Pillars of Hercules
First Post
Onward, Manticore Killers!
Still reading as always, Nemm... great stuff!
Still reading as always, Nemm... great stuff!
"Out of the Frying Pan"- Book III: Fanning the Embers
- Thread starter el-remmen
- Start date
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Session #40 (part II)
Session #40
Part Two: In which the monolithic entrance to the Necropolis is discovered.
The Fearless Manticore Killers and their dwarven companions fell into a staggered line as they marched, still being led by Ratchis, but Kazrack and Belear followed close behind, with Martin the Green flanked by Helrahd and Kirla. Jeremy came up behind him. Beorth was marching at the rear with Captain Adalar and the three brothers.
They could all feel the fine black dust like miniscule shards of black glass stinging their nostrils and ripping the back of their throats raw. Even in the little moonlight there was, everyone’s hair and clothes seemed to glisten black. They were all covered by a thin layer of the inhospitable stuff.
The tall columns of stone were wreathed in the darkness of the shadows of the others, making a web eerie moonlight that they had to at time walk through.
“You know if I were laying an ambush here I would use illusions to conceal men…or wights,” Martin said, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise. The temperature had dropped considerably and he could see his own breath in the blueness of night.
“I don’t think they have laid an ambush here,” Kazrack said, looking back.
“Unless they hid behind those rocks,” Jeremy said, a little too loudly. Up ahead Ratchis stopped and looked back, and the dwarves all looked at the blonde human then at each other, and suddenly the sound of their boots crunching in the ash was punctuated with grumblings. Ratchis scowled and continued.
Jeremy seemed to take no notice of any of it.
“Unless they were using mundane means of concealment,” Kazrack whispered by way of some form of explanation for his comment, wanting to get the last word in.
“Like, what? Hiding behind rocks?” Jeremy said, sarcastically.
Derek chuckled.
“I wonder if this place was made during the Mountain Wars?” Martin mused aloud, changing the subject. (1)
“In a war? You think a war made this?” Jeremy gestured in a round motion with the torch he carried over his head, sending wild shadows over the nearby dwarves.
“Yes, perhaps through some great magic, or perhaps it was the work of Hurgun,’ Martin replied. (2)
“So you think magic made all this,” Jeremy asked again, remaining skeptical.
“I don’t know,” Martin retreated from his assertion his lack of confidence undermining his readily apparent intellectual superiority over Jeremy. His attitude became sharp and defensive, “You can’t say this is exactly a normal place.”
“No kidding,” Derek said softy, smiling. Martin wrinkled his upper lip in anger and slowed his pace to allow Beorth to catch up.
Jeremy looked at Derek and snickered.
They had marched for about three miles, when Ratchis looked up to notice that they had not moved much more than a quarter mile away from the ridge that marked this bizarre land’s edge. They had doubled-back on their tracks in long winding trails. The tall stone columns were scattered in a very disorienting way, especially in the dark. He looked back over the group and could see exhaustion on their faces, even though the dwarves would never admit it. The sudden cold snap, breathing in the ash, the whole day of marching and the battle of the day before all weighed heavily on their shoulders.
“We have to go back,” Ratchis announced. “We are too tired and weak to continue.”
“Heh. Figures,” Blodnoth coughed into his hand.
It was agreed, and making their way back to the edge took relatively no time at all. They had to use ropes to help the dwarves (and Martin) get up the other side of the ridge incline. It was very steep and covered in the ash.
They made camp. Ratchis dug a big fire pit and lined it with some of the ash, but the few scrubby trees that were in the area did not provide much wood, and the group had carried about enough tinder to last another three days.
The half-orc also used the last of his prepared healing spells to help Jeremy and Kazrack with some wounds that still ailed them. He did the same for himself, softly calling to his beloved goddess.
Kazrack and Belear fell to discussing what spells they might prepare in the morn. “Should we not invite D’naar to join us in this discussion?” Kazrack asked the other two dwarven priests.
Captain Adalar scowled, but Belear merely shook his bowed head. “He received blessings from his own god. He can keep his own counsel.”
Kazrack reluctantly agreed, his eyes resting momentarily of his half-breed friend speaking with Beorth about the positioning of the tents. The half-orc’s visage was made more menacing and ugly in the harsh shadows of the fire.
After everyone had eaten, the adventurers began to bed down for the night. There was already a frost covering the ridge they had made camp on, but none could be seen collecting on the ash. Ratchis and Beorth took the first watch along with the three dwarven brothers, who circled the camp very enthusiastically.
This watch went by without event, and Martin awoke for the latter half of it, only needing two hours of sleep a night. (3)
Martin studied his books while he watched with the second shift, Derek, Jeremy, Kirla, Blodnath and Baervard.
In the deadest and darkest part of the night, soon after the moon set there came a sudden and sharp sound from out across the land of the black stone columns. It was a repeated cracking as if pices of wood or something similar was being smashed against each other. Even when the smashing stopped, its echoed carried on for long moments, and when it died there would be a long pause and then it began again.
“What is that?” Jeremy hissed.
“Someone’s making an awful lot of noise,” Derek said sardonically. Martin looked around nervously.
The sound did not seem to come nearer or move further away.
“It does not approach, but should we wake the others?” She looked to Martin, who shrugged his shoulders.
“No,” Blodnath said. “No reason to yet.”
Martin and Jeremy nodded. The sound came again several more times, and then after nearly an hour’s time of on and off again, it stopped and was not heard again.
The sun had not yet risen when Belear awoke for the third watch, telling the others to go to sleep as he awoke Kazrack and Helrahd. Captain Adalar woke of his own volition. Martin sat up and watched with them at all, not having so much as yawned all night.
------------------
Isilem, 9th of Prem, 565 H.E.
When the sun did rise, the camp was already bustling and being broken down. The unusual cold of the night gave way to unusual rise in temperature, and soon all the dwarves were scratching under their beards, where sweat collected. Everyone rolled up their woolen and fur cloaks and strapped them to their packs.
They began by following their own trail back into the labyrinth of columns, but crossing where they could see it deeper in the dead area, as they could now see clearly how they had wandered aimlessly through the ash. Now in the bright light it seemed so clear how to get further into this barren land, but in the darkness of night, the place was much more disorienting.
Disorienting it was still, but Ratchis and Derek soon found the trail of the zombies, which soon re-joined with that of the wight, and they all moved deeper into the maze of spikes and columns. The trail led them in a zigzagging pattern, turning in long curves and then moving in as straight a line as possible. The single wight trail often left the trenches dragged into the ash by the shuffling zombies, but always returned.
The heat began to become unbearable, as the sun seemed to be cruelly pointing out the weary adventurers, as the black ash rose up in great clouds, and infiltrated every nook and cranny of their clothing and equipment. They could feel their lungs and nostrils burning raw from inhaling the stuff.
Derek stopped for a drink of water from his skin. He felt light headed, and it hurt to breath. Jeremy began to cough, and Kazrack and the dwarves were all wheezing. (5) Tears streamed down Ratchis’ face for ash kept blowing into his eyes. A weakness was coming over all of them from the heat and from breathing the ash. Beorth seemed the least affected, but even he gasped at times. Following the boy’s lead, even one stop and began to drink and wipe their faces.
“This is a horrible place,” Martin said.
“It’s likely to get worse before it gets better,” Ratchis said. “Everyone drink up. We have to keep going. I think I can see where the trail is going, and the columns looks different in that direction.”
Helrahd grunted, “You know we are kicking up so much of this stuff that anyone could see us a mile away or more.” As dry as everyone’s mouth was, Helrahd still found some mucus to hack up and spit out into the ash.
“There is nothing we can do about it,” said Kazrack.
They continued to follow Ratchis after their too brief rest, and the trail the undead left behind led to a odd series of columns. Here the columns were tall and tapered to nearly a point, and they were very close together, so much so that some seemed to create a narrower corridor, only fifteen feet at its widest. It was possible to squeeze between these spires, but not with ease as the ash was piled high around them.
“Oh great, the killing zone,” Martin sighed sarcastically, imagining countless foes blocking off either end as they emerged from the shadows of the columns and from underneath the ash.
“Well, I guess we’re going to have to turn back then,” Kazrack said looking at the watch-mage with a smile.
Martin did not return the expression.
“It was a joke friend Martin,” Kazrack said, his face getting serious. “I thought that’d be obvious. It as meant as humor.”
“No fear,” Martin replied, and then added under his breath. “I knew I wasn’t that lucky.”
“We all need to remain extra alert,” Captain Adalar said. Golnar, Jolnar and Tolnar loaded their crossbows.
Kazrack clutched the bag of runes about his neck (4) and spoke out to one of the dwarven gods in his father’s tongue, “Krauchaar, give me strength to defeat our foes, crush their skulls and break their bones!”
The dwarf could feel the strength divinely awarded him surging through his muscles. He deftly swung his halberd over his shoulder. It hardly seemed to weigh a thing anymore.
Ratchis led the way down the corridor of pillars, followed by Kazrack, Belear and Beorth, who were then followed by Derek and Jeremy and Martin. The rest of the dwarves followed behind, with Captain Adalar and the three dwarven brothers taking the rear.
They had walked only a few dozen yards down the curving corridor, when Ratchis notices two of the spires sticking into the path.
There was something hanging on each of them.
The half-orc raised his hand and slowed his pace. Everyone followed suit.
The wind shifted and a foul rotting smell wafted overt them in that instant.
Beorth grimaced with anger when he saw what it was. Martin gasped.
The corpses of two decaying gnolls hung from the columns, their arms twisted back and tied to each other by the wrist with a long stretch of hide that was looped over the spire.
Without a speaking a word, Ratchis climbed up on of the spires and hacked through the hide with a hatchet. The gnoll body slid down in sickeningly snapping pile of bones, cartilage, and withered hide.
“What are you doing?” Kazrack called to Ratchis, as the ranger hopped back down into the ash.
“We need to take care of this,” Ratchis said, walking over towards the opposite column.
“Can’t this wait until the return trip?” Kazrack asked.
“I am not so much concerned with proper burial as I am worried about the necromancer using them against us,” Ratchis said, climbing up to cut down the other.
“I thought we killed the necromancer,” Adalar said, coming to the front to see what was going on.
“There could be another one,” Ratchis said, coming back down.
“We do not have time to properly deal with them,” Beorth said.
“Can’t we just burn them here?” Ratchis asked.
“Why alert our enemies who are no doubt nearby?” Kazrack said.
“It’s true,” Martin said. “We do not know how many different types of enemies we might find here. These gnolls seem in no way related to either the gnomes or the humans, it is possible that other factions or dangers are nearby. Thus, the cloud of ash we are creating and painfully breathing in might not be so unusual for someone to see from somewhere else; either way we have no choice. However, a fire might rouse some suspicions and we do have a choice about that.”
Everyone looked at Martin the Green with some surprise.
“Well spoken,” said Kazrack
“Let us leave them, we shall return to deal with them properly once we have dealt with the more immediate danger,” Beorth said. “Let us not disturb them even more by unduly touching them even more.”
The paladin had a look of disdain on his face, clearly not wanting to leave the bodies, but inwardly vowing that he would return for them.
The group continued moving, but Jeremy hung back, and soon was able to creep into a shadowy space between two columns, allowing the trailing dwarves to pass him. He then crept back to the two gnoll corpses and cleaved their heads off with his sword.
“Better safe than sorry,” he said aloud, as he wiped off his blade and hurried to rejoin the others before they noticed his absence.
Blodnath eyed him warily when he returned and the Neergaardian gave him a nervous wink.
They now began to find more pairs of rotting gnolls, each set in a greater state of decay than the last, about every six or eight columns. The final sets were merely bones and hair.
“This is very odd,” Martin wondered, wiping ashy and sweaty forehead with a dust cover kerchief. “Why are these here?”
“Perhaps the earliest ones were freshest,” Jeremy replied.
Martin the Green gave the swordsman a quizzical look, “But why are they here?”
“Maybe they needed to be prepared?” Jeremy speculated.
“Prepared for what? To become the undead?’ Kazrack interjected. “I think all you need to become a zombie or something is an evil heart.”
Ratchis snorted. “There is a clearing up ahead. Be prepared.”
The party began to move forward again, but Ratchis stopped them suddenly. He easily noted that a new set of tracks had enter the corridor from a slightly wider space between columns. It was dozens of booted feet that had been hurrying. The shaggy patterns in the ash around this track suggested that it had been living gnolls, and not more than a day ago.
He told the others what he had noted, and then led them to the clearing.
Here the columns of stone were even taller, and widened to create a large oblong space, about 200 feet long and about 150 feet wide. Near the center was black stone that seemed to emerge from the ash. They could not see how far back it reached, but it was nearly fifty feet wide and fifteen feet tall, and was flat on the top. The front of it looked like it had once been partially melted and raised shelf of stone about five feet up led to a recessed portion on the front, flanked by awkward steps that seemed to have been made of flowing magma and led to the flat surface atop. Where two large painted stone statutes of tall gnoll figures dressed in feathers stood waiting. The statues seemed weathered, and one was missing an arm, which must have once pointed down at the stone shelf. The way the stairways curved towards each other, giving the stone the rough appearance of a horned beetle.
On the shelf was the prone skeleton of some huge humanoid. Its bone white wrists were still held in shackles attached to chains that reached back into the five-foot recess.
However, what was most unnerving about this place was that the entire ‘clearing’ was not black with ash, but a washed gray of crushed shards of bone. There were all sorts of femurs, and skull fragments, and clavicles and pelvis and tons of unidentifiable shattered parts and powder.
“Maybe we’re not ready for Hurgun’s Maze yet,” Jeremy said, gulping dryly.
“You think?” Martin replied.
“What makes you think this is Hurgun’s Maze?” Kazrack asked, shocked by the suggestion.
“Well, he was a stone wizard, wasn’t he?” Jeremy gestured to the odd monolith.
“Stone, not bone,” Kazrack said, gesturing with his halberd to the ground before them.
“This is not an auspicious place to be battling a necromancer,” Martin said, running through worse-case scenarios in his head.
Beorth stepped to the front and gestured for the others to stand back. Most of the group hovered at the entrance, while Golnar, Tolnar and Jolnar turned to watch their backs at Captain Adalar’s direction.
The paladin of Anubis covered his eyes with his left hand and reached out with his right.
“Anubis grant me sight beyond sight to sense the emanations of dark powers in this place so we may put the dead to final and deserving rest in your name.”
Beorth reached out with his senses feeling them unite and become greater than the sum of their parts. It was as if he could see despite he was covering his eyes, but he could see more than he normally could. There was a dark shadow that passed over his heart when looked at the base of the stone, in a corner on the right beneath one of the stairways.
“Beorth, do you sense something?” Ratchis asked.
Beorth nodded and pointed. “Somehow it seems to be coming from beneath the ash and bone.
“Something’s coming,” Derek spoke up, his keen ears catching what all the others now heard, the sound of bones crunching under feet, coming from the right side of the stone.
Around the right side of the huge black stone came the shambling figures of four Gothanian soldiers in tattered armor and tunics. They wore empty scabbards on their sides, and their faces were rotting and ripped up. One seemed to have it skull have crushed, one eyeball resting like a gray jelly on his face. The four zombies moved towards the party, arms outstretched and moaning their eternal agony.
“Form a line!” Ratchis commanded, stepping forward and drawing his long sword. “Kazrack do not go too far. Martin watch the flank. I will not waste my divine blessing on these!”
“Watch the back,” Captain Adalar reminded his young charges. “Do not let anything through, and call us if you see anything!”
Derek threw his bow over his neck and shoulders and pulled his battle axe off his back, stepping up to join the forming line. Jeremy and Kazrack joined him, while Martin hustled over to the other side, checking to see if anything was coming from the other side. He was slightly ahead of the line.
“More are coming from the other side,” the watch-mage warned.
Beorth broke the line slightly, stepping forward to be even with Martin and taking a swing with his long sword at one of the zombie shoulders, who had nearly reached them, but he misjudged and missed. Derek stepped forward again, to support Beorth, but the chop of his axe was short as well. If the guttural moaning of the thing had not been constant, it would have seemed mocking.
Grunting Ratchis, joined the two humans and his blade did not miss is mark. A huge chunk of this first zombie’s arm fell into the bone, splattering near-liquid rotten flesh on the bones piled around. The crunching of bones beneath their boots accompanied all their movements.
Martin pulled a torch he always carried in his belt, and waving a hand incanted, Manus Incantati! He let go of the torch, but it floated in the air, supported by an invisible hand.
Jeremy stepped up and joined the forward moving line, but further on the left, waiting for more zombies to approach, while Kazrack slashed at the first zombie twice, cutting it into three flailing pieces that soon stopped moving.
“Thank you my lords and lady!” Kazrack cried out joyously in dwarven.
Another zombie reached the line and swung its calcified fists at Beorth, who duck and thrust with his sword. The blade entered the zombie point first, but seemed to have no effect.
More zombies approached, Derek swung his axe fiercely, having to jerk it back and forth to pull it out of the collarbone of the first to reach him, but the zombie did not fall.
Ratchis’ sword blow was blocked by the forearm of his foe, doing no damage, while Martin sent his now lit torch over to the closest approaching zombie.
Jeremy gritted his teeth and swung at a zombie’s neck with all his strength. The former soldier’s head tumbled off, and for a moment the zombie continued to flail its arms menacingly at the Neergaardian and then fell.
Another zombie fell to Kazrack’s pole-axe.
The dwarves set up a second line behind the party, readying to support them, except for Helrahd who stepped up and joined them with an axe in each hand. He spit in the direction of the zombies.
Now the entire party was locked in combat with the zombie soldiers, but their combat skill was enough to avoid the awkward flailing blows of the mindless creatures.
And suddenly there was a sound like a hissing roar. Atop of the black monolith, above the stone shelf with its chained skeleton, there appeared a gnoll, dressed in a robe of faded feathers, and a mask of flayed human skin. A nasty stench of death, even stronger than that of the zombies, wafted from him, and his fur looked mangy and falling off in large clumps. Red glowing eyes shone from beneath the mask of skin.
Not a second had passed when the skeleton in chains began to rattle and shake, as if trying to rise, as a cloud of dust rose from the corner where Beorth had sensed the presence of evil. The Gothanian lieutenant wight came burrowing out from under the ground frenzied. Its eyes shone red as well.
“Revenge,” it hissed, as it surveyed the party struggling with the zombified remains of his troops.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
(1) The Mountain Wars lasted from 409 to 427 H.E. – when the Kingdom of Herman Land tried to annex Derome-Delem and met fierce resistance from allied dwarves, gnomes, elves and even halfings.
(2) Hurgun of the Stone was a geomancer of some renown, who was said to have constructed his stronghold at some kind of planar nexus. It is a place of power that the party has discovered several factions are searching for.
(3) Martin’s ring called “Lacan’s Demise” allows him to go without food, water or more than two hours of sleep.
(4) Called “Rune-throwers” dwarven priests use rune-stones as their holy symbol and as a form of divination.
(5) DM’s Note: All the characters were making Fortitude checks every hour or taking subdual damage from breathing in the caustic ash.
Session #40
Part Two: In which the monolithic entrance to the Necropolis is discovered.
The Fearless Manticore Killers and their dwarven companions fell into a staggered line as they marched, still being led by Ratchis, but Kazrack and Belear followed close behind, with Martin the Green flanked by Helrahd and Kirla. Jeremy came up behind him. Beorth was marching at the rear with Captain Adalar and the three brothers.
They could all feel the fine black dust like miniscule shards of black glass stinging their nostrils and ripping the back of their throats raw. Even in the little moonlight there was, everyone’s hair and clothes seemed to glisten black. They were all covered by a thin layer of the inhospitable stuff.
The tall columns of stone were wreathed in the darkness of the shadows of the others, making a web eerie moonlight that they had to at time walk through.
“You know if I were laying an ambush here I would use illusions to conceal men…or wights,” Martin said, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise. The temperature had dropped considerably and he could see his own breath in the blueness of night.
“I don’t think they have laid an ambush here,” Kazrack said, looking back.
“Unless they hid behind those rocks,” Jeremy said, a little too loudly. Up ahead Ratchis stopped and looked back, and the dwarves all looked at the blonde human then at each other, and suddenly the sound of their boots crunching in the ash was punctuated with grumblings. Ratchis scowled and continued.
Jeremy seemed to take no notice of any of it.
“Unless they were using mundane means of concealment,” Kazrack whispered by way of some form of explanation for his comment, wanting to get the last word in.
“Like, what? Hiding behind rocks?” Jeremy said, sarcastically.
Derek chuckled.
“I wonder if this place was made during the Mountain Wars?” Martin mused aloud, changing the subject. (1)
“In a war? You think a war made this?” Jeremy gestured in a round motion with the torch he carried over his head, sending wild shadows over the nearby dwarves.
“Yes, perhaps through some great magic, or perhaps it was the work of Hurgun,’ Martin replied. (2)
“So you think magic made all this,” Jeremy asked again, remaining skeptical.
“I don’t know,” Martin retreated from his assertion his lack of confidence undermining his readily apparent intellectual superiority over Jeremy. His attitude became sharp and defensive, “You can’t say this is exactly a normal place.”
“No kidding,” Derek said softy, smiling. Martin wrinkled his upper lip in anger and slowed his pace to allow Beorth to catch up.
Jeremy looked at Derek and snickered.
They had marched for about three miles, when Ratchis looked up to notice that they had not moved much more than a quarter mile away from the ridge that marked this bizarre land’s edge. They had doubled-back on their tracks in long winding trails. The tall stone columns were scattered in a very disorienting way, especially in the dark. He looked back over the group and could see exhaustion on their faces, even though the dwarves would never admit it. The sudden cold snap, breathing in the ash, the whole day of marching and the battle of the day before all weighed heavily on their shoulders.
“We have to go back,” Ratchis announced. “We are too tired and weak to continue.”
“Heh. Figures,” Blodnoth coughed into his hand.
It was agreed, and making their way back to the edge took relatively no time at all. They had to use ropes to help the dwarves (and Martin) get up the other side of the ridge incline. It was very steep and covered in the ash.
They made camp. Ratchis dug a big fire pit and lined it with some of the ash, but the few scrubby trees that were in the area did not provide much wood, and the group had carried about enough tinder to last another three days.
The half-orc also used the last of his prepared healing spells to help Jeremy and Kazrack with some wounds that still ailed them. He did the same for himself, softly calling to his beloved goddess.
Kazrack and Belear fell to discussing what spells they might prepare in the morn. “Should we not invite D’naar to join us in this discussion?” Kazrack asked the other two dwarven priests.
Captain Adalar scowled, but Belear merely shook his bowed head. “He received blessings from his own god. He can keep his own counsel.”
Kazrack reluctantly agreed, his eyes resting momentarily of his half-breed friend speaking with Beorth about the positioning of the tents. The half-orc’s visage was made more menacing and ugly in the harsh shadows of the fire.
After everyone had eaten, the adventurers began to bed down for the night. There was already a frost covering the ridge they had made camp on, but none could be seen collecting on the ash. Ratchis and Beorth took the first watch along with the three dwarven brothers, who circled the camp very enthusiastically.
This watch went by without event, and Martin awoke for the latter half of it, only needing two hours of sleep a night. (3)
Martin studied his books while he watched with the second shift, Derek, Jeremy, Kirla, Blodnath and Baervard.
In the deadest and darkest part of the night, soon after the moon set there came a sudden and sharp sound from out across the land of the black stone columns. It was a repeated cracking as if pices of wood or something similar was being smashed against each other. Even when the smashing stopped, its echoed carried on for long moments, and when it died there would be a long pause and then it began again.
“What is that?” Jeremy hissed.
“Someone’s making an awful lot of noise,” Derek said sardonically. Martin looked around nervously.
The sound did not seem to come nearer or move further away.
“It does not approach, but should we wake the others?” She looked to Martin, who shrugged his shoulders.
“No,” Blodnath said. “No reason to yet.”
Martin and Jeremy nodded. The sound came again several more times, and then after nearly an hour’s time of on and off again, it stopped and was not heard again.
The sun had not yet risen when Belear awoke for the third watch, telling the others to go to sleep as he awoke Kazrack and Helrahd. Captain Adalar woke of his own volition. Martin sat up and watched with them at all, not having so much as yawned all night.
------------------
Isilem, 9th of Prem, 565 H.E.
When the sun did rise, the camp was already bustling and being broken down. The unusual cold of the night gave way to unusual rise in temperature, and soon all the dwarves were scratching under their beards, where sweat collected. Everyone rolled up their woolen and fur cloaks and strapped them to their packs.
They began by following their own trail back into the labyrinth of columns, but crossing where they could see it deeper in the dead area, as they could now see clearly how they had wandered aimlessly through the ash. Now in the bright light it seemed so clear how to get further into this barren land, but in the darkness of night, the place was much more disorienting.
Disorienting it was still, but Ratchis and Derek soon found the trail of the zombies, which soon re-joined with that of the wight, and they all moved deeper into the maze of spikes and columns. The trail led them in a zigzagging pattern, turning in long curves and then moving in as straight a line as possible. The single wight trail often left the trenches dragged into the ash by the shuffling zombies, but always returned.
The heat began to become unbearable, as the sun seemed to be cruelly pointing out the weary adventurers, as the black ash rose up in great clouds, and infiltrated every nook and cranny of their clothing and equipment. They could feel their lungs and nostrils burning raw from inhaling the stuff.
Derek stopped for a drink of water from his skin. He felt light headed, and it hurt to breath. Jeremy began to cough, and Kazrack and the dwarves were all wheezing. (5) Tears streamed down Ratchis’ face for ash kept blowing into his eyes. A weakness was coming over all of them from the heat and from breathing the ash. Beorth seemed the least affected, but even he gasped at times. Following the boy’s lead, even one stop and began to drink and wipe their faces.
“This is a horrible place,” Martin said.
“It’s likely to get worse before it gets better,” Ratchis said. “Everyone drink up. We have to keep going. I think I can see where the trail is going, and the columns looks different in that direction.”
Helrahd grunted, “You know we are kicking up so much of this stuff that anyone could see us a mile away or more.” As dry as everyone’s mouth was, Helrahd still found some mucus to hack up and spit out into the ash.
“There is nothing we can do about it,” said Kazrack.
They continued to follow Ratchis after their too brief rest, and the trail the undead left behind led to a odd series of columns. Here the columns were tall and tapered to nearly a point, and they were very close together, so much so that some seemed to create a narrower corridor, only fifteen feet at its widest. It was possible to squeeze between these spires, but not with ease as the ash was piled high around them.
“Oh great, the killing zone,” Martin sighed sarcastically, imagining countless foes blocking off either end as they emerged from the shadows of the columns and from underneath the ash.
“Well, I guess we’re going to have to turn back then,” Kazrack said looking at the watch-mage with a smile.
Martin did not return the expression.
“It was a joke friend Martin,” Kazrack said, his face getting serious. “I thought that’d be obvious. It as meant as humor.”
“No fear,” Martin replied, and then added under his breath. “I knew I wasn’t that lucky.”
“We all need to remain extra alert,” Captain Adalar said. Golnar, Jolnar and Tolnar loaded their crossbows.
Kazrack clutched the bag of runes about his neck (4) and spoke out to one of the dwarven gods in his father’s tongue, “Krauchaar, give me strength to defeat our foes, crush their skulls and break their bones!”
The dwarf could feel the strength divinely awarded him surging through his muscles. He deftly swung his halberd over his shoulder. It hardly seemed to weigh a thing anymore.
Ratchis led the way down the corridor of pillars, followed by Kazrack, Belear and Beorth, who were then followed by Derek and Jeremy and Martin. The rest of the dwarves followed behind, with Captain Adalar and the three dwarven brothers taking the rear.
They had walked only a few dozen yards down the curving corridor, when Ratchis notices two of the spires sticking into the path.
There was something hanging on each of them.
The half-orc raised his hand and slowed his pace. Everyone followed suit.
The wind shifted and a foul rotting smell wafted overt them in that instant.
Beorth grimaced with anger when he saw what it was. Martin gasped.
The corpses of two decaying gnolls hung from the columns, their arms twisted back and tied to each other by the wrist with a long stretch of hide that was looped over the spire.
Without a speaking a word, Ratchis climbed up on of the spires and hacked through the hide with a hatchet. The gnoll body slid down in sickeningly snapping pile of bones, cartilage, and withered hide.
“What are you doing?” Kazrack called to Ratchis, as the ranger hopped back down into the ash.
“We need to take care of this,” Ratchis said, walking over towards the opposite column.
“Can’t this wait until the return trip?” Kazrack asked.
“I am not so much concerned with proper burial as I am worried about the necromancer using them against us,” Ratchis said, climbing up to cut down the other.
“I thought we killed the necromancer,” Adalar said, coming to the front to see what was going on.
“There could be another one,” Ratchis said, coming back down.
“We do not have time to properly deal with them,” Beorth said.
“Can’t we just burn them here?” Ratchis asked.
“Why alert our enemies who are no doubt nearby?” Kazrack said.
“It’s true,” Martin said. “We do not know how many different types of enemies we might find here. These gnolls seem in no way related to either the gnomes or the humans, it is possible that other factions or dangers are nearby. Thus, the cloud of ash we are creating and painfully breathing in might not be so unusual for someone to see from somewhere else; either way we have no choice. However, a fire might rouse some suspicions and we do have a choice about that.”
Everyone looked at Martin the Green with some surprise.
“Well spoken,” said Kazrack
“Let us leave them, we shall return to deal with them properly once we have dealt with the more immediate danger,” Beorth said. “Let us not disturb them even more by unduly touching them even more.”
The paladin had a look of disdain on his face, clearly not wanting to leave the bodies, but inwardly vowing that he would return for them.
The group continued moving, but Jeremy hung back, and soon was able to creep into a shadowy space between two columns, allowing the trailing dwarves to pass him. He then crept back to the two gnoll corpses and cleaved their heads off with his sword.
“Better safe than sorry,” he said aloud, as he wiped off his blade and hurried to rejoin the others before they noticed his absence.
Blodnath eyed him warily when he returned and the Neergaardian gave him a nervous wink.
They now began to find more pairs of rotting gnolls, each set in a greater state of decay than the last, about every six or eight columns. The final sets were merely bones and hair.
“This is very odd,” Martin wondered, wiping ashy and sweaty forehead with a dust cover kerchief. “Why are these here?”
“Perhaps the earliest ones were freshest,” Jeremy replied.
Martin the Green gave the swordsman a quizzical look, “But why are they here?”
“Maybe they needed to be prepared?” Jeremy speculated.
“Prepared for what? To become the undead?’ Kazrack interjected. “I think all you need to become a zombie or something is an evil heart.”
Ratchis snorted. “There is a clearing up ahead. Be prepared.”
The party began to move forward again, but Ratchis stopped them suddenly. He easily noted that a new set of tracks had enter the corridor from a slightly wider space between columns. It was dozens of booted feet that had been hurrying. The shaggy patterns in the ash around this track suggested that it had been living gnolls, and not more than a day ago.
He told the others what he had noted, and then led them to the clearing.
Here the columns of stone were even taller, and widened to create a large oblong space, about 200 feet long and about 150 feet wide. Near the center was black stone that seemed to emerge from the ash. They could not see how far back it reached, but it was nearly fifty feet wide and fifteen feet tall, and was flat on the top. The front of it looked like it had once been partially melted and raised shelf of stone about five feet up led to a recessed portion on the front, flanked by awkward steps that seemed to have been made of flowing magma and led to the flat surface atop. Where two large painted stone statutes of tall gnoll figures dressed in feathers stood waiting. The statues seemed weathered, and one was missing an arm, which must have once pointed down at the stone shelf. The way the stairways curved towards each other, giving the stone the rough appearance of a horned beetle.
On the shelf was the prone skeleton of some huge humanoid. Its bone white wrists were still held in shackles attached to chains that reached back into the five-foot recess.
However, what was most unnerving about this place was that the entire ‘clearing’ was not black with ash, but a washed gray of crushed shards of bone. There were all sorts of femurs, and skull fragments, and clavicles and pelvis and tons of unidentifiable shattered parts and powder.
“Maybe we’re not ready for Hurgun’s Maze yet,” Jeremy said, gulping dryly.
“You think?” Martin replied.
“What makes you think this is Hurgun’s Maze?” Kazrack asked, shocked by the suggestion.
“Well, he was a stone wizard, wasn’t he?” Jeremy gestured to the odd monolith.
“Stone, not bone,” Kazrack said, gesturing with his halberd to the ground before them.
“This is not an auspicious place to be battling a necromancer,” Martin said, running through worse-case scenarios in his head.
Beorth stepped to the front and gestured for the others to stand back. Most of the group hovered at the entrance, while Golnar, Tolnar and Jolnar turned to watch their backs at Captain Adalar’s direction.
The paladin of Anubis covered his eyes with his left hand and reached out with his right.
“Anubis grant me sight beyond sight to sense the emanations of dark powers in this place so we may put the dead to final and deserving rest in your name.”
Beorth reached out with his senses feeling them unite and become greater than the sum of their parts. It was as if he could see despite he was covering his eyes, but he could see more than he normally could. There was a dark shadow that passed over his heart when looked at the base of the stone, in a corner on the right beneath one of the stairways.
“Beorth, do you sense something?” Ratchis asked.
Beorth nodded and pointed. “Somehow it seems to be coming from beneath the ash and bone.
“Something’s coming,” Derek spoke up, his keen ears catching what all the others now heard, the sound of bones crunching under feet, coming from the right side of the stone.
Around the right side of the huge black stone came the shambling figures of four Gothanian soldiers in tattered armor and tunics. They wore empty scabbards on their sides, and their faces were rotting and ripped up. One seemed to have it skull have crushed, one eyeball resting like a gray jelly on his face. The four zombies moved towards the party, arms outstretched and moaning their eternal agony.
“Form a line!” Ratchis commanded, stepping forward and drawing his long sword. “Kazrack do not go too far. Martin watch the flank. I will not waste my divine blessing on these!”
“Watch the back,” Captain Adalar reminded his young charges. “Do not let anything through, and call us if you see anything!”
Derek threw his bow over his neck and shoulders and pulled his battle axe off his back, stepping up to join the forming line. Jeremy and Kazrack joined him, while Martin hustled over to the other side, checking to see if anything was coming from the other side. He was slightly ahead of the line.
“More are coming from the other side,” the watch-mage warned.
Beorth broke the line slightly, stepping forward to be even with Martin and taking a swing with his long sword at one of the zombie shoulders, who had nearly reached them, but he misjudged and missed. Derek stepped forward again, to support Beorth, but the chop of his axe was short as well. If the guttural moaning of the thing had not been constant, it would have seemed mocking.
Grunting Ratchis, joined the two humans and his blade did not miss is mark. A huge chunk of this first zombie’s arm fell into the bone, splattering near-liquid rotten flesh on the bones piled around. The crunching of bones beneath their boots accompanied all their movements.
Martin pulled a torch he always carried in his belt, and waving a hand incanted, Manus Incantati! He let go of the torch, but it floated in the air, supported by an invisible hand.
Jeremy stepped up and joined the forward moving line, but further on the left, waiting for more zombies to approach, while Kazrack slashed at the first zombie twice, cutting it into three flailing pieces that soon stopped moving.
“Thank you my lords and lady!” Kazrack cried out joyously in dwarven.
Another zombie reached the line and swung its calcified fists at Beorth, who duck and thrust with his sword. The blade entered the zombie point first, but seemed to have no effect.
More zombies approached, Derek swung his axe fiercely, having to jerk it back and forth to pull it out of the collarbone of the first to reach him, but the zombie did not fall.
Ratchis’ sword blow was blocked by the forearm of his foe, doing no damage, while Martin sent his now lit torch over to the closest approaching zombie.
Jeremy gritted his teeth and swung at a zombie’s neck with all his strength. The former soldier’s head tumbled off, and for a moment the zombie continued to flail its arms menacingly at the Neergaardian and then fell.
Another zombie fell to Kazrack’s pole-axe.
The dwarves set up a second line behind the party, readying to support them, except for Helrahd who stepped up and joined them with an axe in each hand. He spit in the direction of the zombies.
Now the entire party was locked in combat with the zombie soldiers, but their combat skill was enough to avoid the awkward flailing blows of the mindless creatures.
And suddenly there was a sound like a hissing roar. Atop of the black monolith, above the stone shelf with its chained skeleton, there appeared a gnoll, dressed in a robe of faded feathers, and a mask of flayed human skin. A nasty stench of death, even stronger than that of the zombies, wafted from him, and his fur looked mangy and falling off in large clumps. Red glowing eyes shone from beneath the mask of skin.
Not a second had passed when the skeleton in chains began to rattle and shake, as if trying to rise, as a cloud of dust rose from the corner where Beorth had sensed the presence of evil. The Gothanian lieutenant wight came burrowing out from under the ground frenzied. Its eyes shone red as well.
“Revenge,” it hissed, as it surveyed the party struggling with the zombified remains of his troops.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
(1) The Mountain Wars lasted from 409 to 427 H.E. – when the Kingdom of Herman Land tried to annex Derome-Delem and met fierce resistance from allied dwarves, gnomes, elves and even halfings.
(2) Hurgun of the Stone was a geomancer of some renown, who was said to have constructed his stronghold at some kind of planar nexus. It is a place of power that the party has discovered several factions are searching for.
(3) Martin’s ring called “Lacan’s Demise” allows him to go without food, water or more than two hours of sleep.
(4) Called “Rune-throwers” dwarven priests use rune-stones as their holy symbol and as a form of divination.
(5) DM’s Note: All the characters were making Fortitude checks every hour or taking subdual damage from breathing in the caustic ash.
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
End of Session #40
Session #40
Part Three: The party does fierce battle with the gnoll witch-doctor wights, and learns that they have happened upon yet another mystery. . ..
“Revenge,” the former Gothanian officer, hissed again. He left a rain of bones behind him as he ambled forward, his shoulders hunched, and his lower lip ripped open and oozing yellow pus spotted with purple-black splotches.
Derek smashed the skeleton before him into shards, his fear giving him sudden vigor.
“Natan”Ahb!” Belear stepped up behind the line and called out to the father of all dwarves. “I implore you forger of our souls to allow your divine wind fill me and blow out again like the great bellows of your forge! And to cast these undead things back into whatever pit they crawled from!”
All the zombies turned to flee, their automatic motor functions reacting to the presence of a divine force.
Ratchis took this opportunity to call upon Nephthys to bless his sword with an enchantment, while Martin sent his torch flying over towards the wight-lieutenant. Jeremy however took advantage of the zombie turning from him blindly and hacked at it deeply. It fell to the ground and feeble tried to get back up though one of its legs was missing and its head was cleaved open, before it just stopped moving entirely.
Kazrack also took the time to call upon one of his gods. “Mother of Blessed Mercy, raise your shield and defend me from those who would wish me harm!” (1)
Helrahd took off after a zombie moving to the left of the monolith.
“We can no longer hold the line, there are enemies with a vantage from above!” Kazrack called out. “We must advance! Half to the left! Half to the right!”
Jolnar, Tolnar and Golnar left their positions ‘watching the back’ and jostled to get past Kirla and the others.
“Let me through!” Tolnar said, shoving past Blodnath with a grin.
“There is space over here,” Jolnar said, moving to take the place at the entrance to the clearing that Helrahd had just vacated.
“Tarnitch! (2) Don’t rush up there!” Captain Adalar barked, and the younger dwarves starled, seemingly more afraid of him than of the undead danger before them. “Let the others take care of that! You watch the back! My orders have not changed.”
“Yes, sir,” Golnar replied meekly.
Up on the monolith, the rotting gnoll shaman rose up to his full height. His bones and sinews could be heard to crack even above the din of the battle.
The thing shook its shoulders violently, moldy feathers fluttering from his cloak and shoulder regalia. It cried aloud something in the barking and laughing tongue of the gnolls, but it sounded like snorts and croaks. It pointed to Martin, who looked up in horror to see three pulsating shafts of light hurl at him, and strike him with the force mailed gloves. The watch-mage gasped in pain.
The torch dropped to the ground. The concentration on his mage hand spell was broken.
The former lieutenant shrieked as it rushed at Kazrack, who stopped short, to feel the whiff of blackened and dirty claws in front of his face.
It was the sound of the chain scraping and clanging that awoke Beorth from his mind wandering as he took in this place and this scene in awe. He could sense of the evil of this place in his pores. Though he could not remember his former life, his family, or even his companions or the details of the undead he had been trained to fight, he did not lose his sense of purpose. For a moment it had been as if Anubis himself had illuminated this place for him to see it, and not the dragging tracks of a foul wight. The paladin allowed himself a smile, and called upon his jackal-headed god to enchant his weapon, and he move steadily towards the left hand stair. He ignored the sound, which had awakened him, not taking his eyes off of the undead shaman above, but the others did not.
They could all see the nearly nine foot tall skeleton of what must have been an ogre, pull the chain from the wall as it stood, and swung the heavy shackle over its head.
Ratchis moved to follow Beorth, scooping up some pebbles from the ground and calling on Nephthys to enchant the stones as well. (3)
Martin hurried back to the relative safety of the line of dwarves, casting his shield spell in the process. He passed Derek who moved to wait just out of reach of the giant skeleton’s weapon. Looking for an opportunity to get within its reach.
Unlike Ratchis and Beorth, who moved past Kazrack to get to whom they perceived to be the leader, Jeremy moved up to support his dwarven ally and with a quick chop of his long sword, removed its right arm at the elbow. Black blood spurted and then oozed out.
The wight screeched again, and side-stepped Kazrack’s thrust of his halberd. The dwarf ‘s momentum caused him to lean overly forward losing his balance, and the wight took full advantage, clawing the dwarf across the face with its black nails.
Kazrack could feel the cold of the thing’s touch reach down into his very soul. He felt shaken, as if death had cast its shadow on him for less than a moment. (4)
Helrahd continued after the zombies on the left, hacking into one with an axe, as it still tried to flee.
The skeleton stepped forward and swung its chain at Derek, who ducked and took a swing with his battle axe at the thing’s leg. It awkwardly, but quickly lifted it up to avoid the blow.
“Heh-ma-na-neh-FAA!” the undead gnoll crocked and tossed something at the bottom of the stairs where Beorth and Ratchis had begun to climb. The half-orc stopped dead in his tracks, but the paladin sudden felt as if he were trying to walk across a puddle of molasses. His feet slipped out from him and he fell painfully on his back, smashing his helmet on the first step.
Blodnath moved with great speed, short sword in hand to help Kazrack and Jeremy finish the wight, but the thing punched the flat of the blade knocking it out of alignment. It also used the stump of its arms, still dribbling black blood, to throw off Belear’s blow with a warhammer, as the elder rune-thrower had also advanced.
Ratchis tried to carefully step past Beorth, but did not get far, slipping and falling with little grace.
“Good dwarven brothers, continue to guard the rear!” Martin the Green called to Golnar, Jolnar and Tolnar and he stepped forward, flicking his left hand towards the large skeleton facing off with Derek. “Lentus!”
The skeleton’s movements slowed and his chain lost momentum, making it a less effective weapon.
By this time, Kirla had made her way into the fray, with her flail in one hand and a shield in the other. She ducked the chain, and slammed the skeleton’s femur, sending a lengthwise crack down the bone. The undead giant teetered for a moment and then regained its balance.
Again the former lieutenant shrieked, flanked by dwarves and Jeremy it still refused to fall, and suffered another slash of Kazrack’s halberd across its chest. A rib and the flesh around it was cut away, and the things black and unbeating heart was revealed, but still: it would not fall. Its remaining arm backhanded the dwarf again, and again he felt the cold grip of its dark touch shake him down to the soul.
“Flammus spheres incendius! the gnoll atop the monolith croaked, now speaking arcane words that Martin could barely decipher, and from his hand rolled a tiny ball of fire that puffed up to about six feet in diameter and rolled down the stairs towards Ratchis.
Derek seeing that Kirla seemed to be handling the skeletal ogre just fine by herself, took the opportunity of the undead witch-doctor’s distraction and charged up the steps. However, the blow of his axe fell short, as he was shocked to see what had been out of view from below – two more of the undead gnolls.
“Two more undead gnolls up here!” Derek warned the others, fear tingeing his youthful tenor.
Captain Adalar hustled up to the base of the monolith between the stairs and slammed his great axe into the skeleton’s ribcage, cracking a few.
Beorth managed to roll out of the magically greased area and scrambled to his feet, but was still at the bottom of the stairs. He watched the ball of flamed bounced down towards his half-orc companion. Ratchis got on his hands and knees and spun himself out of the greased area, and stood. The ball singed his matted hair, but did no real damage.
Jeremy, Blodnath and Belear were a flurry of blades and hammers as they desperate tried to cut down the wight that was draining Kazrack of his very life energy, but the thing had not lost even a bit of its agility and prowess, avoiding some blows easily and using the thick crusted over hide of his shoulders and back to absorb others.
However, Kazrack, in his fury could see and opening and plunged the heavy blade of his pole-arm into the thing’s neck.
“You may have stolen my life, but now creature, I end yours!”
“I am already dead,” the thing croaked and the crumbled into a wet mass of rotten flesh and crumbling bone.
In the meantime, Helrahd was still chasing the fleeing zombies, and Baervard followed him, swords in hand.
Captain Adalar cleaved into the shoulder of the skeletal ogre with his great axe and the thing fell into many pieces. Kirla threw him a disappointed glance, having hoped to handle it on her own.
The first undead gnoll whirled around and reached out with a clawed hand, ripping into Derek’s stomach. The young man felt the claws pierce him, but worse still he felt the cold reach into his body and touch his very soul. Startled, he swung his axe down sharply, and there was a snapping sound. He had cleaved off the thing’s left hand.
Derek’s jaw dropped as the thing howled as much as in anger as in agony. The other two undead gnolls moved to join their companion.
“Uh, I could use some help up here!” Derek called through chattering teeth. He could see now that these things had flanked some kind of shaft that went straight down at the rear of the stone platform. A long flat rock like a gravestone was parallel to the front of the monolith, but behind the shaft. In many places the flat surface of the monolith though black was stained with something darker still, blood.
Now handless, the undead gnoll barked at Derek in the gnollish tongue. (5)
Beorth leapt up on the stairs, hoping to miss the greased area, and succeeding. He made his up onto the monolith.
Ratchis did not follow, but positioned himself to throw one of his stones made magical by the blessing of his goddess. It struck the undead gnoll as if it weighed fifty pounds not a few ounces, and punched a hole through its body, piercing the shoulder and shattering bone.
The witch-doctor spun around to keep abreast of his new foes, his remaining rheumy eye spinning in its partially exposed skull beneath the mask of human skin.
Martin looked from one group to another, trying to determine what they would do next and what he should do. He looked at Derek and Beorth flanking the flailing undead gnoll witch-doctor, and Ratchis tossing his stone. He saw Kirla turning to charge up the right hand stairway, while Belear and some of the other dwarves moved to help Helrahd round up the Gothian zombies.
Kazrack fell to one knee, his hand on his chest, gripping his pouch of runestones and called out to his deities. “Natan-ahb! Judge these creatures and find them wanting! They are lifeless husks! Turn them from your sight!”
But the power of this place was strong and dark, and Kazrack’s faith was not strong enough to overcome it. He bowed his head in shame.
Jeremy charged towards the monolith, and using the platform the skeleton had been chain to as a step he leapt up and caught the lip of the stone. He pulled himself up onto the monolith, and redrew his long sword, chopping down at the undead gnoll. There was more cracking bone as the thing wobbled, but then pushed away.
“Somebody called?” Jeremy quipped with a wink to Derek, who smiled despite the danger.
Kirla followed by way of the stairs, and Captain Adalar was right behind her.
By now the undead gnoll shaman had backed away from Derek, while the other two moved to cut the young tracker away from the paladin, but Kirla was now arriving for support and Jeremy was in position to attack any of them.
The undead gnoll shaman leaned backward and pointed down at Ratchis and with a snarl snorted, “Oh-ley-ah-say-fah-rah-sa-owrn!”
Ratchis felt a spell wash over him, but it had no effect. Firmly entrenched in his faith, no fear could ever enter his heart. (6)
The other two undead gnolls lurched at Derek, clawing at him with backward-bent broken fingers, and red glowing orbs in empty black eye sockets. They seemed to have pushed human teeth into their decayed flesh to decorate their bodies. It was all Derek could do to keep from wretching as he swung his axe to keep them at arm’s length.
“Anubis, show this creature your righteous anger!”
Beorth swung his quarterstaff around and called upon the divine vengeance of Anubis to smite the spell-casting abomination. (7) The thing’s head popped like a melon and spattered green and gray matter across the top of the black stone. It crumbled, its cracked head rolling into a puddle of what once had been its contents. The jaw still moved and words croaked forth in the barking tongue. (8)
Ratchis bounded up the stairs, using his momentum to chuck another of his blessed pebbles at one of the undead gnolls. The stone pierced the thing’s skull from the right and rear with a resounding crack, and emerged through its left eye, splattering Derek. The thing did not fall.
Jeremy cleaved into it with his long sword, forcing it to turn to face him and move out to his left, to keep from being surrounded, as Kirla moved in to take a wide swing at the other.
Kazrack cautiously made his way up the left staircase, while Martin braved the right.
The undead gnoll that moved away croaked some arcane words, and soon another sphere of flame was bouncing and rolling towards Ratchis. The hulking half-orc was busy getting his sword and tried to move out its way too late. The flames licked up his clothing, and singed his hair. He frantically tried to pat it out as he danced to avoid the ball, which rolled back and forth in place, trying to immolate the ranger/priest.
Ratchis turned hard to his left and threw his last stone, but it went high and missed the sorcerous undead thing.
Derek deftly avoided another attack from one of the gnoll-wights, drawing the attack towards where Kirla waited, causing it to flinch and miss. The young tracker swung his axe down at it, but since it had not committed to the attack, it was able to pull away and avoid the blow.
Beorth edged his way to his right and joined Kirla against the other undead gnoll, slamming it’s hip with the divine vengeance of his god behind the blow. The thing’s leg crunched painfully inward, and it swayed, but stayed up.
Martin got to the top of the stairs, and put a drop of oil on his right index finger, and held a piece of flint between his ring and index finger on his left hand and watched the fight, waiting for an opening.
Jeremy proving his constantly increasing prowess with the blade, gritted his teeth and felt the sword bite into neck of the undead gnoll spell-caster and then fly clean through. The head flew into the air, spinning wildly before coming back down.
The remaining gnoll-wight turned and looked wildly around, seeing how Captain Adalar waited for an opening and Kazrack was just arriving. It took off for the shaft that was at the back of the monolith, leaping up into the air to tumble down into the inky blackness beneath. However, before it could disappear Marin spoke the final word of his spell, spinning the flint towards the oil, which grew hotter, and suddenly (and with a loud whoosh!) there appeared and arrow of flame which went hurtling at the wight. It slammed into him and it burst into fire its shriek becoming an echoing wail that was swallowed by the shaft.
“I think I killed it,” Martin said, scratching his chin.
“Why don’t you do that all the time?” Kazrack cried, with a broad smile. “I can put on my armor!” He went on to announce, but then his smile faded and he shuddered. (9)
Jeremy and Ratchis both looked at Kazrack like he was insane.
“They are not all dealt with yet,” Beorth snapped. “There are still zombies that the others were chasing.”
Ratchis’ face had looked for a second like he might crack a smile as well, but Beorth’s words fell heavily on him and he took off down the steps. Kazrack was right behind him.
Jeremy shrugged his shoulders and went after them, but Derek just sank to the floor, sighing loudly.
“I don’t feel so right,” the young man said.
Soon, all the zombies were accounted for and the rotting corpses were dragged back to large pile in front of the monolith, where Beorth covered them with oil while praying aloud to his god; soon, the bodies were a bonfire against the coming night.
Martin and Kazrack stood at the top of the shaft, looking down into the darkness.
“It goes further than I can see,” said the half-ord.
“That means it goes deep into the ground then,” Martin replied. “I don’t think we want to go down there.”
“Well, I think we need to find a way,” Ratchis said, noting that the stone was scraped and notched in three points around the shaft. He speculated there must have once been some device for lowering things. It was long gone.
Near the right stairway, Belear was speaking with Derek and Kazrack, while Beorth looked on.
”Those creatures are called ‘wights’ in the tongue of men. We dwarves do not speak our names for such things aloud. A wight is a man of evil whose very evilness and stubborn will brings them back, either that or they are made by other wights.”
“Surely it does not happen to dwarves,” Kazrack said.
“I wish it would be so,” Belear replied, looking down. “The first day shall be hard, but then it shall be seen whether your spirits can overcome their infection by the darkness of negative energy.”
“I must pray,” Kazrack said, walking off to be alone at one corner of the monolith.
“Hey, Pigger, see anything down there?” Helrahd called to Ratchis, as he walked over.
“What did you call me?” Ratchis stood up to his full height.
“Heh,” Helrahd licked his teeth and spit. “Suttin’ wrong with your ears? You sayin’ you ain’t?”
Now it was Ratchis’ turn to spit. Martin looked nervously from the dwarf to the half-orc, sweat beading on his brow. The watch-mage looked over to where Beorth stood hoping he could get his attention.
Helrahd snorted, “What? It makes you strong right? Must be okay. It’s not like I called you a goblin.”
“Let’s lower a rope down there,” Ratchis said, turning to Martin and ignoring the dwarf. “We’ll tie a lantern to the end.”
End of Session #40
-----------------------------------
Notes
(1) Kazrack cast Protection from Evil
(2) In Dwarven culture, a group of dwarves of the same lineage can be called collectively or individually by their family or clan name.
(3) Ratchis cast magic stone.
(4) Kazrack was energy drained, gaining a negative level.
(5) It said, “I will make you my slave.
(6) Friars of Nephthys as immune to all fear effects.
(7) Monks of Anubis gain the ability to call down divine vengeance instead of the ability to remove disease. This allows them to use a turning attempt to deal an additional 2d6 of damage to undead. At each level that they would gain an additional casting of remove disease, they gain one additional turning attempt per day.
(8) Had anyone spoken the gnoll tongue they would have known that it said, “…the Shadows will take you soon.” The emphasis on the third inward snort after the sixth snarl would have indicated that the word “shadow” was being used as a proper noun, or at least the gnollish equivalent of one one; something regarding special attention or being unique.
(9) Kazrack had made an oath to Krauchaar to refrain from wearing armor until he had fulfilled what he thought was a blow worthy of his place as warrior and protector.
Session #40
Part Three: The party does fierce battle with the gnoll witch-doctor wights, and learns that they have happened upon yet another mystery. . ..
“Revenge,” the former Gothanian officer, hissed again. He left a rain of bones behind him as he ambled forward, his shoulders hunched, and his lower lip ripped open and oozing yellow pus spotted with purple-black splotches.
Derek smashed the skeleton before him into shards, his fear giving him sudden vigor.
“Natan”Ahb!” Belear stepped up behind the line and called out to the father of all dwarves. “I implore you forger of our souls to allow your divine wind fill me and blow out again like the great bellows of your forge! And to cast these undead things back into whatever pit they crawled from!”
All the zombies turned to flee, their automatic motor functions reacting to the presence of a divine force.
Ratchis took this opportunity to call upon Nephthys to bless his sword with an enchantment, while Martin sent his torch flying over towards the wight-lieutenant. Jeremy however took advantage of the zombie turning from him blindly and hacked at it deeply. It fell to the ground and feeble tried to get back up though one of its legs was missing and its head was cleaved open, before it just stopped moving entirely.
Kazrack also took the time to call upon one of his gods. “Mother of Blessed Mercy, raise your shield and defend me from those who would wish me harm!” (1)
Helrahd took off after a zombie moving to the left of the monolith.
“We can no longer hold the line, there are enemies with a vantage from above!” Kazrack called out. “We must advance! Half to the left! Half to the right!”
Jolnar, Tolnar and Golnar left their positions ‘watching the back’ and jostled to get past Kirla and the others.
“Let me through!” Tolnar said, shoving past Blodnath with a grin.
“There is space over here,” Jolnar said, moving to take the place at the entrance to the clearing that Helrahd had just vacated.
“Tarnitch! (2) Don’t rush up there!” Captain Adalar barked, and the younger dwarves starled, seemingly more afraid of him than of the undead danger before them. “Let the others take care of that! You watch the back! My orders have not changed.”
“Yes, sir,” Golnar replied meekly.
Up on the monolith, the rotting gnoll shaman rose up to his full height. His bones and sinews could be heard to crack even above the din of the battle.
The thing shook its shoulders violently, moldy feathers fluttering from his cloak and shoulder regalia. It cried aloud something in the barking and laughing tongue of the gnolls, but it sounded like snorts and croaks. It pointed to Martin, who looked up in horror to see three pulsating shafts of light hurl at him, and strike him with the force mailed gloves. The watch-mage gasped in pain.
The torch dropped to the ground. The concentration on his mage hand spell was broken.
The former lieutenant shrieked as it rushed at Kazrack, who stopped short, to feel the whiff of blackened and dirty claws in front of his face.
It was the sound of the chain scraping and clanging that awoke Beorth from his mind wandering as he took in this place and this scene in awe. He could sense of the evil of this place in his pores. Though he could not remember his former life, his family, or even his companions or the details of the undead he had been trained to fight, he did not lose his sense of purpose. For a moment it had been as if Anubis himself had illuminated this place for him to see it, and not the dragging tracks of a foul wight. The paladin allowed himself a smile, and called upon his jackal-headed god to enchant his weapon, and he move steadily towards the left hand stair. He ignored the sound, which had awakened him, not taking his eyes off of the undead shaman above, but the others did not.
They could all see the nearly nine foot tall skeleton of what must have been an ogre, pull the chain from the wall as it stood, and swung the heavy shackle over its head.
Ratchis moved to follow Beorth, scooping up some pebbles from the ground and calling on Nephthys to enchant the stones as well. (3)
Martin hurried back to the relative safety of the line of dwarves, casting his shield spell in the process. He passed Derek who moved to wait just out of reach of the giant skeleton’s weapon. Looking for an opportunity to get within its reach.
Unlike Ratchis and Beorth, who moved past Kazrack to get to whom they perceived to be the leader, Jeremy moved up to support his dwarven ally and with a quick chop of his long sword, removed its right arm at the elbow. Black blood spurted and then oozed out.
The wight screeched again, and side-stepped Kazrack’s thrust of his halberd. The dwarf ‘s momentum caused him to lean overly forward losing his balance, and the wight took full advantage, clawing the dwarf across the face with its black nails.
Kazrack could feel the cold of the thing’s touch reach down into his very soul. He felt shaken, as if death had cast its shadow on him for less than a moment. (4)
Helrahd continued after the zombies on the left, hacking into one with an axe, as it still tried to flee.
The skeleton stepped forward and swung its chain at Derek, who ducked and took a swing with his battle axe at the thing’s leg. It awkwardly, but quickly lifted it up to avoid the blow.
“Heh-ma-na-neh-FAA!” the undead gnoll crocked and tossed something at the bottom of the stairs where Beorth and Ratchis had begun to climb. The half-orc stopped dead in his tracks, but the paladin sudden felt as if he were trying to walk across a puddle of molasses. His feet slipped out from him and he fell painfully on his back, smashing his helmet on the first step.
Blodnath moved with great speed, short sword in hand to help Kazrack and Jeremy finish the wight, but the thing punched the flat of the blade knocking it out of alignment. It also used the stump of its arms, still dribbling black blood, to throw off Belear’s blow with a warhammer, as the elder rune-thrower had also advanced.
Ratchis tried to carefully step past Beorth, but did not get far, slipping and falling with little grace.
“Good dwarven brothers, continue to guard the rear!” Martin the Green called to Golnar, Jolnar and Tolnar and he stepped forward, flicking his left hand towards the large skeleton facing off with Derek. “Lentus!”
The skeleton’s movements slowed and his chain lost momentum, making it a less effective weapon.
By this time, Kirla had made her way into the fray, with her flail in one hand and a shield in the other. She ducked the chain, and slammed the skeleton’s femur, sending a lengthwise crack down the bone. The undead giant teetered for a moment and then regained its balance.
Again the former lieutenant shrieked, flanked by dwarves and Jeremy it still refused to fall, and suffered another slash of Kazrack’s halberd across its chest. A rib and the flesh around it was cut away, and the things black and unbeating heart was revealed, but still: it would not fall. Its remaining arm backhanded the dwarf again, and again he felt the cold grip of its dark touch shake him down to the soul.
“Flammus spheres incendius! the gnoll atop the monolith croaked, now speaking arcane words that Martin could barely decipher, and from his hand rolled a tiny ball of fire that puffed up to about six feet in diameter and rolled down the stairs towards Ratchis.
Derek seeing that Kirla seemed to be handling the skeletal ogre just fine by herself, took the opportunity of the undead witch-doctor’s distraction and charged up the steps. However, the blow of his axe fell short, as he was shocked to see what had been out of view from below – two more of the undead gnolls.
“Two more undead gnolls up here!” Derek warned the others, fear tingeing his youthful tenor.
Captain Adalar hustled up to the base of the monolith between the stairs and slammed his great axe into the skeleton’s ribcage, cracking a few.
Beorth managed to roll out of the magically greased area and scrambled to his feet, but was still at the bottom of the stairs. He watched the ball of flamed bounced down towards his half-orc companion. Ratchis got on his hands and knees and spun himself out of the greased area, and stood. The ball singed his matted hair, but did no real damage.
Jeremy, Blodnath and Belear were a flurry of blades and hammers as they desperate tried to cut down the wight that was draining Kazrack of his very life energy, but the thing had not lost even a bit of its agility and prowess, avoiding some blows easily and using the thick crusted over hide of his shoulders and back to absorb others.
However, Kazrack, in his fury could see and opening and plunged the heavy blade of his pole-arm into the thing’s neck.
“You may have stolen my life, but now creature, I end yours!”
“I am already dead,” the thing croaked and the crumbled into a wet mass of rotten flesh and crumbling bone.
In the meantime, Helrahd was still chasing the fleeing zombies, and Baervard followed him, swords in hand.
Captain Adalar cleaved into the shoulder of the skeletal ogre with his great axe and the thing fell into many pieces. Kirla threw him a disappointed glance, having hoped to handle it on her own.
The first undead gnoll whirled around and reached out with a clawed hand, ripping into Derek’s stomach. The young man felt the claws pierce him, but worse still he felt the cold reach into his body and touch his very soul. Startled, he swung his axe down sharply, and there was a snapping sound. He had cleaved off the thing’s left hand.
Derek’s jaw dropped as the thing howled as much as in anger as in agony. The other two undead gnolls moved to join their companion.
“Uh, I could use some help up here!” Derek called through chattering teeth. He could see now that these things had flanked some kind of shaft that went straight down at the rear of the stone platform. A long flat rock like a gravestone was parallel to the front of the monolith, but behind the shaft. In many places the flat surface of the monolith though black was stained with something darker still, blood.
Now handless, the undead gnoll barked at Derek in the gnollish tongue. (5)
Beorth leapt up on the stairs, hoping to miss the greased area, and succeeding. He made his up onto the monolith.
Ratchis did not follow, but positioned himself to throw one of his stones made magical by the blessing of his goddess. It struck the undead gnoll as if it weighed fifty pounds not a few ounces, and punched a hole through its body, piercing the shoulder and shattering bone.
The witch-doctor spun around to keep abreast of his new foes, his remaining rheumy eye spinning in its partially exposed skull beneath the mask of human skin.
Martin looked from one group to another, trying to determine what they would do next and what he should do. He looked at Derek and Beorth flanking the flailing undead gnoll witch-doctor, and Ratchis tossing his stone. He saw Kirla turning to charge up the right hand stairway, while Belear and some of the other dwarves moved to help Helrahd round up the Gothian zombies.
Kazrack fell to one knee, his hand on his chest, gripping his pouch of runestones and called out to his deities. “Natan-ahb! Judge these creatures and find them wanting! They are lifeless husks! Turn them from your sight!”
But the power of this place was strong and dark, and Kazrack’s faith was not strong enough to overcome it. He bowed his head in shame.
Jeremy charged towards the monolith, and using the platform the skeleton had been chain to as a step he leapt up and caught the lip of the stone. He pulled himself up onto the monolith, and redrew his long sword, chopping down at the undead gnoll. There was more cracking bone as the thing wobbled, but then pushed away.
“Somebody called?” Jeremy quipped with a wink to Derek, who smiled despite the danger.
Kirla followed by way of the stairs, and Captain Adalar was right behind her.
By now the undead gnoll shaman had backed away from Derek, while the other two moved to cut the young tracker away from the paladin, but Kirla was now arriving for support and Jeremy was in position to attack any of them.
The undead gnoll shaman leaned backward and pointed down at Ratchis and with a snarl snorted, “Oh-ley-ah-say-fah-rah-sa-owrn!”
Ratchis felt a spell wash over him, but it had no effect. Firmly entrenched in his faith, no fear could ever enter his heart. (6)
The other two undead gnolls lurched at Derek, clawing at him with backward-bent broken fingers, and red glowing orbs in empty black eye sockets. They seemed to have pushed human teeth into their decayed flesh to decorate their bodies. It was all Derek could do to keep from wretching as he swung his axe to keep them at arm’s length.
“Anubis, show this creature your righteous anger!”
Beorth swung his quarterstaff around and called upon the divine vengeance of Anubis to smite the spell-casting abomination. (7) The thing’s head popped like a melon and spattered green and gray matter across the top of the black stone. It crumbled, its cracked head rolling into a puddle of what once had been its contents. The jaw still moved and words croaked forth in the barking tongue. (8)
Ratchis bounded up the stairs, using his momentum to chuck another of his blessed pebbles at one of the undead gnolls. The stone pierced the thing’s skull from the right and rear with a resounding crack, and emerged through its left eye, splattering Derek. The thing did not fall.
Jeremy cleaved into it with his long sword, forcing it to turn to face him and move out to his left, to keep from being surrounded, as Kirla moved in to take a wide swing at the other.
Kazrack cautiously made his way up the left staircase, while Martin braved the right.
The undead gnoll that moved away croaked some arcane words, and soon another sphere of flame was bouncing and rolling towards Ratchis. The hulking half-orc was busy getting his sword and tried to move out its way too late. The flames licked up his clothing, and singed his hair. He frantically tried to pat it out as he danced to avoid the ball, which rolled back and forth in place, trying to immolate the ranger/priest.
Ratchis turned hard to his left and threw his last stone, but it went high and missed the sorcerous undead thing.
Derek deftly avoided another attack from one of the gnoll-wights, drawing the attack towards where Kirla waited, causing it to flinch and miss. The young tracker swung his axe down at it, but since it had not committed to the attack, it was able to pull away and avoid the blow.
Beorth edged his way to his right and joined Kirla against the other undead gnoll, slamming it’s hip with the divine vengeance of his god behind the blow. The thing’s leg crunched painfully inward, and it swayed, but stayed up.
Martin got to the top of the stairs, and put a drop of oil on his right index finger, and held a piece of flint between his ring and index finger on his left hand and watched the fight, waiting for an opening.
Jeremy proving his constantly increasing prowess with the blade, gritted his teeth and felt the sword bite into neck of the undead gnoll spell-caster and then fly clean through. The head flew into the air, spinning wildly before coming back down.
The remaining gnoll-wight turned and looked wildly around, seeing how Captain Adalar waited for an opening and Kazrack was just arriving. It took off for the shaft that was at the back of the monolith, leaping up into the air to tumble down into the inky blackness beneath. However, before it could disappear Marin spoke the final word of his spell, spinning the flint towards the oil, which grew hotter, and suddenly (and with a loud whoosh!) there appeared and arrow of flame which went hurtling at the wight. It slammed into him and it burst into fire its shriek becoming an echoing wail that was swallowed by the shaft.
“I think I killed it,” Martin said, scratching his chin.
“Why don’t you do that all the time?” Kazrack cried, with a broad smile. “I can put on my armor!” He went on to announce, but then his smile faded and he shuddered. (9)
Jeremy and Ratchis both looked at Kazrack like he was insane.
“They are not all dealt with yet,” Beorth snapped. “There are still zombies that the others were chasing.”
Ratchis’ face had looked for a second like he might crack a smile as well, but Beorth’s words fell heavily on him and he took off down the steps. Kazrack was right behind him.
Jeremy shrugged his shoulders and went after them, but Derek just sank to the floor, sighing loudly.
“I don’t feel so right,” the young man said.
Soon, all the zombies were accounted for and the rotting corpses were dragged back to large pile in front of the monolith, where Beorth covered them with oil while praying aloud to his god; soon, the bodies were a bonfire against the coming night.
Martin and Kazrack stood at the top of the shaft, looking down into the darkness.
“It goes further than I can see,” said the half-ord.
“That means it goes deep into the ground then,” Martin replied. “I don’t think we want to go down there.”
“Well, I think we need to find a way,” Ratchis said, noting that the stone was scraped and notched in three points around the shaft. He speculated there must have once been some device for lowering things. It was long gone.
Near the right stairway, Belear was speaking with Derek and Kazrack, while Beorth looked on.
”Those creatures are called ‘wights’ in the tongue of men. We dwarves do not speak our names for such things aloud. A wight is a man of evil whose very evilness and stubborn will brings them back, either that or they are made by other wights.”
“Surely it does not happen to dwarves,” Kazrack said.
“I wish it would be so,” Belear replied, looking down. “The first day shall be hard, but then it shall be seen whether your spirits can overcome their infection by the darkness of negative energy.”
“I must pray,” Kazrack said, walking off to be alone at one corner of the monolith.
“Hey, Pigger, see anything down there?” Helrahd called to Ratchis, as he walked over.
“What did you call me?” Ratchis stood up to his full height.
“Heh,” Helrahd licked his teeth and spit. “Suttin’ wrong with your ears? You sayin’ you ain’t?”
Now it was Ratchis’ turn to spit. Martin looked nervously from the dwarf to the half-orc, sweat beading on his brow. The watch-mage looked over to where Beorth stood hoping he could get his attention.
Helrahd snorted, “What? It makes you strong right? Must be okay. It’s not like I called you a goblin.”
“Let’s lower a rope down there,” Ratchis said, turning to Martin and ignoring the dwarf. “We’ll tie a lantern to the end.”
End of Session #40
-----------------------------------
Notes
(1) Kazrack cast Protection from Evil
(2) In Dwarven culture, a group of dwarves of the same lineage can be called collectively or individually by their family or clan name.
(3) Ratchis cast magic stone.
(4) Kazrack was energy drained, gaining a negative level.
(5) It said, “I will make you my slave.
(6) Friars of Nephthys as immune to all fear effects.
(7) Monks of Anubis gain the ability to call down divine vengeance instead of the ability to remove disease. This allows them to use a turning attempt to deal an additional 2d6 of damage to undead. At each level that they would gain an additional casting of remove disease, they gain one additional turning attempt per day.
(8) Had anyone spoken the gnoll tongue they would have known that it said, “…the Shadows will take you soon.” The emphasis on the third inward snort after the sixth snarl would have indicated that the word “shadow” was being used as a proper noun, or at least the gnollish equivalent of one one; something regarding special attention or being unique.
(9) Kazrack had made an oath to Krauchaar to refrain from wearing armor until he had fulfilled what he thought was a blow worthy of his place as warrior and protector.
Last edited:
Pillars of Hercules
First Post
Nemm this rawks!
Nemm, this rawks! I know I'm just repeating the subject line, but, hey, what else can I say?
Nemm, this rawks! I know I'm just repeating the subject line, but, hey, what else can I say?
Similar Threads
D&D General
Hard Moves (in D&D)