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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Nebulous" data-source="post: 4592818" data-attributes="member: 31465">Adventure #7: Lord of the Maw & Boss of the FatPART TWOSoon, they see the front gates of the cemetary.  <img src="http://www.zikadik.com/shadowfell/cem.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />The fence is wrought iron, spiked on the top, but the front gate hangs ajar, torn from the hinges.  Stepping closer, they see movement on the path within and hear slavering, slurping and the crack of wet bones.  <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/keep/cem2.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Helga, Brandis and Kerric are at the forefront, the squishier spellcaster holding the rear.  Helga steps through the gate, axe brandished, and sees a undead creature rummaging through the guts of Corby the Regular.  <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/keep/cem3.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /><img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/keep/deadcorby.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Erevan casts a light spell, and Kerric shouts, but the zombie does not pay attention until Helga approaches.  It shambles to its feet, blood and entrails drooling from its mouth, and moves toward the dwarf, who promptly separates its head from its shoulder.  Rotten fluids spurt from the neck hole and the zombie collapses.  But there’s another one in the trees, slowly shambling forward, and the group realizes that there are many, many gravestones in this cemetery.  Erevan slays it with a single magic missile.<img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/keep/cem4.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Kerric pushes inside, tossing a sunrod toward the center of the graveyard.  It sends a welcome blaze of light spreading every direction.  Only areas shielded by granite mausoleums remain in total darkness.  Wolftooth in hand, Brandis Padraig approaches the mysterious blue circle of light, scanning for enemies.  At the corner of the mausoleum he hears soft crying, a woman’s lament, and definitely NOT the little girls from the keep, Sir Keegan’s ghostly dead twins.   Peeking around, he’s not entirely surprised to see a dirty-faced Ninaran the Half-Elf crumpled on the ground.<img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/keep/nin.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />“I’m so sorry!” she wails, obviously distraught.  Her face is streaked with tears, her cheeks gaunt and hollow.  She trembles head to foot.  “I made a mistake!” she moans.  “I…a…a mistake…”  Her voice trails off into incoherence. Beside Ninaran is a crumpled piece of paper stained with unknown fluids. He picks it and scans over the letter quickly, disturbed by what it says.  Ninaran, it seems, is Winterhaven’s little spy, and here on orders from Kalarel. Brandis clearly sees a large circle on the ground inscribed with runes, but the magic is well beyond his comprehending.  More disturbing is the shallow grave in the middle……and the hand rising out of it. Soon followed by the stiff, lurching motions of a familiar elf who has just recently died.Ash. <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/keep/cem6.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Dirt falls away from Ash’s pale, emaciated face, already crawling with maggots.  Ninaran’s clumsy attempt to bring him back has only made the elf a mockery of who he once was, and Ninaran seems acutely aware of her mistake.  And perhaps many of her other mistakes.Ash stumbles toward Brandis, hands outstretched to attack, but the warlord beheads the ex-rogue in one quick strike with Wolftooth, and his one-time companion is sent to eternal rest.   That leaves Ninaran blubbering in the corner though, and she could still be a threat.  After all, she allied herself with Kalarel, a power-mad priest of Orcus, and has already caused untold damage.  There’s more to learn from her, but for now Ninaran is bound and tied so that she cannot harm anyone. She does not resist and slumps to the ground, shell-shocked and incoherent in her grief.  There’s some discussion about what to do with her, fearing that something could easily kill Ninaran and prevent them from questioning her later. But all is not quiet in the graveyard.  More and more graves are becoming disturbed; dirt froths and spits forth; hands and heads begin to rise from multiple directions, and a low, moaning ululation sweeps across the cemetery, growing in severity.  Helga charges the north quadrant, positioning herself over newly rising corpses and decapitates them.  Irann the warlock teleports to the top of the nearest cairn, while Kerric and Erevan take a closer look at the mysterious blue runes.  It is obviously some sort of dark magic reanimating the bodies, but neither understands the dweomer enough to influence it.  It is, perhaps, too late already.  The damage has been done. Kerric the Paladin tentatively approaches the largest mausoleum in the cemetery, one with two green copper imps squatting on the lintel. The gate has been torn apart and he hears moans inside.  Erevan tosses a light spell directly into the entrance.  Kerric, Brandis and Helga position themselves at the front.  There is movement inside, and then Kerric hears a distinct chuckle!Not good.Something intelligent is in there, something obviously taking pleasure in what is about to happen.  Zombies start lurching out, but everyone’s readied actions hack them to pieces. Bodies litter the entrance, but then a new foe swings around the corner, its face a horribly mangled visage of terror:<img src="http://www.zikadik.com/shadowfell/mawpic.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Helga and Brandis are overcome by unnatural terror, compelled to flee from Lord Maw on their next turn, but Kerric steels his nerves against the unnatural effect.“You shall not leave here, creature of undeath!” the paladin shouts.  This is Kerric’s passion in life, to eradicate the undead and thereby serve his god Kelemvor, and this creature before him, some sort of revenant, is an unholy blight upon the world, and Kerric risks life and limb to destroy it. <img src="http://www.zikadik.com/shadowfell/cem7.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />The revenant (an inquisitor actually) answers with a gravelly laugh and lashes out with his whip, even as more zombies trundle out from the hidden chamber.  “Tear them to pieces!” the inquisitor shouts, and the zombies all get free attacks. Kerric charges him, his longsword glowing brilliantly with holy radiance, and slams into Maw’s shoulder.  <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/keep/cem8.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />But seconds before impact, a globe of gloom surrounds the inquisitor, partially drinking the sword’s radiance and reducing damage.  Their eyes meet, and the inquisitor’s soulless gaze nearly paralyzes Kerric, but he resists again. Unperturbed, the paladin of Kelemvor continues his attack, determined to wipe the grin from the thing’s face, but from nowhere a huge, shadowy hand appears, wraps around Kerric’s torso, and bodily FLINGS him from the mausoleum! <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/keep/cem9.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Helga and Brandis have already retreated, unwilling to even look at Lord Maw, but they discover a new wave of zombies rising from the western side of the cemetery.  A LOT of zombies. Half the graveyard has vomited forth its progeny, and these shambling things are all headed toward the fight.  Furthermore, more foes sweep around the corner from a hidden exit on the south side of the mausoleum. <img src="http://www.zikadik.com/shadowfell/cem10.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Erevan rains down eldritch fire, and Irann showers down purple curses and blasts, obliterating handfuls of the undead as they surge toward easier targets on the ground.  Within seconds a large group has clustered around Helga and Brandis, and from within the mausoleum Lord Maw shrieks:  “TEAR THEM TO PIECES! NOW!”  Claws rake across armor and flesh, but the warriors retaliate, butchering the zombies into messy gobs. <img src="http://www.zikadik.com/shadowfell/cem11.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /></blockquote>

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