Barrow of the Forgotten Story Hour - Complete! 8/13/08


First Post
SS Minnow

On behalf of our 3 hour tour, I am dubbing our new watercraft the SS Minnow, and the two hookers I pick up at the inn Ginger and Maryanne

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First Post
glad to see another post! MORE!:D

the reason i ask about info on the characters is I'm trying to get my rusty artistic skills "oiled up" & I might give drawing some of the pcs a try;)


Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
A tale of a fateful trip,
That started from this stony port,
Aboard this tiny ship.

The mate was a mighty sorcerer,
The cleric brave and sure.
Four passengers set sail that day,
For a three hour tour, a three hour tour.

The Sunless Sea was cold and dark,
The tiny ship it crossed,
If not for the courage of the fearless crew,
The mushrooms would be lost, the mushrooms would be lost.

The boat set ground on the shore of this soggy mushroom isle,
With Bootsy, The Cleric too, the Paladin with his knife,
The Sexy Rogue, the Incarnate and the Barbarian,
Here on Rikaryon’s Isle.

Sorry. There is another post coming to finish session 8. Probably tomorrow.


The Dusklorn Matron

“The disruption following Pedestal’s fall lasts even unto this hour, though I must admit the vacuum provided by the fleeing Drow has been to my advantage. Consider, though, that the reason this city did and does not completely collapse into chaos is due to my efforts. Nearly everyone here appreciates my influence. But gratitude doesn’t last, and others seek to displace me.”

Es Sarch’s voice fell to a whisper. “The Assassins’ Guild has decided to seek an alliance with house Dusklorn. If my agents were to disrupt this burgeoning accord, I fear I’d do more to cement the relationship than diffuse it. I ask you to eliminate or drive off Elessarwa Nledoor, matron of the house and a psychotic to boot. I have knowledge of a hidden route into her secret torture chamber, where she slinks away from her duties to the Dusklorn to apply her savage arts to hapless victims she takes from Pedestal’s alleys. I have arranged matters so the Dusklorn will believe her death to be the work of the duplicitous Assassins’ Guild. That will be the end of that.”

This time it was Tristan who stepped forward, “You say we can try to convince her to leave?”

Es Sarch’s faint hissing laugh lasted only a short time. “Yes Paladin, if you can convince her to leave and never return, that would be acceptable. I expect you will find her evil through and through and you will be left with no alternative but to kill her in self defense if you do not act first.”

After a brief consultation amongst themselves, they agreed to the task.

“Good,” said Es Sarch as he reached into one of the voluminous sleeves of his robe and produced a folded parchment. “This will get you where you need to be without taking on the whole of House Dusklorn which would only lead to certain death.”

Bootsy accepted the paper and unfolded it.

Find the old tannery on Matron Road near the wall that encircles Nobles Bluff. The skin shop’s ghastly smell yet lingers in the area. Inside, on the southern wall, find a green stain in the shape of a three fingered hand. That stain marks the location of a hidden trap door that opens to a passage under the building. Follow this tunnel to its highest point. You’ll come to a doorway of a chamber used by Elessarwa for her arts.

“Right. Let’s get ready.”


They could smell the old tannery before they could see it. As they got closer they could smell the faint odor of the urine and feces used in the tanning process. The stomach turning odor got worse as they neared a run-down, single story structure of limestone and granite. There was a wide open doorway in the middle of the wall. As they entered, the stench became almost overpowering. Yellow-green luminescence clung to every surface, outlining dozens of clay vats that cover large portions of the floor. Dilapidated tables along the walls were stained with the outlines of stretched hides, some humanoid in shape. On the southern wall was a glowing green stain in the shape of a three fingered hand. Sitting beneath the stain, it’s back supported by the wall, was a humanoid figure whose identity was lost in filthy rags.

The companions all looked to the paladin. What they saw was a rather surprised look and a shake of his head indicating he detected no evil. Tristan stepped forward, “Excuse me…”

The figure looked up, seemingly startled by the break in the silence of the room. Beneath the cowl they could make out the features of a Drow Elf, but his eyes blazed with intensity and his expression led the companions to only one conclusion. This Drow was insane. Before Tristan can continue, he was interrupted by the Drow who leapt to his feet.

“I am Numa, A prophet! I see what will be and I see the end of existence! See there?” He yelled, pointing to the eastern wall of the room where there was nothing more than the mold that covered the whole room. “It punches up from the deep core to the sunburned surface, rising higher and higher, until it is lost in the white mists that shroud the top of the world. What is it? Not alive, not quite. It is a glyph-scribed obelisk wrapped in eternal storm, hollowed and inhabited by slimy creatures whose hunger can never be sated!”

He moved to the middle of the room staring wildly at the wall as if there was something more there to see. The companions saw his pocked flesh and stepped back giving him room to continue his rant.

“It is the city that heralds the end,” Numa continued in a harsh whisper. “A city primeval regurgitated by the earth! Vast creatures of the deeps wing ‘bout it and tentacles slither within. Who lives in the city? Sinful, soft carapaces surround minds that churn with philosophies hostile to all other creatures. Roused from the drowned depths, the fabled city is fable no more!”

Tristan edged forward. “That’s, uh, interesting, but we have some business here we would like to take care of and it would be best if you weren’t here to witness it.”

Numa’s face grew to look almost sad as he shuffled out the door. “I wish the bugs in my hair would comb it.”

Following the directions given by Es Sarch, Shar quickly found the secret trapdoor. Opening it, they found a five foot wide shaft that dropped to a wet sloped tunnel.

The smell of damp earth and stone was a welcome relief from the odor of the tannery above. The passage sloped slightly upward to the north and downward to the south. Ages of dripping water had birthed stalagmites and stalactites that lined the tunnel like teeth and tiny rivulets of water burbled down the passage, off into the darkness.

They followed the ten foot wide ascending tunnel for about three hundred feet before they saw it veer southeast and downward once again.

Bootsy looked to the wall at the center of the arc in the tunnel. “This must be the place,” he whispered.

As they came around the corner they saw motion in the tunnel at the opposite end of the arc as a large abomination skittered forth. From the carapace of a giant spider rose the torso of a Drow female. The creature hissed and started forward.

Frankie charged forward to meet the creature and slashed the Drider across the torso. Angered the creature stepped back and unleashed a spell. A pea sized ball flew across the tunnel and blossomed into a huge ball of fire that engulfed Shar, Wencis and Tristan. All three were left with horrible burns. Shar and Celtir returned fire with arrows but both shots missed their targets. Bootsy cast and a ray of fire struck the creature, burning away some of its flesh. Wencis charged forward and struck the creature with his glowing gauntlets burning her even more. The creature took a step back and fired a Scorching Ray right into Wencis’ chest dropping him for the second time in as many days. Frankie’s axe quickly put an end to the threat.

A quick search revealed the creature carried little but did have a wand among her possessions. Bootsy was unable to contain his excitement. “I can’t identify it, can anyone check to see what it does?”

To everyone’s surprise Celtir stepped forward. “One of my elders was a Mage who showed me some basic concepts in using magical devices.” A few subtle manipulations sent a pea sized ball flying down the corridor where it burst into a ball of fire.

An excited Bootsy grabbed the wand from Celtir's hands. “Great! I’ll see if Es Sarch has someone to identify it when we get back.”

The companions gathered around and a quick search by Shar revealed the secret entrance. As Shar moved to open the door Celtir looked around the tunnel. Something didn’t seem right. “Wait, are we missing someone? There are only five of us here.”

Frankie looked back toward the dead Drider. “Oh :):):):)! Wencis!” Celtir and Tristan ran over to where the incarnate lay bleeding on the floor, partially hidden by the fallen body of the Drider and healed him, placing him back among the conscious.

“Ouch, Tough Fight. Good thing we’re all in this together,” Wencis said as he received some additional healing from the cleric.

Everyone was trying to hide guilty looks until Bootsy broke the silence. “Yeah, we better see if we can find that secret entrance now that you’re feelin’ better. Oh look, there it is,” he said, pointing at the wall without even looking at it.

Moving back to the door Shar checked to see if it was locked. The moment she touched the door there was a loud ringing sound. Finding the door locked and realizing whoever was within may be summoning help, she started to work feverishly at the lock. “It’s too complicated for me to open quickly.”

A quick shove by Frankie, Wencis and Celtir showed the stone door was too sturdy for them to break through. Left with little choice, Shar tried again with her tools. Two minutes later, she finally succeeded in unlocking the door. Unsure of what this delay would do to their chances of success, they opened the door, ready for anything.

Dim light beyond revealed iron maidens, racks and other intricate contraptions in alcoves and spaced throughout the room. The northeastern alcove was closed off with bars and two forlorn gray-skinned gnomes stared out from behind them. Near the northern wall stood a stone altar adorned with intricate carvings of a spider that had the head of a female elf. Atop the altar was another gray gnome who whimpered as he struggled feeble against the manacles that held him.

Glaring at the companions from behind the altar were two Drow. One was a striking female with chin-length silver hair and glittering chain armor. The other was a slight, bald male clothed in loose black pants. Both held shiny daggers.

Both groups regarded each other for a moment and then there was a flurry of spell casting. Bootsy was the first to finish and his Scorching Ray struck the female Drow right in the face. Struck dead in an instant, she didn’t even have time to cry out and simply collapsed to the ground. Frankie charged the male and struck him with his axe. If this fazed him in the least, it didn’t show as the Drow cast a sheet of webs over the entire entryway, effectively blocking the entrance. No one was caught within the webs though most were caught outside the room. Tristan was able to make it in and ran around to slash at the male Drow. Frankie's axe quickly finished the job.

As Bootsy burned away the webs, Tristan and Frankie set about releasing the poor gnomes from their captivity.

Gathering what equipment they could use, Celtir cast Detect Magic and a surprising amount of it was magic, including a wicked looking dagger. “Looks like we’ll have a lot to Identify once we get back. I hope Es Sarch has a reliable person, uh, creature or whatever on staff.”


The following morning the companions reconvened in the common room. Es Sarch had indeed found a spellcaster to Identify all their new equipment for five hundred and fifty gold coins.

They gathered around Es Sarch to hear what he had discovered. “You have more than my gratitude for completing the tasks I set you; I also have answers for you. First, I have discovered that Fadheela lairs in the Necromancers Spike, as unlikely a haven as I could have imagined. But our fair Fadheela possesses resources that extend beyond Pedestal. She found a way to bypass the zone of decay that surrounds the column’s entry. And now I know that way too.

“To enter the Necromancer’s Spike, one of you must carry this token,” Es Sarch held up an obsidian ring on which a skull was inscribed. Tristan stepped forward to accept it as Es Sarch continued. “It will save you from destructive magic protecting the first room within. Take care, however, for the ring suppresses the deathly effects for only a minute or so.

“Unfortunately, undead decay in that chamber even if they carry the ring, so I have been unable to learn anything else of the Vanguard of Sertrous other than that the groups arrival is recent here in the Great Grotto. I suspect this mysterious faction has found a convenient entry point into the Underdark somewhere within the Necromancer’s Spike. Fadheela, as an associate of the Assassins’ Guild in Pedestal, is a perfect agent.

“House Dusklorn has claimed the Spike. You’ll face soldiers at its entryway but not within. Unlike you and ostensibly, this Fadheela, they have no way to get past the magic that protects the first room.

“If you gain entry and survive, I hope you return and tell me what you learn. I can make it worth your while.”

Bootsy smiled, “Oh, we’ll be back, you can be sure of that.”

End of Session 8.
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Session Notes.

Once again Celtir amazes us with actual Diplomacy. Not to mention the real surprise. He actually burned 6 skill points to have 3 ranks in Use Magic Device. Whoda thunk. Then rolled a natural 20 on the UMD check for a whopping 27.

I think Bootsy has a new favorite spell now that he knows he can crit with a ray. Critting the Dusklorn Matron not only disrupted the reinforcements she was summoning but ended her evil life as well.

Wencis, well what can I say. The Incarnate is a collection of abilities none of us understand. The words, “You’re doing what know?”, “How the hell can you do that?” and “What the hell was that?” seem to be heard a lot when it’s his turn. If I didn’t trust the players, I might think he was pulling this stuff out of his ass.

Tristan has real potential to become a Blackguard at some point although he’s more likely to become a featless fighter. Last campaign he was a CN rogue, a character that suits his playing style. He’s trying this because he doesn’t want to be typecast. So far so good.

Frankie the sturdy dwarven Barbarian is probably the smartest barbarian that ever lived. Always there to lend a great axe when needed. If only we could get his AC out of the mid teens.

And our special guest star as Shar the rogue. Tristan’s new girlfriend wanted to experience Geeks in their natural habitat, so of course we tortured her by making her actually roll a few dice. I don’t expect she’ll be back. Hopefully she will let Tristan’s player return.
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mundinironhand said:
after playing characters that are very obscure, a binder, sword sage, and incarnate i thi9nk my next character will be just a plain gnomish thief

Yeah, right. That would be like Seth playing a Paladin. Oh, wait...

As for the possibility of artwork from NarlethDrider, that would be very cool. The players I've spoken to have expressed interest. We'll see what they post. If you want a place to start, I know our Dwarven Barbarian (mithril chain shirt large great axe (Just took Monkeygrip)) isn't online. Anything you come up with would be great. I'd print it and bring it to our game for him.

High Cleric

First Post
Celtir's descrip - black haired elf, with a chain shirt and bow. Probably looks a little stern, tho not too uptight (I hope!). Holy Symbol of Sollonor (a silver arrow?), hangs around his neck.

High Cleric

First Post
mundinironhand said:
after playing characters that are very obscure, a binder, sword sage, and incarnate i thi9nk my next character will be just a plain gnomish thief

But that would mean you have to use one of the Core books for your PC! OMG! :)


High Cleric said:
Celtir's descrip - black haired elf, with a chain shirt and bow. Probably looks a little stern, tho not too uptight (I hope!). Holy Symbol of Sollonor (a silver arrow?), hangs around his neck.

I thought his holy symbol was mounted on part of his bow? (Celtir's Backstory)


First Post

Bootsy was modelled on a crazy leprechaun sorceror. dark red hair and beard, the kind of mustache you could twirl in your fingers while cackling maniacally. So although he's gnomish, think more lucky charms, except instead of wearing green he's rockin' out in khakis and a bandolier full of stuff to throw. Definitely a stupid hat, and obnoxious boots. the crossbow was incidental he rolled up with enough oomph to be good with the thing and my proficiency to roll crits against other DMs is staggering.



I am sorry to announce to both our readers that we have had a delay of game due to real life issues so there will be no update this week. Three people out of 6 called out for no good reason. One said something about a new baby and another had a term paper. I hope they get their priorities sorted out.

Seriously though, congratulations to Frankie’s player on the birth of his new son. ( I haven’t heard the name yet, this is his 2nd child I believe).

I hope to see all these slackers at the next game scheduled for Wednesday the 30th. An update will follow soon after.


Bootsy – 5th/1st Level Gnome Sorcerer/Fighter.
Celtir – 6th Level Elven Cleric.
Frankie – 6th Level Dwarven Barbarian.
Tristan – 5th Level Human Paladin.
Wencis – 5th Level Aasimar Incarnate.

As the companions came back downstairs from preparing spells and equipment for the trip to the Necromancers Spike, they saw a familiar face sitting at one of the tables. Bruthwol Coalhauler smiled as he spread his arms in greeting.

“Greetings, friends! You made it safely, I see. Have you had any success finding what you seek? If there is anything you need to buy or sell, I’m sure I could be of assistance. With the resources of the Bazaar at my disposal, I could find many things that you might find useful. There would be a ‘finder’s fee’ of course,” he adds with a wink. “If there is anything I can help you with, you have but to ask and I’ll do what I can. Please join me if you will, you can tell me of your experiences in Pedestal.”

Thinking of things they may need or want for their expedition to the Necromancers Spike they accepted Bruthwol’s invitation and seated themselves around his table.

Into the Spike

Their business with Bruthwol completed, the companions left the Inn and headed east down Matron Row to where the unblocked East Gate allowed entrance to the Noble Quarter. Passing through the gate the ruined towering mansions were revealed. Most were decaying and covered with opportunistic fungi.

Traveling just a block through the ruined quarter they came upon the massive column of unbelievable size that was the Necromancer’s Spike – the heart of the city, its highest point. Looking up, the companions saw light glimmering all around the curving sides of the towering natural formation, as if from hundreds of tiny windows. As they approached the entrance at the base of the column, they could see the tiny patches of light were clearly discrete patches of luminescent fungi.

As the companions approached the entryway, Tristan checked to make sure the obsidian ring was in place on one of his fingers. “Remember, I should enter first. The magic that wards the entrance may not be obvious.”

Thick stone doors that must have once secured the entry lay in piles of gravel and small boulders all around the entrance. As they approached, a bulky male Drow in a shining breastplate stepped out from behind a pillar. He glared at the companions and waved his serrated scimitar, his shield at the ready.

“Get gone from here, or we’ll use your skins for our cloaks!” He snarled. “House Dusklorn claims the Necromancer’s Spike!”

Deeper in the tunnel, they saw another Drow covering them with an ornate longbow.

The companions stopped, unsure of how to proceed. As Celtir tried to think of what approach to use diplomatically, Bootsy stepped behind some rubble and cast two spells in quick succession. The first rendered him invisible, the second created a strong electrical charge on his hands.

Moving as quietly as he could, he snuck up to the first Drow, who had grown even more suspicious of the party. Just as he was about to signal his companion to attack, he heard the sound of the rocks in front of him shifting even as he saw a brief spark discharge on his armor. The spell washed harmlessly over the Drow and he was only mildly surprised to see the gnome standing before him.

Bootsy quickly backpedaled to put some distance between him and the Drow, drawing his trusty crossbow as he went. The Drow slashed him with his scimitar as he retreated causing a minor wound. At first Bootsy was unconcerned as he brought his crossbow up for the shot, but then noticed that he suddenly felt drowsy and understood that the enemy’s weapons must be poisoned. He shrugged off the feeling and fired his crossbow, his bolt creasing the Drow’s cheek. The remaining companions surged forward to attack and the first Drow was quickly cut down. The Second fired his bow, piercing Tristan’s leg. Wincing at the pain and shaking his head to clear his mind from the sluggishness that followed, Tristan charged forward and slashed the Drow with Merthuvial. His companions crowded into the narrow entryway to assist where they could and the second Drow only managed to attack Tristan once more before he was dropped in a flurry of blades and arrows.

The companions made a quick search of the bodies and the surrounding area but found little beyond the Drow’s equipment.

Looking deeper into the tunnel, they saw a green haze filled the next chamber, giving it a strangely aquatic look. The floor was tiled with slabs the color of bone and the walls were crowded with what appeared to be hundreds of vault doors, each bearing the crude likeness of a humanoid. Drifts of gray dust were mounded here and there, but were piled thickly in each corner. A chill radiated from the chamber that cut right through the companion’s cloaks and seemed to portend death.

Tristan gave a wry smile, “Then again, the warded room may be rather obvious. We should decide on a course of action before we enter. Es Sarch warned us that the protection offered by the ring only lasts a short time each day.”

Examining the room without entering, the companions noticed only two exits, one on either of the side walls. Following a brief discussion it was decided to go left. While making sure all was ready for their advance, Bootsy Slumped to the floor. Used to Bootsy’s antics the companions waited for a moment to see what he might do. When he made no move to rise, Wencis bent over to check on him. “He’s out. He must have finally succumbed to the Drow poison. He’ll wake eventually, but it may be a few hours.”

Another brief discussion and it was decided they should rest once they were beyond the warded room. Double checking everything once again, Frankie lifted the gnome up onto his shoulders and they gathered at the entryway.

Moving quickly through the room the companions opened the northern door and crowded through into a narrow hall that offered a number of choices. Four doors were equally spaced down the length of the northern wall and, counting the door they had entered through, two doors stood at either end of the southern wall.

As Frankie set Bootsy down, Wencis moved to the first of the four doors and opened it while Celtir opened the second. Beyond each door was a small room, its walls lined with shelves, nooks and pedestals upon which rested the dusty relics of a life spent in the study of magic and death. The first held preserved body parts of rare beasts. The second held what may have been exhausted magic items, dusty wands and staves now nothing more than sticks. Celtir smiled, “It’s a good thing Bootsy is already out, the sense of frustration at seeing so many expended magic items would probably send him right over the edge.”

Making sure Bootsy would be in the first room, the companions split into two groups to rest in the two rooms. Most of the time was uneventful, though in the first hour the companions heard distant screams and cries that seemed to come from further in the Spike. In the fourth hour, mere minutes before Bootsy finally awoke, Tristan felt a strange sensation that he could not describe, though the feeling was fleeting and seemed to have no lasting effect on him.

When Bootsy finally awoke he seemed back to his normal self, though he was a little grumpy at what he felt was a display of weakness in front of his companions. The companions quickly ushered him past the second door and down toward the end of the hall. The third door revealed a similar room with various religious icons and paraphernalia spread throughout the room. Always interested in displays of religion, Celtir entered and gathered a few of the relics noting they seemed to cover most of the common religions of the world and even a few that were uncommon.

Wencis opened the fourth door and saw cobwebbed niches filled with dusty skulls and bones of humanoid creatures. Before he could take more than one step into the room, the door made a sound as if it were opening once again, even though the already open door did not budge. The translucent shade of a gaunt male Drow seemed to step right through Wencis and into the room, his black staff clicking against the floor as he entered. As Wencis watched, the shade removed a cloak and hung it on the wall near the door, and then he abruptly cocked his head and looked upwards, mouthing words silently and looking angry. The figure turned and rushed from the room, disappearing near the doorway. Wencis noticed the cloak still hung near the door.

He entered the room and cautiously lifted the cloak from its peg. He turned to Bootsy, “Is this magical?”

Bootsy murmured a quick incantation and then gazed at the cloak, “Yep.” He then cast his gaze around the rest of the room, making sure to include the ceiling in his scrutiny, but saw nothing of interest. “But nothing else is,” he said, shaking his head as he left the room.

Seeing no other options, the companions turned to the door on the opposite wall. Soft illumination from a candelabrum full of black candles that sat in the center of a huge stone table lit the chamber beyond the door. Ten ironwork chairs, the most elaborate of which was at the head of the table to the north, surrounded the slab. All the places were set. Dust and cobwebs covered the whole scene.

A quick examination revealed nothing of value and showed the candle flame was magical in nature. Noting the double doors on the southern wall of the room, the companions chose to go through a single door in the western wall.

Covered in cobwebs and dust, this small room was empty except for rows of blanket covered beds.

“Guess we should have explored a little further when we were looking for a place to rest,” Wencis laughed. A quick search uncovered nothing else of interest.

Returning to the dining room, the companions opened the double doors into another hall that continued south where it appeared to open into a room to the east. The corridor also went to the west where there appeared to be a number of doors on either side of the corridor.

Following the corridor to the south, the companions found it opened into what appeared to be a small kitchen. A stone counter lined the southern wall and a leering gargoyles head looked downward, mouth open, into a black sink at the counter’s end to the east. Worn smooth in places, a long stone table occupied the center of the room. Above it hung a web of wrought iron, upon which dangled iron pots and utensils. Two huge fireplaces, each furnished with iron wire shelves and rods to set or suspend pots on, were set into the walls – one to the east and the other in an alcove to the north. Soot and ash were still piled in their bottoms. A pantry loomed in the northwest corner, its shelves still held a few shiny dishes, possibly of gold or brass. Unlike the musty areas they had explored so far, this room smelled vaguely of death.

Bootsy, finding the idea of exploring a kitchen rather boring, started to wander back down toward the western hall to inspect one of the more interesting doors. Celtir and Wencis entered the kitchen to see what they could find, while Tristan and Frankie stayed in the hall, waiting for the first sign of trouble. They didn’t have long to wait. Celtir turned to examine the stone counter and sink as Wencis went to the table in the center of the room. Before he could touch anything, he noticed five tiny, vaguely humanoid accumulations of ash, bone and teeth dart from the fireplaces. Their leg-like appendages made a repulsive pattering sound as they surged toward Celtir and Wencis with alarming speed. Sooty dust they had stirred up lent a bitter tang to the air.

Wencis lashed out with his hammer wounding one as the three of tiny creatures crawled right up to him and bit at his legs. Holding his bow, Celtir was unable to get a bearing on the two that attacked him. Frankie and Tristan ran to help, each killing one of the horrid creatures that crawled on either of their companions. Hearing the sounds of combat, Bootsy ran back down the hall to see what was going on. With the full force of the companions weapons and magic brought to bear on the tiny creatures they were quickly killed, but not before Wencis and Celtir were both bitten by the tiny undead.

As Wencis went to examine the pantry, Celtir showed Tristan his leg where the creature had bitten him, “Does this look infected to you?” Tristan just shrugged then they both looked about as the stench of rot suddenly grew stronger in the room.

With a low moan, the pantry shelves sprouted lashing pseudopods tipped with terrible claws. A gnashing maw filled with yellow fangs and viscous saliva appeared between the grasping arms. One of the arms struck Wencis, who found himself stuck to the disgusting creature by some slimy adhesive.

Bootsy had once again started to wander to the far end of the hall. To get his attention Celtir let out a yell, “Mimic!”

Wencis quickly corrected him, “Undead Mimic!”

The companions converged on the creature as it started to crush Wencis in its grasp. Wencis reached out with his soul energy gauntlets, burning at the creatures flesh as the weapons of his companions sliced into the creature, the adhesive threatening to pull the weapons from their hands. Once again it was Frankie’s greataxe that finished their foe. As the creature died, Wencis was finally able to pull himself free of the creature as the adhesive seemed to break down.

Having encountered so much trouble in such a small room, the companions were hesitant to continue their search. They finally got up the nerve and finished the search uneventfully. They found nothing more than pots, pans and utensils.

While the others were examining the kitchen Bootsy had finally made it to the two doors at the far end of the western hall. One he was certain opened into the warded room so he opened the other. A wave of cold washed over him and his breath turned to steam as the door opened. Shelves all along the walls held limbless bodies – turned blue-white but preserved by the cold – with their heads still attached.

Tristan came up to look just as Bootsy was finishing his examination. He frowned in disgust and anger at what he saw, “What in the name of all that is holy is this Place? Who would commit such an atrocity? I would destroy all that is here if I didn’t think it would be even more disrespectful to the bodies of these poor souls!” He knelt with Merthuvial before him and murmured a prayer for the souls of the dead and then he quickly stood, turned and left the room without looking back.

Bootsy joined them in the middle of the hall where there was a door to the south. “Well, this is the only door on this level we haven’t tried.”

Wencis opened the door. The large chamber curved outward at the south end. Within that curve were gradual stairs that lead to an altar of black stone. The statue of a spider the size of a big bear, seemingly pieced together from bones and fangs, stood astride the altar. From the altar a gossamer carpet of webs stretched down the stairs and fifteen feet into the room, enshrouded a pedestal in the middle of the room.

Bootsy pulled out one of his wands and grinned, “This looks like a job for… Fireball!” A small bead the size of a pea flew from the end of the wand and blossomed into a ball of fire that covered most of the chamber, burning away the webs while leaving the stonework unharmed. After waiting a bit to let some of the smoke from the burning webs clear, the companions entered.

Tristan stepped up to what was now revealed to be a large font set atop a low pedestal. “Water. I wonder what would happen if I drank some?”

Celtir quickly stepped forward, “Don’t. It’s probably unholy water which, if you’re lucky, will just make you sick.” With that he bent down and pushed the font over, sending the dark water splashing across the floor where it seeped away between the stones of the floor.

Before he could even stand up straight, a volley of spikes launched from the bone spider, striking Celtir in the shoulder. There was a prolonged crack and a sinister series of clicks as the monstrous bone statue atop the altar suddenly rose up and stood on splayed legs. Mandibles formed of huge fangs clicked together as the horror lurched to life.

Wencis was first to act, launching his hammer at the creature and sending his Soul Spark forward to attack. His hammer knocked chips of bone from the creature and the energy burst from the Soul Spark burned the creature. The construct bit the Soul Spark, tearing at the energy that formed it. As it did this there was a terrible scuttling noise as shiny black spiders that had fiery eyes began to pour from between the seams in the bone spider’s construction. They arranged themselves into a mass of legs and fangs that started to churn toward the companions.

Bootsy shouted, “I got ‘em!” And a fan of fire from his outstretched hands turned the swarm of spiders to ash. The edge of the fire had washed over the bone spider but it seemed unscathed.

Frankie and Tristan ran up to the bone spider and their weapons knocked away more bone chips as Celtir cast a spell that sent a burst of positive energy into the creature. The spider lashed out at Frankie, sinking its fangs deep into his leg.

The companions struck back, Bootsy and Celtir, having seen how ineffective their magic had been, switched to their bows and Wencis continued to launch his hammer at the creature as his Soul Spark fired bursts of energy that seemed to do little damage to the construct.

Frankie and Tristan held the line, their blades slashing at the creature as it attacked over and over, leaving both of them covered in their own blood. They were a little irritated when Bootsy switched to vials of acid when he saw his bolts glancing off without even leaving a mark on the creature. Then they were amazed to find some of their wounds healed when Celtir raised his holy symbol while calling upon Solonor and a burst of positive energy filled the chamber.

Finally Tristan struck a telling blow. Merthuvial split the seam that made up the head of the creature and the spider seemed to wobble then stop for a moment. It dropped as its animating force seemed to falter and there was a cracking sound. Suddenly the creature literally blew apart, sending sharp fragments of bone throughout the room, wounding all of the companions.

Bootsy looked around the room and saw the effects of the blast on his companions. He turned to Celtir, “Can you do that holy thing again?”

Celtir smiled and raised his holy symbol once again.


Onward and Upward

Wencis shook his head, “I don’t know. We’ve searched this whole place at least twice.”

“We’ll just have to keep looking,” Celtir answered as he inspected the walls of the kitchen once more. “There has to be more to this place then what we have seen.”

Having run out of obvious doors to open, the companions had to resort to searching for secret doors throughout most of the level once again. Finally, from the northern hall they heard a shout from Bootsy, “Found it!”

Bootsy was standing at the very end of the northern hall running his hands over the wall looking for a catch to open the secret door he suspected was before him. Just as the last of the companions arrived, he finally found it. Pushing in a small stone the door slid open. Beyond was a short hall that opened up to a small ten foot square room with a spiral staircase in the middle. Bootsy smiled and waved the others through, “Up we go!”

The stairway ended in another square chamber that was slightly larger than the one below. In addition to the spiral stair down, there we two other staircases that ascended the western side of the room, one attached to the southern wall the other attached to the northern wall. At the top of each stairway was a stone door with a heavy iron bar across it.

Frankie and Tristan went up the northern stair while Celtir and Wencis went up the southern. Bootsy waited at the foot of the southern stairs. Celtir and Frankie looked at one another and with an unspoken agreement both lifted the bars and opened the doors at the same time. Both doors opened into the same room.

The stench of death poured through the doors, which opened into a massive chamber. A wide elevated walkway led west through the room, a deep yawning pit on either side. Heaps of bodies and body parts formed an obscene landscape at the bottom of the northern pit. Some were jerking spasmodically and moaning. The southern pit was full of skeletons and bones, some of which were rattling and twitching. A pair of smaller catwalks ran around the room’s perimeter, but these were cut out of the walls, not supported by the floor like the central walkway was. A figure stood motionless in the middle of the central walkway.

A low groan sounded from the creature on the central walkway as it lurched around to face the companions. It appeared to be made from an assortment of Drow body parts, stitched and fastened together into an eight foot tall mockery of life.

The companions charged. Wencis was first to attack once again and once again sent his Soul Spark to close with the massive creature while he launched his hammer from a distance. Frankie and Tristan charged up to the creature, both of their blades bit deep though the Golem hardly seemed to notice. The angry creature pushed Frankie knocking him back and into the northern pit. Though his landing was softened by the body parts he landed on, he was disturbed to find the twitching limbs grasping at him and trying to pull him beneath the layers of body parts. He was even more disturbed to see a swarm of undead rats moving through the pit in his direction. He was saved from what may have been a horrible fate by a Fireball from Booty’s wand that decimated the rat swarm and stilled many of the twitching body parts. Celtir cast a spell, once again sending a small burst of positive energy against the enemy. The Flesh Golem was unimpressed.

Breaking free from the grasping hands, Frankie threw himself up the wall and scurried to the top as the others continued to attack the creatures with weapons. Bootsy launched a Scorching Ray at the creature. It didn’t seem to burn the creature, but he did notice that the Golem seemed to move more slowly.

Frankie ran up to rejoin Tristan at the front line and both sank their blades into the creature once again. Even though it was slowed the large creature still dealt out punishing blows with its fists and soon both the front line fighters and the Soul Spark had suffered grievous wounds. Running out of ideas, Bootsy ran around the creature, taking a hit as he did so and struck at it with his mace. Celtir came up behind Tristan and Frankie and released a burst of positive energy, healing some of the wounds on his companions so that they might hold the line.

With his support, the companions slowly whittled away at the creature that seemed able to absorb an incredible amount of punishment. Finally the creature dropped, even as Bootsy noticed a swarm of skeletal rats coming up to the wall of the southern pit. He quickly sent a Fireball down into the pit to destroy the swarm.

Moving to the far side of the walkway they found two doorways apparently barred from the other side as the others had been. As Frankie and Celtir struck at the door to smash it apart, Tristan looked around and noticed that almost all the companions still suffered from wounds from all they had come up against so far in the Spike. He raised his holy symbol and called out to his god, releasing a burst of positive energy that healed his companions. Seeing they were all still wounded he raised his holy symbol once again.

For the next thirty seconds, the walls of the charnel pits were lit over and over again by the strobe-like effects of the paladin’s prayers.

End of Session 9


Session Notes.

Chaos. Yes, Chaos. It would appear we are a chaotic crowd.

The author of the mod made some rather… unfortunate word choices, which when combined with a graphical representation of the Necromancers Spike and our groups tendency toward puerile humor, made it extremely difficult to get through any boxed text without eliciting howls of laughter. Gaping cavity indeed…

We actually covered more ground than I expected, we had a late start and had trouble staying focused (“Stop having so much fun and get serious!” :D ) but luckily we were still able to keep things moving.

I think it was rather a frustrating night for Bootsy (the character more then the player), between blowing a caster level check on the Drow, Failing his secondary save vs poison and then the two big encounters were immune to most of his spells. Luckily this sorcerer doesn’t actually stand there and do nothing (or worse, sulk) when presented with these conditions.

I think I like the positive energy burst, the Paladin was thrilled when he heard the change and went into strobe light mode at the end of the game. Allowing the cleric to use his spells for something other than healing and allowing for the Paladin to have more healing than Lay on Hands helped them progress through the Spike as quickly as they have.

All in all a fun (but crazy) session. Come to think of it that describes pretty much every session.

Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition Starter Box

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