PHDungeons Nentir Vale homebrew

[PHDungeon]

Bella crafts a suite of Impostors armor...

I tighten the final strap on my armor and walk up to the mirror eying it critically. Deryl sits on my bed idly playing with her dagger having asked me to help her study it and it’s unique properties. I agreed if only because it bears the mark on my back as well as the mark that has suddenly appeared on her wrist. For a moment I wonder if this is some kind of contagion among sorceress’, something carried by Deryl’s dagger but dismiss the thought, this is not the time for conjecture.

“Let’s see if this works”, I say more to myself than to her. Upon finding the components and residuum in Nimorzan’s study I had been elated. Before Deryl arrived I had spent the day meticulously copying the ritual from Flagg’s ritual book into my own, my first ritual incidentally. After that I had laid out my leather armor and began the process of applying the magical lattice to the material with a few modifications of my own. I felt a smug sense of satisfaction when the lattice held.

It was then I noticed the state I was in. So focused upon my work I had not looked in a mirror. Cobwebs caught in my hair, my body covered in dust, and my face and hands smeared with ink. I forced myself to take a bath before testing the new armor. It was during my bath that Lazlo loudly announced the arrival of Lady Androsax, I wonder if she had told him to call her that or if he had done it on his own.

Now we arrive at the moment of truth.

Concentrating I turn my armor into a stunning red dress. I make it backless to show off my mark and twirl in front of the mirror. I am pleased to hear Deryl gasp at the change. Quickly I change the dress to the clothes of a nobleman and my form to that of Deryl’s own brother. I stumble and make stupid faces in front of the mirror repeating some of Derren’s more famous attempts at diplomacy. In another moment I am a beggar with simple pant and tunic, then Bjorn in pious robes, Starke in his noble guise, a simple dwarven blacksmith and finally myself once again in my leather armor. I eye it critically then smile to Deryl.

“What do you think of my first creation little sister?”

 

[PHDungeon]

A rare journal from the perspective of Torfinn.

This journal is mainly flavor and doesn't cover any events that happened during our previous game session.

Torfinn and Absalon (Torfinn's newly acquired steed).

Torfinn’s eyes stayed locked on the over-cast sky above as he marched through the castle followed by Lord Markelhay’s short and chubby attendant, Brun. The ground was muddy and the air was thick with warning signs of an oncoming storm. Brun had tried to engage the silent man with idle pleasantries, but Torfinn didn’t have much to say other than the customary greeting.

“Here we are Master Torfinn” , Brun said nervously. “Lord Markelhay had wished to be present for your visit, but he’s been very busy since the Orc attacks. Our Lord thanks you for the generous banner commission and bids you the best of luck in your selection. Please this way.”

Torfinn felt a tinge of trepidation as the panicked screams thundered out from the stables. Slowly he made he made his way inside, peering anxiously at the horses that surrounded him. For some reason, animals feared him instinctively; it was an odd-phenomena. The sudden kick of a frightened burgundy hunter stole Torfinn from his thought. He quickly ducked and stepped back with an audible sigh. “I don’t get along well with animals as you can see..” he mumbled in-between heavy breaths.

Brun heard Torfinn say as much before, but this was a little more severe than he had expected. In truth, he never witnessed the animals so spooked, perhaps ‘The rumoured Lightning-man’ was more than just fancy talk. He didn’t want to think about the consequences of not finding Torfinn a steed, Markhelhay’s instructions were explicit. “Master Torfinn…?”

Torfinn continued to walk down the path that divided the roofed structure in two with horse pens on either side. Half of the pens at the back were vacant, save one. A black-shape stirred in the last pen, it didn’t seem to take on the frenzied wailing of the other beasts. It simply watched as the tall man approached with narrowed eyes.

Brun squealed in alarm, “Master Torfinn…!” but Torfinn was already stretching his arm out to the horse’s head.

“Master Torfinn…!!!” Brun screamed so loud his chubby cheeks wobbled.

Torfinn turned to look at Brun when a jolt of pain shot down his arm, he snapped his head back at the black-steed to see his fore-arm locked between it’s teeth. “Damned thing” he mumbled before saying a word of power that activated a static surge; it was only a little shock but it did the trick in getting his arm free.

The black horse stomped his hoof on the ground with a derisive snort. Eyeing the man with even more contempt.

Brun doubled over twice in apology, “I’m so sorry Master Torfinn!”

Torfinn shrugged, “I’ll take him.”

It was hard for Brun not to yelp in surprise, “WHAT? That spiteful bastard!!!?”

Torfinn smiled while eyeing the creature, “Aye, I can work with spite.”

 

[PHDungeon]

A song written by Deryl's player that is circulating the taverns of Fallcrest in refrence to her brother Derren.

Beware the man o’ Androsax

Beware the man o’ Androsax,
Who’s agile ankled and deft o’ sword.
Hist’ry made of him a lord?
Oh beware the man o’ Androsax.

Beware the man o’ Androsax,
Who’s sharp of tongue but dull of wit,
But lately weaned from mother’s .
Oh beware the man o’ Androsax.

Beware the man o’ Androsax,
Tho’ stout of heart, tho’ strong and hale.
The poor man can no’ hold his ale.
So beware the man o’ Androsax

Beware the man o’ Androsax,
Who’s beastial-bent perverts the night.
He’s seeded maids and trolls alike.
So beware the man o’ Androsax.

Beware the man o’ Androsax,
Who’s plundered orcs and shown no fear,
Just, it’s said, to bloody his spear.
So beware the man o’ Androsax

Beware the man o’ Androsax,
Who wrestles all be-lathered in grease
Wanton of his opponent’s ‘creese’.
So beware the man of Androsax.

Beware the man o’ Androsax,
Who acts the fool and thinks it brave,
He’s sure to find an early grave.
So beware the man o’ Androsax.

 

[PHDungeon]

This is a lengthy journal from Derren Androsax detailing the events of our most recent session.

The PCs:

Derren: level 7 human male fighter
Bjorn: level 7 human male cleric of Thor
Bella: level 7 changeling rogue/sorcerer
Deryl: level 6 human female sorcerer (wild magic)
Torfinn: level 6 deva male Invoker

Dear Corvin,

This morning, Bjorn and I finally cracked open the wall leading to deeper caverns below Kamroth manor. We set out to explore several large caverns, haunted by wheels of the dead, suspended like the windmills and scarecrows of some forgotten tribe of primitives. Fortunately, these dead were resting peacefully, which seems all too often not to be the case in this world.

We finally came across a chamber rife with pools of black “water” – the same foul, putrescent flow of evil that we first witnessed outside of the Temple of the Elemental Eye deep in the Ogrefist Hills. It had cracked the walls from some unknown source, surrounding a stone dais in the center of the room like a moat. The dais itself was laden with a heaping mound of skulls. Yet before we could investigate or form a solid plan, ghoulish creatures were upon us. Some rose up from the apparently shallow pools dripping with the foul black liquid. They began hurling ichorous, necrotic filth from the pools. Others loped towards us in their deranged shuffling gate. As Torfinn blasted them with lightning and Bella dropped one with her bolt, I leapt onto the dais to occupy several of the ghouls. Bjorn and Torfinn called on the Skanzi gods to drive them back, while Deryl managed to keep several ambushers at bay with her spells. I nearly died when one of them slivered me with its filthy nails. The gash turned grey on my skin, and in a wash of chill and nausea, I darkened. Then my friends – forgiving me my brashness, I think – hurled spell and bolt upon my enemies, and I managed to recover my senses and roll away. By this time my allies had vastly thinned out the ranks of our enemies, and it didn’t take long to slay the remaining horrors. When the battle ended I realized that I wasn’t the only one who had suffered. Even Deryl, who normally does a good job of staying out of harm’s way, had been scathed by the undead. We took some time to rest, and Bjorn used his divine healing powers to help us tend our wounds.

With the undead dispatched, we began a more thorough investigation of the cave. Each of the skulls that had been sitting on the dais had a glyph etched into its forehead. According to Deryl there was no magic in the skulls, so I started handling them. Many had the symbol of the elemental eye, but we discovered a number of skulls with other strange symbols: a barbed spiral, and several inverted letters. While I was examining the skulls, I noted that there was a stone trap door set into the dais. We moved the skulls out of the way to fully reveal the portal, and we discovered it was circular, constructed of stone and some ten feet in diameter. It would take great strength to move, but I was confident that I could do it with Bjorn’s aid. However, we decided to post pone this endeavour, for there was still more to investigate above.

At the far end of the room was a ten foot wide passage that had clearly been carved into the wall of the otherwise natural cavern. Set in small alcoves above the tunnel’s entrance, were three more golden skulls – of animals this time. However, unlike the other golden skulls we’d discovered in our previous adventures, these one’s were not magical. The hallway was quite long, and its walls were etched with dozens of glyphs, similar to the ones that we’d encountered on the skulls, but there were others as well, all unholy. The end of the hall opened up into another chamber that the light from our sunrods could only just begin to illuminate. The symbols in the hall made me more than a little uneasy. They were clearly blasphemous. Still, Bjorn and I pressed forward. We didn’t make it far before the glyphs began to glow. One of them erupted in a blast of fire, but Bjorn’s shield Flamedrinker protected the two of us from much of the flame. I retreated back to my companions, while Bjorn remained behind; I presume he wanted to see if he could determine a means of dealing with the glyphs. I watched as more of them activated. Bella and Deryl were also watching closely. They had quickly determined that there were six different types of glyphs and each one had a different effect. Lightning, acid and fire were all seen hurled at Bjorn, but he was alert now, and did his best to dodge the effects, using his shield whenever possible to deflect the attacks. Torfinn and I decided to make a run for the far room, and we bolted down the hallway. Another glyph assaulted me, and Torfinn was scorched by acid, but we made it to the far chamber. Bjorn hurried after us, leaving Bella and Deryl to stand at the entrance of the hall and watch us.

The three of us had entered into a secluded chamber. Dominating much of the floor space was some huge vaguely manlike form that was completely cocooned in the black ichor, which had here hardened into solid form. The source of the ichor appeared to be several dark stones that sat on the ground forming a circle around the unsettling form. Each of the stones had a single rune inscribed on it, and it was either the elemental eye or the barbed spiral. A part of me very much wanted to pick up one of the stones, but even I could sense that they thrummed with magic, and it appeared that they were part of some ancient ritual. Bjorn suspected that their purpose might be to bind whatever entity might be lurking under the hardened ichor.

The chamber itself was constructed in the shape great silo, and its walls were riddled with burial nooks that held dozens of ancient skeletal corpses. We had little time to take all this in before we discovered that this crypt was haunted by vile wraiths. They came at flying at us, trying to drain us of our life force. Each attack would cause me to feel so weak I could barely stand or swing my sword. I was thankful that my blade was enchanted, but it was still relatively ineffectual, for it would just pass through the vile creatures, causing them minimal real harm. There were five wraiths in total, and two of them were different from the other three. These two were constantly gibbering maddening whispers that burned at my mind and threatened to make me go mad. With lures and feints and more divine power, Torfinn and Bjorn were able to cast the wraiths back into hell. Bella and Deryl stayed back blasting them from a distance, and even I was able to meekly cut through their forms from time to time. Soon our foes had been destroyed thanks in no small part to the radiant powers that Torfinn and Bjorn had been able to muster.

We debated about what to do about the entity on the floor– and wisely, I think, thought to leave it undisturbed and possibly return in the future if we could gather more information. There is still the deeper chamber, and strange evidence of the work of elemental creatures, titans and their primordial masters – but we have yet to fully explore the deeper levels.

These events leave me riddled with questions and strange desires. The most pressing mystery is that of Torfinn. While Bella wants to run shop, and Deryl play house, our friend with the golden skin seems tied to the fate of the world. Bjorn is content to smash evil and infidelity with his hammer wherever, whenever, yet his charge is full of stranger destinies. Blackness pollutes the land. An ancient god tied to the elemental chaos, the abyss and the purest evil seems to be stirring up the primordials and their servants. Like a cascade of fell fury, primordials push titans to stir dragons to whip orcs upon our heels. Gods walk the earth and slink their blades in the fates of men. Rao sings to me, yet my heart is with the Skanzi gods. Asmodeans run amuck even as far as Fallcrest, and the man who would rule the vale must sleep in the pig pen for some unremembered folly on the battlefield.

These are interesting times.

Your brother,

Derren

 

[PHDungeon]

Derren's player was away for our most recent session, so we had Derren take a trip to Grimsburg to go pay a visit to his beaux Briannah Sutursdottr (High Archavist of Skaldsholme library). This is his journal.

Dear Deryl,

Hope you are well. Mother and father are in good health, and the gold and enchanted armour I brought back from the Vale have eased our debts. Yargo seemed especially pleased with the hide, and I hope the gold reaches Strake soon enough.

Mother was upset that you were left behind in the vale, but I concocted some tale about Bella being a former chaperon to one of the Sturgleson daughters, and she seemed relieved. Corvin remembered Bella’s attitude and concluded that you were in good, if somewhat stern, measured and staid hands!

I am writing to request that you allow myself and an acquaintance a room in the new Inn. Somewhere out of sight that she can conduct more shadowy research. I think you can imagine who I mean. Things have gotten dangerous for her in Grimsburg, as she has stumbled upon some important research concerning the Elemental Eye.

Let me know if a room could be drawn. I am happy to pay for it, and understand if you would rather me spend another night in the barn.

Your brother,

Derren

From A Brief and Annotated History of Grimsburg and Environs, by Geron the Prodifigent, 877

... and while Derren was not to be instrumental in preventing calamity to the same degree as his companions, it is argued by many sages that his work in Grimsburg, most notably the ‘Declaration & Proclamation’, was to give the future heroes an edge in preventing the great sundering of the North ... Had Derren been prevented from nailing his decree to the doors of Skaldsholme, the Scarlet Stone Academy and the Temples of Odin and Rao, not to mention spending a small fortune mailing it to various rulers in the South, who knows what could have happened?

To All Who Live Free,

Let it be known to scholars, priests and rulers of fair and noble heart that a great danger is upon us. One of the primordials of old is being stirred from its sleep. Gods and their followers must unite or face the fall of the world, the end times known locally as Ragnarak. I am no prophet or doomsayer, I seek no reknown or reward. I am a scion of a small house from out of Grimsburg, and in my travels across the Nentir Vale, my companions and I came upon derelict tombs with tyrants slumbering beneath a symbol: the flaming elemental eye.

Have you heard of the golden skulls? Do your history books speak of murders unleashing the beast? Come now – followers of Rao, learned Asmodeans, brave thralls of the Skanzi gods all – all of you know this! All the sages have heard tell these tales. Verify for yourselves the murders of Grimsburg. Listen to the sages of Skaldholme. And at last, send only your bravest and most pure of heart to the Androsax Manor, deep in the Nentir Vale. I will be waiting for you.

Of course you may also do nothing, as you may have done so many times before.

Derren Androsax

 

[PHDungeon]

Some thoughts by Bjorn Thorskirk, from game session 16

Re-construction of the Temple continues, there have been both advances and set backs. Lord Markelhay has given us additional funding however several tradesmen were scared off by the events of the feast night, and Torfinn's explosion. Lady Markelhay came by with a new Paladin of Rao, a striking young woman, originally from Fallcrest, who had just returned from her training in the south. A shame that a true daughter of the north should embrace the southern gods so. She talked of greater cooperation between the churches, and I hope it may be so, but I fear the centuries of conflict will not be easily overcome. I do see the need as the north teams with those who oppose the good of both pantheons. We have at heart much we could agree on. I suppose it is easier to despise the one who closely resembles you, yet rejects your beliefs, than the totally alien. For me the major sticking point is their stance on magic. Magic in and of itself is not evil it is the use to which it is put that determines that. A sword in the hands of a paladin or a psychopath is the same sword but whether it defends or destroys is up to the hand that wields it. Should evil practitioners be rooted out? Certainly! However proficiency in magic does not make one automatically evil.

The Altar in the Temple has been restored and we used it to gain some guidance on the entity trapped beneath the city. Asking if we should free it, we received a "no". Asking in what direction we should quest to aid Trofinn we were directed "up". It seems more research is required, but we now have a little more information from which to go. The ancient structures below the city are associated with the flaming eye cult. Darren has returned to Grimsburg, to do some research and pay off debts to Starke, though I suspect all he really wishes to research is what's is beneath Brianna's skirts. Torfinn has acquired a new mount, and an ill tempered beast it is, I guess hanging around me he has got used to the type.

Deryl approached us earlier apparently the Asmodean's are planing a ritual for the night and it will be a good chance to root them out. One of the serving girls approached Deryl, informing her of the ceremony saying she was afraid. I am not entirely trusting of her and suggested we set some guards to “protect” her while we followed the cultists. Bella would take on the girl's form and lead us to them through the use of her familiar.

We had a general idea of where the ceremony would take place in the catacombs beneath the city but as the network is fairly extensive we were not sure exactly where. Deryl, Torfinn and I headed out to find a place to hide a little ways in from the entrance. It was as well we did, for it was a trap, and we arrived before it was set, and as a result were able to ambush the ambushers. It was close fought, and I admit I missed Darren in the combat. It is not good to be the only melee combatant. To our surprise we learned that one of the two serving girls working for Deryl had been replaced by a Changeling, but Bella handily slew her in the catacombs with her crossbow. Many of the movers and shakers of Fallcrest had been members of the cult. When we done they were no more.

We reported our findings and turned Gwen, the treacherous serving girl, over to Lord Markelhay for execution. Lord Markelhay was shocked at the depth of the cult, but having rooted it out he was able to legally seize their assets. A double win for him, a dangerous element eliminated and gains for the “town”. For our efforts, we were suitably rewarded and the townsfolk got the spectical of a public execution. It should also help our standing in the town and with good fortune increase the Skanzi Gods following.

 

[PHDungeon]

Session 16: Ambush

I am a little concerned about how recent events will affect my standing with the party. It has been a long time since I have met another of my kind and I must admit that most such encounters are unpleasant. Our ability to assume the form of any humanoid and mimic them turns many of us to evil. It is too easy to achieve wealth and standing by assuming the form of someone that has what we need. When we are inevitably discovered it is usually a simple matter to acquire a new identity and slip away. It is an unfortunate reality that most of the members of my race are evil. Those that know we exist harbor a natural prejudice towards us, hence why we keep our true natures secret.

My day started with a summons from the Lady Androsax upon discovering Asmodean cultists among her staff. She found this out when one of them, Gwen, confessed and told her that she had been forced into the cult during her time as a servant to Lord Kamroth, she insisted that she had never really followed them. The maid saw within us a chance at escape her situation by removing the cultists that remained in Fallcrest. Not a single one of us bought the story (Derren wasn’t there having returned to Grimsburg).

The maid suggested that we follow her and the other servant Cheri, who according to Gwen, was a true follower of the cult to the next meeting so that we might ambush them. None of us trusted her, and we also felt that her plan was a foolhardy one, we quickly came up with one of our own.

I sat with Gwen and learned all I needed to know to assume her identity. In the meantime, since we knew the basic location from Gwen (which was some of the caves in the escarpment between high and low town), Bjorn, Torfinn and Deryl made their way to the caves early. We kept Gwen separated from Cheri and under guard. The girl whined, but she was ignored. Cheri remained in her room all day, saying she was sick. We found this curious, but were too busy with our own plans to investigate. Besides this voluntary solitary confinement worked to our advantage.

After dark, when the time came to leave, I went to Cheri’s room in the guise of Gwen and found a “miraculously” healed and well Cheri. She took the lead and we stealthily made our way to the caves. I almost slipped when Cheri revealed herself to be a changeling almost with her first breath. As soon as we had left the manor she told me that she had taken care of Cheri and left her corpse in the room. She then asked me if the heroes had bought my story.

It turns out that the real Cheri was not one of the cult, and this doppelganger had assumed her identity. It appeared that Gwen was the true cultist; which came as no surprise. Their plan was simple. Lead us to the caves where an ambush would be waiting, and then use their superior numbers and the element of surprise to overpower us.

At first I was not sure how this new information would affect our plan, so I played my role. Upon entering the caves I could hear the sounds of battle. A trio of Halflings, who were presumably members of the cult had stumbled across the place where Torfinn, Bjorn and Deryl had be hiding. Bjorn had led an attack and the fight had just begun. I quietly removed my weapon from my bag of holding and shot at the rather surprised doppelganger. Unfortunately, she turned on me and after the attack and disappeared from my sight.

I stepped back and allowed the shadows to envelop and protect me. The sounds of battle had alerted the more of the cultists to our presence. These ones had been setting up some kind of net trap for us deeper in the caves, and instead of sticking with their plan, they came running to investigate. They were surprised to see that we had discovered their treachery, and I was able to pick and choose between several easy targets and remove them one by one. The fighting was short but fierce. Bjorn had to assume the role of the front line defender, and he took several nasty blows. Fortunately, though the cultists were many in number, they were not well trained or equipped. It wasn’t long before all the cultists were dead, including the imp that had been a concern of Deryl’s. We did not risk searching the remainder of their lair.

Upon returning we reported our findings to Lord Markalhay, needless to say he was grateful and took our recommendation of making an example of Gwen to the remaining cultists. Her execution was a spectacle, a simultaneous stoning and burning, suggested by Torfinn. It was a decidedly evil suggestion…I will have to watch him more closely.

 

[PHDungeon]

Session 17: Dungeons and Dragons

Dear Victor,

I have started settling in with Androsax’s group in Fallcrest. After taking care of a siege involving tribes of orcs we have become local heroes and earned this cities trust. Having befriended the local wizard I am now studying the intricacies of ritual casting. It has been given me easy access to arcane resources and soon, I will be able to return to Grimmsburg at will.

Firstly, you will want to know that we have no new leads on Torfinn. We cast a Hand of Fate ritual but will need to think better on our questions. We asked in what direction to quest in order to help Torfinn and we were told…Up. These rituals are so frustratingly vague. As there are many other things that need our attention, it was decided to search for answers at another time after we have more information. Both Torfinn and Bjorn stay in the temple that was ruined in the battle against the orcs. They are rebuilding it and both are working towards reviving the power of the Aesir gods in the North.

As I have told you before, a Dragon now resides in Fallcrest, Kasanth. Forced out of her lair by a Red dragon who had been disposed by a White dragon who is rising to the power of a god. My companions are eager to rise to a sufficient level to take on this threat. I do not share their altruism or their obvious insanity, for now our arrangement is lucrative for me, so I remain with them.

Kasanth has a problem with her Kobold slaves, they are disappearing from deep within the silver mines she resides in. She asked us to discover the problem’s source and take care of it. It is obvious that the dragon will become the true power in Fallcrest and since everyone is making this town their home having its dragon protector owe us a favour is a rare opportunity.

I will write again once we have returned.

Bella

 

[PHDungeon]

Dear Corvin,

The torchlight flickers off the stone flues of the grey halls we are camped in for the night. We travelled northwest of Fallcrest at the request of Kasinth the iron dragon- to aid her kobold minions with some mysterious threat below their middling silver mine. The evening with the little shitscales was pleasant enough – I even got to recline on one of them for a while. Their “king” had a golden-skull as part of his “royal regalia”, and I am beginning to suspect these icons of the end times have been in circulation for eons, imitated and copied by the primitive folk who have fallen from the heights of some doomed progenitor civilization. Fortunately, the skull was inert, and it was not necessary for us to take action against the little creatures.

The kobold king pointed us to the depths, and our tiny guides lead us on a trail of white furred beasts that had been slaughtering and capturing their miners. They were camped like savages in a deep dwarven enclosure, a barbican of sorts– its entrance set with glyphs of the elemental eye.

Our first struggle was with these primitive, relentless white-furred bear folk, whose women dropped stones on us from murder holes above us, while the savage males battered us with clubs and stone axes. They were accompanied by big, nasty spiders with poison fangs, capable of leaping great distances The sharp eyes of Deryl pointed out some more of their flanking, loping companions that I was able to hold off as the rest of the party levied bolt, lightning, spell and hammer at our foes. Our battle was hard fought, but eventually the rank beasts were dead at our feet, along with their arachnid companions. We left the womenfolk disabled and pressed through a large set of double doors that led us deeper into the complex.

The first room we found presented three parallel passage-ways set in the far wall, each suggestive of traps. Bella managed to convince us that in her delicate position, it would be unwise for her to scout ahead. We wondered at this, and as the discussion wore on, and on, I decided to leap across a grate. To the cackling pleasures of the dark engineer of the foul place, the floor of the hall began to pivot and I was deposited in a citric pit – but not before spying the hulking forms of undead and a strange statue of a ocular, tentacled worm in a spacious room that the hall opened into. My friends magicked me out of the trap, but not before I had felt the agonizing pain of its acids.

Having discerned the nature of the trapped hall, Deryl managed to use the pivot to our advantage. She used her magic to lure one of the undead hulks in the far chamber onto the deadly side of the see-saw. The floor promptly tilted, depositing the ogre sized undead into the acid pit below. We fought our way into the room, slaying another undead hulk and a horde of ancient skeletons that stepped out of upright sarcophagi lining the side walls of the chamber. Yet while we were in the heat of battle, more misfortune struck, and the statue began to emit a poisonous fumes. Its toxic gases burned at our lungs before we managed to exit out of another glyph trapped door.

I am now writing in the evening by lantern-light, unsure if we will survive this place. Huge stone blocks fell in front of the entranceway shortly after we entered, sealing us in these deadly halls, and now finding a way out is our foremost priority. This place seems to have no purpose other than to serve as some sort of malicious death trap, though there is little evidence to show there have been many unfortunate enough to find themselves trapped in this hell. As for its maker, I suspect a creature of equal parts genius and depravity, one whose spirit even now laughs at us for our folly of pursuing a quest to rid the world of golden skulls, elemental eyes, and the myriad enthusiasts of Ragnarak.

Your Brother,

Derren

 

[PHDungeon]

I hope to have some journals from our most recent session- session #18 coming up soon. I am pleased to announce that session #18 features our first and long, long overdue PC fatality.