uniform to be a natural formation. The pit's depth was soon swallowed in darkness, making it impossible to guess how deep it might be; even Slayer's darkvision was unable to penetrate to the bottom of the pit. "I'll go down first," volunteered Feron. "I've got the [I]boots of spider climbing[/I], so I can just walk down the side of the pit and see what's down there." Rale agreed that that was a fine idea, as he gathered together everyone's lengths of rope and tied them together. Slayer took a piton from his pack and busied himself hammering it into place, not too close to the pit's edge. Feron, an [I]everburning candle[/I] in hand, activated her boots and walked down the side of the vertical pit. The first 20 feet of the pit were unremarkable, save for their uniform smoothness that hinted at other than natural origins. However, right at the 20-foot mark, the pit's interior suddenly plunged into pitch blackness. "It's a [I]darkness[/I] spell!" Feron called up to the others. "Can you dispel it?" called down Rale. "Not at the moment," replied the half-elf, mentally going through her prepared spell inventory. "I'll give it a try," offered Telgrane, casting a [I]dispel magic[/I] at the area of darkness below. It had no effect. "Do you want to come back up?" asked the young conjurer. "No, I'll just continue on, slowly," called back Feron. Walking down the vertical shaft slowly proved to be an excellent idea. At the 80-foot point, Feron's foot slid off the side of the stone as she was about to put her weight on it. She dangled precariously from her one foot for the space of time it took her to pull her other foot back and plant it safely on the side of the wall where it had been before she took her last step forward. She tentatively slid her foot forward along the wall, and found the same thing happening again - one moment, it was sticking to the wall just fine; the next, it was as if her boot wasn't even magical at all. "[I]Antimagic field[/I]," reasoned Telgrane after she had called up her findings. "Maybe you'd better come back up." Feron found no reason to argue, and made her way back up to the top of the pit. By this time, Rale had the ropes all bound together into one length and had secured one end to the piton. "Volunteers?" he asked. "Too bad Teabag isn't here," commented Slayer. "He likes dangling into things." The group decision was that Rale should be the one to climb down, and the young rogue could find no counterargument that made sense, so he dropped the other end of the rope into the pit and tried to listen to how long it took the other end to hit bottom, but the rope didn't make enough noise for it to be conclusive. He repeated the experiment with a small stone with better luck and estimated that the pit was likely more than 100 feet deep. They had just shy of 150 feet of rope, so hopefully that would be enough. He asked Feron for one of her [I]everburning candles[/I], which she handed over with a puzzled look on her face. "You don't think that will be able to counter the magical darkness, do you?" she asked. "I didn't have any luck with it." "No," Rale replied, "but it should tell me when I'm past the [I]antimagic field[/I]." He tucked the candle into the side of a pocket flap, just enough for the light-producing end to poke out, and started repelling his way down. Sure enough, at about 20 feet down the light from the candle went out, and Rale found himself in absolute darkness. He gave himself a moment to adjust, then continued down. At what he guessed was probably the 80-foot point, the [I]antimagic field[/I] should have kicked in, but he had no way to verify. He continued down. Some forty feet lower, Rale discovered the bottom. He did so by stabbing himself in the calf with an upthrust spike along the floor of the pit. Cursing loudly as he pulled himself from the spike, he slid his foot along the spike's side until it hit a solid floor. The candle was still dark; the [I]antimagic field[/I] was still in effect. "I'm down!" Rale called up to the others. "Throw me down a torch so I can see!" Telgrane grabbed up an unlit torch and held it out to his familiar, who set it ablaze with a touch of her hand. He pitched it into the pit, and watched its light snuff out when it hit the [I]deeper darkness[/I] effect. After enough time for it to have hit bottom, he called down, "What do you see?" "It's just a circular pit, filled with spikes!" Rale called back up. "Are we sure this is the right place?" "According to Ezekiel!" "Fine then, come on down, one at a time!" Rale called back up. "Lightest ones first! You're last, Slayer!" Feron grabbed the rope and climbed on down, calling up to Telgrane when she reached the bottom. "Hey, baby," cooed Rale to the druid. "Looks like it's just you and me down here." "For now," Feron replied coldly, then looked up to see when Telgrane would appear. The dangling rope wobbled, then the light from his open tinder box appeared; Infernia had reassumed cinder form and was being carried down at her master's side. After helping the young conjurer find his footing between the spikes, Feron called up to Slayer that it was safe for him to climb down. Rale, meanwhile, had been examining the circular wall of the pit, certain that if this was indeed Dascombe's treasure vault, there must be a hidden door somewhere. He failed to find one, but he did find a small hole about waist high. Its interior was threaded. As Slayer's great bulk lowered itself down to the pit floor, Rale realized that the hole was about the same diameter as the pit spikes. He examined the various spikes until he found what he was looking for. "Here, hold this," he commanded Slayer, thrusting the torch at him and grabbing a spike with both hands. Twisting it, the spike unscrewed from its base, and, as Rale had expected, it fit perfectly into the hole in the wall and screwed in securely. "I fail to see the point," commented Feron, oblivious to the obvious pun. "What does this do?" "Observe," commented Rale with a smug grin, and pushed the spike in. Or tried to, in any case - it didn't budge. "Hmm," he muttered thoughtfully, then gave the spike a tug instead. This had a better result; the spike extended a good foot further from the wall. Part of the new section thus exposed included a hinge, and Rale knowingly bent the spike upwards, impressed at his own ingenuity. The others weren't quite as impressed, as doing so caused each of the floor spikes to shoot up a good 18 inches, jabbing into the legs of everyone who had been straddling them. Amid screams of pain - his own included - Rale hurriedly pulled the spike down from its "up" position and lowered it to the opposite direction. The spikes retracted to their normal height, then kept retracting until they were all the way through the bottom of the floor, leaving behind only small holes where they had protruded. Then, with a shudder, the whole floor started lowering as well, spinning slowly in a counterclockwise direction as the entire pit floor unscrewed lower into the ground. As the stone mechanism lowered, an open doorway seemed to rise from the floor. "This must be the place after all," remarked Rale. Then, before anybody else could beat him to it, he called out "Dibs on the sword!" The doorway led to a short corridor, at the end of which was a closed metal door. After examining it and finding no traps, Rale cautiously opened it up. On the other side was an enormous natural cavern, stretching farther than the group's light sources could reveal. Stalactites hung down from overhead, and a narrow, open stone bridge cut straight across into darkness. There was no telling how far down it would be if anyone fell off the side of the bridge, but the lack of walls or handholds made it look like a dangerous proposition to cross. Rale signaled for silence, and heard the occasional drip of water from somewhere down below, plus the occasional chirp, possibly from a bat or similar creature. After listening to the sounds of the cave and hearing nothing else, Rale cautiously led the group across the slightly arching stone formation. As they crossed, the chirping noises got louder and more numerous. Perhaps attracted to the group's light sources or possibly by the noises they made, a few stirges fluttered down to investigate the adventurers. This was followed by more and more with each passing second, until there was a virtual swarm of the beasts, each darting in and trying to penetrate delicate flesh with its wicked proboscis. The bloodsuckers were difficult for the adventurers to fight off while balancing on a natural stone bridge with a fall of unknown depth below if they slipped; Slayer found his greatsword invariably cut several of the beasts in half with each swing, but there were more than enough to replace each one he cut down. Soon the entire group had multiple stirges attached to them, eagerly sucking blood. Telgrane and Feron managed to let fly with some area-effect fire spells, which burned a great number of stirges all at once, but the insatiable creatures' numbers seemed endless in the vast cavern. Rale had crossed the bridge as quickly as he could and was disheartened to see that the bridge ended in a small ledge with another metal door, this one locked. Worse, it wasn't a standard lock that might be picked, but rather one of those damned puzzle-based locks. There were four square indentations in the door’s center, and along the left side hung a series of eight metal plates, each the same size as the indentations, and each bearing the holy symbol of a different god. Rale recognized several of them immediately: Correlon Larethian, Ehlonna, Heironeous, and Kord's holy symbols stood out if only because they were worshiped by various Wing Three members. Likewise, he recognized Boccob's symbol through their association with their friend Altamaic. Pelor's was fairly obvious, too, and the skull symbol belonged to one of the evil, nastier deities - Vecna, maybe, or Nerull. Then there was a green face belonging to one of the nature gods. It was apparent that the trick to opening the door was to place the correct four holy symbols in the right slots. Looking closely at the slots, Rale saw that they were each pierced by 16 holes in a four-by-four grid; pulling a holy symbol from the side at random, he saw that it had over half a dozen thin pegs that formed no discernable pattern, but which would line up in any of the four slots quite nicely. Pulling another holy symbol down and comparing the backs, he saw that the pegs were different on each, but each would line up in any of the four slots. So that meant that the four symbols would have to not only be selected as the correct ones, but they'd also likely have to be placed in the correct order. It also meant that the lock was practically unpickable, as it would require pushing in the correct holes all at once, something far beyond the abilities of even his masterwork thieves tools. "Crap!" cursed the rogue. "Feron, c'mere and tell me what these holy symbols mean!" Between blasts of her fire spells, which sent hordes of stirges plummeting to their deaths below in streaks of flame, Feron called out the gods represented by the holy symbols. In order, they were Boccob, Correlon Larethian, Ehlonna, Heironeous, Kord, Nerull, Obad-Hai, and Pelor. "Try the good ones!" she suggested, pulling a blood-bloated stirge from her neck. "Ehlonna, Hieroneous, Pelor, Corellon...oh, and Kord. That's five." "Let's hurry it up!" called Slayer, who was getting light-headed from the loss of blood. "Open the blasted door!" "Soon would be good!" agreed Telgrane, who was rapidly running out of area-effect spells against the growing numbers of stirges and was having difficulty hiding behind the flaming form of his small fire elemental familiar. Infernia, for her part, was waving her hands around in a "shooing" motion that kept those stirges nearest her at bay. "Oh, for pity's sake!" scoffed Feron, grabbing up four symbols and placing them in the correct order, calling them out as she fitted them into their respective slots. "Obad-Hai, Pelor, Erythnul, Nerull: O-P-E-N, open!" And sure enough, as she plugged Nerull's unholy symbol into place, there was an audible click and the metal door swung inwards into the next room. Everybody piled through, and then Slayer insisted on immediate healing. It was a good call, too, as his normally dark half-orcish face was lighter in skin tone than any of the others and he was too weak from loss of blood to stand up and carry his greatsword. Feron's newly-presented narwhal-horn [I]staff of life[/I] was put to repeated use, as numerous charges were expended replenishing the life-blood that had been drained by the thirsty stirge swarms. Only after everyone was healed back to fighting trim did they look around at their newest surroundings. The other side of the metal door was a stone platform with a set of carved stairs leading down into an empty chamber below. The ceiling was natural, with hanging stalactites pointing down into the chamber. Once again, Rale took the lead, Slayer behind him, then Feron, followed by Telgrane and Infernia at the rear. As the group got about halfway down, Rale suddenly leapt back and crashed into Slayer, causing the half-orc to snarl in irritation. Just as Rale started to explain that he thought he'd just triggered a plate in the stair, it started raining metal spheres from the stalactites in the cavern's roof. These marble-sized metal balls struck the group upon the head and shoulders, then caused tripping hazards as they got underfoot. Slayer and Telgrane both lost their balance on the narrow stairs; Slayer had the misfortune of pitching over the side and cascading to the cavern floor below. Worse, after the rain of orbs was finished, the tiny spheres started rolling around of their own accord, rolling together as if magnetized and forming the shape of an enormous serpent. "I don't like the looks of this!" called out Telgrane. "Run!" agreed Rale, who had spotted another door across the chamber. Unfortunately, it looked like it led back into the stirge cavern they had just left, only this time on the ground floor. Still, at least they knew what they'd be dealing with among the stirges, whereas this orb construct serpent was an unknown quantity. The group had a few tumbles as they stepped on stray metal orbs, but they made it across the room before the serpent could do much in the way of attacking - it shot a barrage of metal orbs from its "mouth" that mostly impacted on the metal door as Telgrane slammed it shut behind him. The floor of the cavern was littered with the still-flaming bodies of numerous stirges, enough to give a general view of the size of the enormous cavern. The stone arch was somewhere overhead, beyond the radius of the group's light sources, but they could see several areas where water had accumulated over the years into still, dark pools. The group was wary of attacking stirges, but the vast majority of the beasts had either already been slain in area-attack spells or already had their fill of blood for the moment and had returned to their hidden nests among the stalactites far above. The group moved deeper into the cavern, looking for an exit. About halfway through the enormous cavern, there was the grinding sound of stone on stone. This was accompanied by the sounds of pebbles falling to the stone floor, as the group approached near enough to a side wall to see the petrified skeleton of some great beast pull itself from the wall in which it had been embedded. Similar noises came from both in front and behind them; eventually, three great skeletal beasts pulled themselves free from the surrounding rock and lumbered towards the group. Two scurried on all fours; of these, one had three great horns jutting out from its shieldlike head, while the other was lower to the ground and built much like an oversized lizard with a great fin jutting up from its back. The third skeleton stood upright, with a gigantic head filled with daggerlike teeth. Surprisingly, it gave a tremendous roar that reverberated along the cavern walls and shook the adventurers to their core. Lacking a cleric capable of turning such undead beasts, the group made a run for it to the far section of the cave, where the passageway both narrowed and made a wide turn to the left, lowering further into the earth as it did so. The way ahead led to a small underground lake, and not wanting to explore its unknown depths, the group was forced to deal with the primeval skeletons before they dared move on. The beasts' petrified bones made them as tough as animated stone, but the narrowing passageway forced no more than two of the beasts to attack at a time; this gave the adventurers the opportunity to pick them off bit by bit, until eventually all three had been destroyed and lay in a heap of bone. Only then did the group stop to catch their breath, apply healing spells (and consume healing potions), and look around at what next faced them. The lake was still, as would be expected underground, yet the surface of the water was constantly being dripped upon by the stalactites overhead. A "shore" of stone stretched for a short distance in both directions from the cavern opening, yet there was no way to get to the far "shore" - just identifiable at the edge of their field of vision - without entering the lake. Fortunately, there seemed to be a way to do so in safety: a small wooden box lay abandoned on the group's side of the lake. Examining it, it had no visible means of opening, but it had a legend carved ito its top, which read, "THE COMMAS END BUT WORDS LAST FOREVER IN THOUGHT." The caption was carved in the center of a circle of seemingly random letters. "This is obviously a [I]folding boat[/I]," commented Telgrane, who had read of such things in his studies. "And I'll bet the phrase has something to do with the word that activates it." He tried reading the phrase aloud, to no avail. He then tried reading the letters that encircled the phrase, but they weren't even pronouncable as written. Finally, after even Feron admitted to being stumped, Telgrane attempted matching up the letters in the phrase to the letters in the circle around them - if he ignored the letters in the carved phrase which did not appear in the circle around it, he wound up with "--- COMMA- -ND --- WORD- LA-- FOR---R IN --O-G--." "Command word 'laforrinog!'" he exclaimed in triumph. At the verbalization of the last word, the wooden box shifted and warped, unfolding itself in a geometric impossibility that defied the senses into a wooden rowboat with a pair of oars sitting inside. Also sitting on one of the seats was a small metal key. "Everybody in!" commanded Slayer, glad that the reading part was finally over. "I'll row!" "I don't like this, Master," commented Infernia, looking fearfully at the expanse of water ahead, while Rale pocketed the key. "In you go," replied Telgrane, flipping open the top of his tinder box. The fire elemental gratefully jumped inside, shrinking down into her glowing ember form as she did so. There was a metal door on the farther shore, and Slayer rowed diligently towards it. As they neared the middle of the lake, the water seemed to bubble and boil, but close observation showed that the water wasn't actually boiling; rather, small blobs of protoplasm were rising up to the surface. "Some sort of ooze!" cried out Feron in alarm, as the aquatic ooze swarm started creeping up over the sides of the rowboat. To make matters worse, there was another primeval roar of fury, and another petrified dinosaur skeleton reared up from the water, its head holding a long, curved crest jutting from the back of its head. It started making its way towards the bobbing vessel. "Keep rowing!" commanded Rale, as Slayer made to grab up his greatsword. Feron and Telgrane used what ranged spells they had remaining in their respective spell inventories to take out the dinosaur skeleton, while Rale did what he could to push the oozes off the boat and back into the water. He learned the hard way that allowing them to touch bare flesh allowed them to latch on and start absorbing blood through the skin; his stomach turned as he saw several of the translucent spheres turn a familiar reddish color as they drew blood out of his hand. The dinosaur skeleton dropped back into the water after a final barrage of [I]magic missiles[/I] from Telgrane, and Slayer increased speed to the shore. Everyone jumped out of the boat and onto the stone floor, pulling the boat up behind them, then watched to see if the oozes would follow them. Fortunately, they seemed to be better suited to an aquatic existance, for they slid back into the clear waters and submerged. Rale approached the door and pulled the key out of his pocket. Not surprisingly, it fit perfectly. However, to his dismay, it wouldn't turn, neither left nor right. He removed the key and tried peeking into the keyhole, but this wasn't a door whose keyhole went all the way through the door; he saw nothing. "Weird," he commented. "You want to know something even weirder?" asked Telgrane, activating a [I]detect magic[/I] spell. "That 'door' you're playing with is radiating an aura of illusion. I'll bet it isn't even a door." Sure enough, it wasn't - rather, it was the illusion of a door cast over a slab of smooth stone the size and shape of the illusory door, complete with a "keyhole" carved into the rock at the appropriate height and depth. "So where's the blasted door?" demanded Rale, getting a bit fed up with all of the hoops he was having to jump through to claim the fabled sword [I]Belladonna[/I]. "Try over here," suggested Feron, who had cast a [I]detect magic[/I] spell of her own, and had zeroed in on an apparently blank section of cavern wall some 20 feet away from the illusory door. "I'm getting a strong illusory aura from right over here." Some scrabbling around with his fingers (and his eyes closed, to block out the illusory sensory input which was telling him there was nothing there but a cavern wall), Rale found the real keyhole and slipped the key in. This time, it turned easily in the lock, and the door opened into another room, this one apparently carved by magic from the solid stone, for it was a large square with walls 40 feet on a side. This, at long last, gave every appearance of being the room the adventurers had been seeking, for there on the floor in front of a large metal chest covered with glowing runes was an elaborately hilted short sword, no doubt Dascombe Quickblade's legendary sword - its blade, sadly, snapped into three pieces. However, there were other features of the room which immediately stood out, like the fact that standing beside the opened chest was a desiccated female corpse, her body little more than parchment-like skin stretched tight over bones, yet somehow animate enough to embrace a young woman clad in familiar black combat leathers. Standing dumbfoundedly staring at their embrace, his back turned to the group of newcomers, was a young, fair-haired man in dusty traveling gear. An unusual toad fluttered its feathered wings in consternation upon his shoulder. Several other details in the chamber came to immediate focus: the painting of a beautiful young woman on prominent display on the wall behind the chest, the holy symbols hanging from each of the trove’s walls, the neatly-folded camping gear – bedrolls, tents with coiled rope and lined-up tent stakes, blankets – stacked along the wall to the right. As the group stared in amazed silence, the corpse became healthier and more vital before their eyes, as the woman in black leathers slipped away into apparent unconsciousness. As she slumped to the floor, Rale immediately realized two things: first, the corpse that stood before him, wiping blood from her full lips, looked to be the spitting image of the woman in the painting; and second, the unconscious and deathly pale woman lying motionlessly on the floor at her feet, with two crimson holes at her jugular, was none other than Kazmira the Magpie. The suddenly-revitalized woman looked up at the group of adventurers. "Come to join in the fun?" she purred. "Excellent - my thirst won't likely be quenched solely by the likes of these two." And with a wave of her hand and a flash of her eyes, she called out to the dumbstruck figure standing before her, "Take them!" Gareth turned and faced the group, the only expression on his face a sudden eagerness to obey his new mistress to the fullest of his ability. He spouted off the words to a quick spell and a barrage of [I]magic missiles[/I] went flying into Telgrane, the only member Gareth didn't recognize, and thus an unknown quantity who should be taken out as quickly as possible. Telgrane staggered under the blast, but unhinged his tinder box as he began the words to his own spell. "Get the vampire!" commanded Rale to Feron and Slayer, realizing his own skills would be put to better use against a human foe like Gareth. Plus - he wasn't ashamed to admit it - he wanted revenge on Gareth for his betrayal of the group, whereas this vampire chick, whoever she was, meant nothing to him. The "vampire chick," however, had apparently spent some time during her life learning the martial arts, for she waded into battle with Slayer without hesitation, dodging under his greatsword and sweeping his feet out from under him. The burly half-orc landed on his back with a painful thud and felt the anger welling up within him. Releasing himself to its flow, he jumped back to his feet and let out a roar of rage as he rushed the nimble vampire, who had turned her attention to Feron. Feron, in the meantime, had opted to stay out of immediate reach and attack the undead creature with spells. She still had some blasts left from the [I]call lightning[/I] spell she had used on the aquatic dinosaur skeleton, and used it to drop several bolts of electricity down upon the vampire. Between her lightning strikes and Slayer's rage-fueled greatsword, they managed to keep a steady string of hurt going on the vampire monk. Gareth was faring little better, for Telgrane not only was holding his own, spellwise, against the traitorous sorcerer, but kept Gareth focused on him long enough for Rale to get in a few sneak attacks. Despite having been dominated into fighting for the vampiress, Gareth's all was just not enough, and he fell to a final thrust from Rale's blade. Joanna, who sometime during the months since Gareth's betrayal had gained a set of pigeon-sized wings, was taken out by a single [I]magic missile[/I] spell. That made it four against one in the adventurers' favor, and before too long the vampire was cut down. She immediately turned to mist, which floated over to the opened metal chest and reformed into her slumbering form. "The chest's her coffin," remarked Rale, seeing the layer of grave dirt coating the bottom. Slayer did the honors, cutting off her head as she was helpless in her coffin, destroying her forever, her lifelike body crumbling to centuries-old dust. Feron noted that there were holy symbols from several different good deities attached to the inside of the chest - or rather, to her coffin lid. She surmised they had been put there to keep her trapped in her coffin, for however long she had been placed here. "His greatest treasure," said Feron, looking at the painting of the young woman they had just slain. "Dascombe Quickblade had this whole place built to house his greatest treasure...." "Yeah, well, it's broken," remarked Rale, obliviously, picking up the pieces of the shattered short sword. "I wonder if the Guild weaponsmiths would be able to reforge it?" He put each piece of the broken blade into the scabbard laying at its side, then buckled it onto his belt. "But before we go, I want to make sure of something." He walked over to the limp form of Kazmira, her pale skin a ghastly pallor in the torchlight, and placed a finger at her throat. "She's not breathing," he said, and propped her up into a sitting position. Then, with his hands on either side of her head, he gave a quick twist and snapped her neck, then dropped her lifeless body to the ground. Then, just to be extra sure, he had Slayer decapitate her with his greatsword; no point in taking the chance that she'd come back as a vampire herself. "So how'd these two get down here before we did?" Feron wanted to know. "Probably with these," commented Telgrane, pulling an empty potion flask from Gareth's belt. "[I]Potions of gaseous form[/I], I'd wager." "That wouldn't allow them to get through the [I]antimagic field[/I]," argued Rale. "There's got to be another way to the surface," reasoned Telgrane. "Those stirges must have some way to get to a food source; everything else we've seen here was either undead or some sort of construct." "Makes sense," agreed Feron. "So, shall we go?" They went, but not before looting the bodies of their slain foes. Kazmira's pack held Dascombe's original journal and gemstone, and she also had a magical rapier and dagger and an amulet which prevented the wearer from being successfully scried upon. Gareth's greatsword and dagger were both of masterwork quality if not magical themselves, and he also wore a ring and amulet that provided various forms of protection. He had several magical scrolls in a case at his back, and between the two of them the group recovered several potions, of various strengths of healing and [I]gaseous form[/I]. The way back through the treasure trove was uneventful, and the group eventually caught back up with Old Clem and Ezekiel Featherquill, who they found gagged and bound back-to-back at their encampment, with Fang in a state of magical slumber beside them. Among the group's horses were two others they didn't recognize; after freeing their compatriots (and waking up Fang) the adventurers were told the two had been attacked and overpowered by Kazmira and Gareth, who were pleased to see that the Guild had sent Wing Three to search out the short sword [I]Belladonna[/I]. At first it seemed odd that the two thieves hadn't brought along any camping gear, but this was easily explained by a quick perusal of the saddlebags of one of their horses - inside was the [I]Daern's dollhouse[/I] that Kazmira and Gareth had used in their safehouse, immediately before Balama's magical summons teleported away most of those who had been fighting them. [I]All in all, not a bad haul[/I], thought Rale, as the group mounted up and headed back the way they had come. - - - This was a fun adventure to run. Jacob was in full panic mode up on the stone bridge fighting the stirge swarms; I think Slayer dropped down to a 2 Constitution before Vicki and Dan figured out the puzzle door, and he was sweating bullets, sure that his barbarian was going to die. I had found some plastic dinosaur skeletons at a local party favor shop that were pretty spot-on scalewise for use with D&D, and had picked up a bunch for less than a buck each; this seemed like a good opportunity to use them, so I added them in when I wrote the adventure. The orb construct serpent used a template from a "Template Troves" gaming accessory I had written that was to have been published by Silverthorne Games, only the company decided to get out of the business once 4E came about and it never materialized. The group had kind of expected to meet up with Kazmira and Gareth again, but hadn't really expected that this would be the adventure where they got to take care of them for good. Dascombe Quickblade's [I]Belladonna[/I] had originally been a [I]+4 short sword of speed[/I], and had been broken during the fight in which Dascombe and his allies had first captured his vampiric daughter. The Guild weaponsmiths told Rale they could attempt to reforge it into either a [I]+3 short sword[/I] or a [I]+1 short sword of speed[/I]; Rale had them attempt the latter, and they were successful. And as for the [I]Daern's dollhouse[/I], I made up a scale map out of posterboard, and that's been one of the most-used magic items the group has ever had. Feron keeps it in her backpack, and whoever's adventuring with her generally uses it to sleep in when out in the field. It has four bedrooms, a kitchen, and even a stables; the trickiest bit is finding a good place to put it when they camp out for the night where it won't be easily discovered. [/QUOTE]
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