Dr Simon said:
As I recall there's quite a few bait-and-switch ploys in this adventure, the last one rather random. Your established setting of the mean streets of Grimbo fits the background of this one quite well.
Atmospheric stuff, the last installment but one even managed to give me nightmares!
Blimey, my players usually give me nightmares, not this lot but the Lost Boys- I dreamt I was being chased through the Sunless Citadel by them once, terrifying. They we're dressed in character, I didn't sleep a wink for the rest of the night.
Thanks Dr. S.
And so-
Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)
Turn 61: The Ripper.
The Gang head through into a short corridor, a closed door on the left, an archway leading into a chamber twenty or so feet ahead.
“I can feel it, we’re near the end.” Cas states.
Anya nods, mutters arcane words, starting her protection spells. Ala shuffles behind the front line, casting healing spells, ensuring everyone is in peek condition.
“The door first.” Cas states.
Newt does his stuff and then signals for the Paladin to take over.
The door opens to reveal a rectangular chamber with a recessed antechamber to the side. Etched into the stone floor is a crude pentagram surrounded by various sinister looking arcane symbols. Tall candelabras line the outer portion of the room, but their tallow candles are cold and unlit.
The antechamber was obviously a laboratory and study at one time. On a bench lie various jars, rolled parchments, a human skull, a ritualistic dagger, and bottles filled with discoloured liquids. Lying slumped in a chair behind the bench, arms thrown over its face in terror and body twisted in obvious agony, is a skeletal figure. It’s clear it died in a horrible fashion, probably many decades ago.
Cas steps back out of the chamber, barring the way in to the others, “leave it, this is not the place, there is only evil and despair here, it’s the other way, onwards.” Cas points to the archway ahead, which seems to be filled with a ruby mist.
“Can’t we just take a look?” Newt ducks under Cas’ arm.
“Newt. Don’t go in the pentagram, the symbol on the floor, and don’t touch the skeleton.” Anya calls out.
The Gnome creeps in, across the chamber, grabs what he can from the desk and scurries back to the doorway, carefully avoiding the pentagram.
Ala mutters arcane words; her Detect Magic signals which items within the hoard are magical. Theses are quickly put away, the rest of the junk discarded.
Which only leaves…
A dark crimson mist fills the room through the archway ahead; the mist seems to glow, to swallow up the light that the adventurers bring. The stomach-churning stench of blood hangs heavy in the damp air.
Instinctively the Goodman Gang crouch and shuffle, as quietly as they can, into the chamber.
“It’s…”
“Shhh.”
Cas, in places, can barely see his hand before his face, he looks down at his armour, it’s bloodstained, the mist is indeed blood.
He bumps his toe on something.
“Here.” Cas whispers.
Newt scurries forward, the others congregate, it’s the stone lip of a fountain, the fountain itself takes the shape of a leering skeletal dragon. The liquid in the pool surrounding is blood too, chunks of flesh and viscera float lazily by.
“Feck.” Newt whispers and swallows hard as a human hand surfaces and bobs in the bloody pool.
There’s writing around the base of the fountain, Ala peers through the mist.
“Elven”, she whispers, “it says, ‘The mist that surrounds you shrouds your vision. Prove now that your perception is true, and all will become clear. As the sun rises and falls so too must the dragon’s horn be turned, a number of times equal to the characters in the alphabet.’”
“Eleven.” Anya states.
“How…” Newt asks.
“Eleven, the number of letters in ‘Alphabetico’, the Elven word for alphabet- try it.” Anya’s sure.
“You sure?” Cas asks.
“Probably.” Anya shrugs, “try it Newt.”
Cautiously the Gnome leaps the pool to the base of the skeletal dragon statue, climbs the thing so he can reach up to the horn, goes to turn it.
“Other way.” Anya states.
“What?”
“The sun rises in the east, sets in the west, anti-clockwise.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Newt grins, turns the dragon’s horn through eleven circuits, something clicks, the Gnome scrambles down and leaps back into Bec’s waiting arms.
“Now back out, the mist should clear.” Anya shuffles back the way she came, the others follow.
Back into the corridor.
They wait.
“Get ready.” Jim whispers.
The red mist seems to be clearing.
It takes a while.
And then it’s gone.
It’s a large chamber, it must be fifty feet west to east, beyond the fountain is another circular area, ten feet in diameter, a stone lip surrounds it, an unfamiliar script weaves its way around the inner and outer edge of this circle.
The Goodman Gang pass on, towards the dark archway at the far end of the chamber, except for Ala who suddenly comes to a halt.
“Find me, free me…” A woman’s voice, whispered, soft and gentle, certainly not the voice of Mari Kell.
“Cas…” Ala starts.
“Shhh.” The Paladin cuts the Priestess off.
Ala looks around there’s no one to be seen.
“There’s something ahead”, Cas points to the archway, darkness beyond, “something very Evi…”
His speech is cut off; a figure leaps from the shadow and lands before Cas, the two stare at each for a second, time expands. It’s like staring into the very face of terror. With its ashen pallor and leathery, weathered skin the being looming before Cas has the appearance of a very old, emaciated man. Atop its head rests a redcap, coloured by blood rather than dye, and on its feet a pair of oversized hobnailed iron boots. Its fiery red eyes bore menacingly at the Paladin, conveying such contempt, it’s as if it views pond scum instead of threats to its very existence. The creature moves, as fast as lightning- long, skinny arms, clutched in its claw like hands a pair of glistening sickles, razor sharp.
The Redcap buries both sickles into Cas’ chest, piercing his armour as if it were made of paper rather than hardened steel.
And its stare.
The Paladin flounders, falls back, gasping; his life force leaching away.
Its stare, Cas cannot wrench his eyes free.
The Ripper is unleashed
The Paladin slumps to the floor, mewling like a child, and yet still unable to tear his gaze away.
Newt scuttles backwards, he’s not getting anywhere near this guy, and fires, the bolt flies well wide, maybe something to do with how much his hand is shaking.
“BUFFET.”
Bec steps up to the plate, swings his longsword with all his might, the creature lightning fast snakes out an arm, the blade connects, and bounces away, arm unmarked- not a scratch.
The Redcap grins and beckons the Barbarian forward.
Anya and Jim dive back, flat-footed by this latest turn of events.
Ala rushes to Cas, pumps healing into the stricken Paladin.
“Magic weapons.” The Paladin gasps, and then again, louder this time, “MAGIC WEAPONS.”
A palpable wave of terror crashes through the chamber.
More than half of the adventurers turn away, ready to flee the place.
“Fight it.” Cas shouts and staggers to his feet, “don’t give in.”
The Goodman Gang stand fast.
Bec launches another attack; the Redcap catches his sword in the crook of one of his sickles, diverts the blow aside, then steps in and opens an eight inch wound in the Barbarian’s side.
“Magic weapons Bec.” Jim dives in, past the Barbarian, crashes his axe into the Redcap’s side, the blade cuts deep, and yet the Redcap just grins.
Then screams.
An ululating noise that echoes around the chamber and yet seems to be focussed on Jim, the sound fills the Ranger’s head, he turns away, clutches at his temple, straining desperately to block the noise out his whole being wracked with pain- then, as suddenly, the sound is gone.
Jim turns back to face the creature, hefts his axe back around, smiling thinly at the terror.
Ala reaches forward, around Bec, clutches her hand to the pommel of Bec’s longsword, which momentarily glows.
“Now, kill it.” She whispers.
The Barbarian does as he’s told, parries the Redcaps next attack and then stabs the creature in the gut, it bleeds profusely, and yet continues to smile.
“I bring yew pain.” The Redcap gasps, and smiles some more.
Cas, still fighting to stand, swigs down a healing vial, throws the vessel away once its drained.
Anya dodges hard right, gets a clear sight of the creature, she mutters arcane words, a sudden flash of light explodes before the Redcap, it barely registers the spell, swings again at Bec and Jim, who both manage, just, to block its blows.
At the rear Newt fumbles out a Potion of Spider Climbing, glugs it down, then leaps onto the wall, scurries up and onto the ceiling, well out of harms way.
Bec alas cannot parry the Redcap’s next blow, the creature scores a groove into the hulking Barbarian’s chest, he staggers back, and yet cannot stop himself from staring into the soulless creature’s fiery eyes. Bec feels a rumbling darkness wash over him, he blinks it away, just, and comes up ready again for action.
Bec’s blood boils, a red tide, of his own making washes over him, the Barbarian Rages, swings again and takes a chunk of flesh out of the Redcaps left shoulder, leaving a gaping flapping wound.
The Redcap grimaces.
“Fecking Buffet.” The Barbarian gasps through blood-flecked lips.
Jim follows up the Barbarian’s attack but is brushed aside with ease.
“Fall back; get him out of the doorway.” Cas shouts and pulls Jim back. Bec too is grabbed by Ala, pouring healing into him, he’s dragged backwards so that they can get at the Redcap from all sides.
The Redcap is not frightened in the least; it rushes forward, straight at Bec again, dodges another of the Barbarian’s sword thrusts, but fails to score a hit.
“Feck this- time to die.” Anya seems to have reached her limit, she dodges into the fracas, flanking the creature, and thumps her staff into its unprotected side, it seems to have little if any effect, except perhaps to make the Redcap even angrier.
The creature whirls around with lightning speed, raking both sickles across the Wizard’s chest, she staggers backwards, gasping, blood coursing down her, realises she’s on the very edge of consciousness.
“I…” Anya staggers into a wall and stays there breathing hard, her clothes are matted in her blood, “I…”, she half-collapses.
Newt scurries across the ceiling, above and behind the Redcap.
Fwung.
He misses; the bolt buries itself into the stone floor just to the creature’s rear.
“Damnation.” The Rogue whispers.
This causes the Redcap to smile up at the Gnome, as if he had heard his name, he grins, and giggles and then gets back to the job at hand.
Next Turn: A fight to the death.
