The Age of Worms - Morrus' Campaign - Finished 6th August!!
- Thread starter Eccles
- Start date
Eccles
Ragged idiot in a trilby.
We didn’t see Morgan for about a day after that. He turned up in the Feral Dog the following evening; ink smudges on his cheek and a satisfied smile on his face. He also had a letter clutched in one hand, which he flattened on the beer-soaked table and read out to us.
“Dear Morgan,
You don’t know me, but you may have heard of me. My name is Allustan, and I am an old associate of your mother’s. I hope that she is well?
I have heard that you and your friends recently encountered a strange phenomenon while up at the Old Observatory. From the sounds of it, your discoveries may well tie in to certain evidence I have recently unearthed.
My research has indicated that there is increasing evidence of strange undead creatures infested with tiny green worms stalking the hills south of Diamond Lake. I worry that these creatures could prove a threat to the township, and wonder if you and your friends would be willing to pursue the leads I have uncovered so far?
My studies indicate that the worms might somehow be connected to an ancient temple hidden beneath the earth. According to my calculations, the temple is located beneath a copper mine owned by Ragnolin Dourstone. I do not know whether Dourstone himself is connected to the temple – or even if the temple is currently occupied.
I would suggest that my brother, the merchant Balabar Smenk, may be the key to gaining access to Dourstone’s mine. It is well known that the two are bitter rivals. Neither is trustworthy, bit their animosity may be enough to make Balabar open to a temporary alliance.
I know little about the layout of the mine or the temple, bit my research indicates that there may be some kind of “elevator” within the mines. I believe that this is how one could access the temple itself.
Allustan”
“Dear Morgan,
You don’t know me, but you may have heard of me. My name is Allustan, and I am an old associate of your mother’s. I hope that she is well?
I have heard that you and your friends recently encountered a strange phenomenon while up at the Old Observatory. From the sounds of it, your discoveries may well tie in to certain evidence I have recently unearthed.
My research has indicated that there is increasing evidence of strange undead creatures infested with tiny green worms stalking the hills south of Diamond Lake. I worry that these creatures could prove a threat to the township, and wonder if you and your friends would be willing to pursue the leads I have uncovered so far?
My studies indicate that the worms might somehow be connected to an ancient temple hidden beneath the earth. According to my calculations, the temple is located beneath a copper mine owned by Ragnolin Dourstone. I do not know whether Dourstone himself is connected to the temple – or even if the temple is currently occupied.
I would suggest that my brother, the merchant Balabar Smenk, may be the key to gaining access to Dourstone’s mine. It is well known that the two are bitter rivals. Neither is trustworthy, bit their animosity may be enough to make Balabar open to a temporary alliance.
I know little about the layout of the mine or the temple, bit my research indicates that there may be some kind of “elevator” within the mines. I believe that this is how one could access the temple itself.
Allustan”
Eccles
Ragged idiot in a trilby.
Intrigued by this letter, we finished our drinks, and went to the home of the most powerful mage in the town. After knocking at the door, an elderly man answered and (after examining the letter carefully), led us into a fine old drawing room, lined with expensive-looking paintings. After enquiring after our needs, he brought a tray of nimby and left us.
A few minutes later, the doors to the drawing room flew open to reveal a man in his 50s, his head crested with a shock of white hair. His greeting was fulsome and energetic, and he began by handing a gift to Morgan to give to his mother, who had once been one of Allustan’s apprentices.
In return, Morgan discussed matters mystical with the mage. The papers we had taken from the Old Observatory were handed to Allustan, together with the ‘necrofirge’ – the tiny green worm we found in Filge’s bedchamber.
Allustan asked us if we had heard of the ‘Nethertome of Trask’; although Morgan and I had both heard mention of the book, neither of us knew much of it.
“It speaks of Vecna,” boomed Allustan. “Not only Vecna, but also his legacy, in the form of the walking death Kyuss. However, the book also speaks of an older source of evil, ‘The Way of The Ebon Triad”.”
According to Allustan, this ‘Ebon Triad’ was related to the creation of the ‘Age of Worms’, which would be brought on by the rising of a three-formed supreme deity of evil. The formation of this supreme being would be assisted by the ‘Faceless One’, a being who would be involved in the ascension of this new god.
Allusten’s research also led him to believe that this was related to the new worm-infested undead, and that it could be related to the rumour of an underground ‘cathedral’ which was used by Vecna in aeons past – before his ascension to godhood or even lichedom.
We thanked the mage, and were impressed by his obvious desire to assist the town and defend it from magical dangers. He gave us a number of gifts to assist us in our endeavours – a letter of introduction to his brother; a suit of enchanted mithril armour (which was taken gleefully by Flynn); a ring of protection (which we all agreed should be taken by Torvig the cleric to help protect him from the many fights he was finding himself in since our recent adventures began), and a wooden box of complicated multi-coloured inks to help Morgan with his spellcasting.
.oOo.
This meant that Morgan locked himself into his rooms again for 3 days whilst he used up the precious inks to scribe more morbid spells from the book taken from Filge into his own spellbook. We spent the intervening time as best we knew how. In a bar, naturally enough.
A few minutes later, the doors to the drawing room flew open to reveal a man in his 50s, his head crested with a shock of white hair. His greeting was fulsome and energetic, and he began by handing a gift to Morgan to give to his mother, who had once been one of Allustan’s apprentices.
In return, Morgan discussed matters mystical with the mage. The papers we had taken from the Old Observatory were handed to Allustan, together with the ‘necrofirge’ – the tiny green worm we found in Filge’s bedchamber.
Allustan asked us if we had heard of the ‘Nethertome of Trask’; although Morgan and I had both heard mention of the book, neither of us knew much of it.
“It speaks of Vecna,” boomed Allustan. “Not only Vecna, but also his legacy, in the form of the walking death Kyuss. However, the book also speaks of an older source of evil, ‘The Way of The Ebon Triad”.”
According to Allustan, this ‘Ebon Triad’ was related to the creation of the ‘Age of Worms’, which would be brought on by the rising of a three-formed supreme deity of evil. The formation of this supreme being would be assisted by the ‘Faceless One’, a being who would be involved in the ascension of this new god.
Allusten’s research also led him to believe that this was related to the new worm-infested undead, and that it could be related to the rumour of an underground ‘cathedral’ which was used by Vecna in aeons past – before his ascension to godhood or even lichedom.
We thanked the mage, and were impressed by his obvious desire to assist the town and defend it from magical dangers. He gave us a number of gifts to assist us in our endeavours – a letter of introduction to his brother; a suit of enchanted mithril armour (which was taken gleefully by Flynn); a ring of protection (which we all agreed should be taken by Torvig the cleric to help protect him from the many fights he was finding himself in since our recent adventures began), and a wooden box of complicated multi-coloured inks to help Morgan with his spellcasting.
.oOo.
This meant that Morgan locked himself into his rooms again for 3 days whilst he used up the precious inks to scribe more morbid spells from the book taken from Filge into his own spellbook. We spent the intervening time as best we knew how. In a bar, naturally enough.
Eccles
Ragged idiot in a trilby.
When Morgan returned, unable to clean the last of some blood-red ink from the sleeve of his tattered clothes, we headed to Smenk’s palatial mansion house. The doors, as ever, stood wide open to allow any miners to speak to their employer. The fact that the doors were guarded by a pair of massive feral dire apes would probably dissuade any employees brave enough to want to make demands of Smenk.
They devoured the large slab of meat I had brought for them as Torvig rang the bell. We waited, listening to the sounds of rending meat and noisy chewing, before a guard came around the side of the house yelling at us to go away.
After a short chat, the guard was mollified, and agreed to speak to his master once we showed him the letter of introduction. He left us standing in the mud outside the house, as the heavens opened and a downpour began.
.oOo.
10 minutes later, and we were cold, wet and miserable, which is probably partly why Smenk waited that long before making his entrance. He stood just inside his front door, flanked by the two snarling dire apes. Growling himself, he demanded what we wanted.
As we stood in the pouring rain, Smenk spoke to us about his belief that there were cultists in the mine. Either he was in cahoots with his brother, or the two had both been researching the same thing from different angles.
We asked if there was any way that Smenk could help us get into the mine, but he was gruff and singularly unhelpful. Stroking the head of one of the dire apes, he growled out the news that there were a round two dozen guards, 12 humans working throughout the day, and 12 dwarves who worked at night. They were led by Dourstone, using three senior foremen, one of whom (named Gerald) was in the habit of drinking in the Feral Dog (our bar of choice).
Smenk also let slip that he knew about the Ebon Triad; a fact which we were swift to pretend we had seen nothing of. He didn’t, however, tell us anything new about them.
Finally, to our great delight, he offered to pay us money to investigate the mine – 50 gold apiece up front, with the promise of another 50 when we had finished clearing the mine.
They devoured the large slab of meat I had brought for them as Torvig rang the bell. We waited, listening to the sounds of rending meat and noisy chewing, before a guard came around the side of the house yelling at us to go away.
After a short chat, the guard was mollified, and agreed to speak to his master once we showed him the letter of introduction. He left us standing in the mud outside the house, as the heavens opened and a downpour began.
.oOo.
10 minutes later, and we were cold, wet and miserable, which is probably partly why Smenk waited that long before making his entrance. He stood just inside his front door, flanked by the two snarling dire apes. Growling himself, he demanded what we wanted.
As we stood in the pouring rain, Smenk spoke to us about his belief that there were cultists in the mine. Either he was in cahoots with his brother, or the two had both been researching the same thing from different angles.
We asked if there was any way that Smenk could help us get into the mine, but he was gruff and singularly unhelpful. Stroking the head of one of the dire apes, he growled out the news that there were a round two dozen guards, 12 humans working throughout the day, and 12 dwarves who worked at night. They were led by Dourstone, using three senior foremen, one of whom (named Gerald) was in the habit of drinking in the Feral Dog (our bar of choice).
Smenk also let slip that he knew about the Ebon Triad; a fact which we were swift to pretend we had seen nothing of. He didn’t, however, tell us anything new about them.
Finally, to our great delight, he offered to pay us money to investigate the mine – 50 gold apiece up front, with the promise of another 50 when we had finished clearing the mine.
Darmanicus
I'm Ray...of Enfeeblement
Nice one Nik however you haven't finished you dog, get writing!!! 
Eccles
Ragged idiot in a trilby.
Chatting about whether we’d ever be able to rely on Smenk to pay up, we headed to the bar, where we saw a familiar sight – the three adventurers were celebrating once again. Biting our lips, we headed across to speak to them, and learned that they had had another adventure, going to the south to defeat lizardmen and gain still more treasure.
We congratulated them on their success (all the while wondering why they had found lizardmen to the south when Smenk and his brother had been talking about Kyuss-worm undead living there). Then, turning to the back of the bar, we noticed Gerald, with another man, sharing a bottle at a shady table.
I headed across to try to talk him into offering us a job, but somehow rubbed him up the wrong way. He immediately took loud and abusive exception to my lute (which was new enough that I was still immensely proud of). Only by telling him of my companions’ great virtues in mining was I able to make him even consider talking to us.
Gerald refused, however, to believe that Morgan had any skills; which was ironic as he was the only one of the three of us who had the slightest clue what was involved in the mining industry. He agreed to employ all of us if Morgan could answer 3 questions about mining; and sweetened the deal with a 5 gold bet with me. As 10 gold lay on the table (probably more money than would be spent in the bar during the entire night), Gerald barked his questions at Morgan.
“What sized bolt would you use on a 8 foot tunnel support?”
“10 inch on an oak timber, 18 inch on pine.”
“What degree of an incline could you set for a downwards sloping tunnel when you don’t need to lay tracks, but do intend for workers to haul scree out?”
“That depends on what the rock is, and what you’re mining for. If you’re on a good solid rock, then the ground can hold a higher slope, say 12 degrees. If you’re on porous rock, then you need to cut it slower and make sure you’ve got good drainage. Clearly if you’re mining a heavy metal and have an average yield mine, then the workers are going to have to haul a lot of sacks – they’ll be at their most efficient on a slope of 6 degrees or less.” Morgan was on a roll now, and was impressing me with his mining knowledge.
“How many dwarves would it take to mine 120 kilos of silver from a mine during the course of a single tuesday if they work all 24 hours, it’s raining, and they have no beards?”
“That’s a trick question on two counts. One, dwarves round here don’t work on Tuesdays, and two, all dwarves have beards.”
Gerald looked grudgingly impressed, and slid the coins across the table to me. “You start tomorrow. It pays 2 silver a day.”
We congratulated them on their success (all the while wondering why they had found lizardmen to the south when Smenk and his brother had been talking about Kyuss-worm undead living there). Then, turning to the back of the bar, we noticed Gerald, with another man, sharing a bottle at a shady table.
I headed across to try to talk him into offering us a job, but somehow rubbed him up the wrong way. He immediately took loud and abusive exception to my lute (which was new enough that I was still immensely proud of). Only by telling him of my companions’ great virtues in mining was I able to make him even consider talking to us.
Gerald refused, however, to believe that Morgan had any skills; which was ironic as he was the only one of the three of us who had the slightest clue what was involved in the mining industry. He agreed to employ all of us if Morgan could answer 3 questions about mining; and sweetened the deal with a 5 gold bet with me. As 10 gold lay on the table (probably more money than would be spent in the bar during the entire night), Gerald barked his questions at Morgan.
“What sized bolt would you use on a 8 foot tunnel support?”
“10 inch on an oak timber, 18 inch on pine.”
“What degree of an incline could you set for a downwards sloping tunnel when you don’t need to lay tracks, but do intend for workers to haul scree out?”
“That depends on what the rock is, and what you’re mining for. If you’re on a good solid rock, then the ground can hold a higher slope, say 12 degrees. If you’re on porous rock, then you need to cut it slower and make sure you’ve got good drainage. Clearly if you’re mining a heavy metal and have an average yield mine, then the workers are going to have to haul a lot of sacks – they’ll be at their most efficient on a slope of 6 degrees or less.” Morgan was on a roll now, and was impressing me with his mining knowledge.
“How many dwarves would it take to mine 120 kilos of silver from a mine during the course of a single tuesday if they work all 24 hours, it’s raining, and they have no beards?”
“That’s a trick question on two counts. One, dwarves round here don’t work on Tuesdays, and two, all dwarves have beards.”
Gerald looked grudgingly impressed, and slid the coins across the table to me. “You start tomorrow. It pays 2 silver a day.”
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