Lights in the Darkness

The East Wing of the Ratman Stronghold and the End of Bigarm
Sessions 13 to 16

Urien writes into his diary:

We pushed into the right-hand part of the lair after a short skirmish with the creatures who emerged from that side just when we finished our rest.

We found another statue of the swan lady and a trap that made us fall asleep when crossing the room. Luckily, no ambush followed, and we moved forward till we came to a chasm with a bridge guarded by a handful of the creatures.

We charged across the bridge as they tried to cut the rope. They were no match for our warriors, and the other side was secured quickly, but then they used a hidden entrance in a side room for a foray against our rear. Maurice and one of the giants drove them back quickly, but they were too eager and pushed too far resulting in both of them being separated from us when the door closed.

It took us too long to figure out how to twist the three pairs of statues to face their mates. When we finally stormed into the chamber beyond, our companions were already defeated, and we couldn’t do anything to save them. It must have been quite a shock for Osric. I saw the anger in his eyes: he was very proud of his strong friendship with Maurice. The Muscle will be missed.

We were chasing the creatures away when we were attacked by an animated drop-front desk and a candlestick holder! The rest of the room was just as strange. Two cauldrons were in the room’s center: one flaming brightly as it emitted an oppressive heat and another filled with a clear fluid in which floated sparkling motes of light. When we dropped something into the flaming cauldron, the whole room darkened in a strange way. When we did the same with the clear one, a strange chest appeared above the pool. We then rested a bit and found many destroyed books and a heavy chest under something that must have been Bigarm’s ragged throne. We decided to rest soon, but wished to first secure the next room.

It was a bad mistake! They were waiting for us. Guilbert and our only remaining giant fell in the resulting fight. We successfully withdrew and managed to hole up in the big room again.

Something about Osric concerns me. He was not healing our wounded in the morning and was rather evasive when I asked him about that. I wonder what happened? Is the Maker angry with him? But why?

We moved out again and destroyed the bridge, cutting the bridge on our side before returning to the weird chamber. We encountered no opposition in the next room where Guilbert fell. It must have been some magical laboratory with a weird glass bell or dome suspended under the ceiling, a mirror on rails (that we covered up just in case), and lots of strange runes on the wall. The remaining exit led us through a secret door into the former crypt of the temple complex, it seems. There still were many “traps” where people were put under strange spells, but we figured that out only later after the final fight agains the remaining warriors and Bigarm himself.

Bigarm and his last band of followers ambushed us in the tunnels, employing these “stored” magical effects to attack us while trying to place a wedge between the front of the party and the rear using small side passages. Xenocrates and Haakon fell in the ensuing battle, and horse-headed Agapetos nearly lost one of his eyes. In the end, we managed to kill them all though! Fraegr and Mauger even fought at the front this time, quite a surprise for otherwise rather shifty individuals.

We cleaned out much of the remaining complex now and certainly will continue tomorrow as well. We now have to think of how we can move all these goods over the treacherous swamp back to our camp on the island to the north. We will see if the Widdigmen who stayed outside will attempt anything, but maybe we can work out something with “Strongsmell” and “Splitclaw,” the two Widdigman warriors that we freed in the prison.

I am slowly beginning to suspect that something is wrong with Osric. He fights differently than before, much more recklessly! Might it be the sacrificial mace we found, and that he took from Maurice? I don’t think anything else has changed otherwise. Thinking of it, I heard no prayer or verse from Osric since we lost the last giant, but it was pretty chaotic so maybe I just missed it. I pray we go back to Hewflore soon.

The Statue and Prison of the Ratman Stronghold
Session 11 & 12

“The rats indeed came back for more!” Osric adds to the journal with a little smile on lips before continuing to write down the events that followed.

“These rat-men really dared to disturb our rest but were spotted just in time. The fight was swift and brutal, and Maurice engaged half a dozen on his own before I joined him in the righteous punishment of these sniveling little beasts. The other front towards the large hall was dominated by our four-armed assistants and Zephyros, but it took a while to get them out of all the little hiding places before silence once again spread through these noisome halls. We decided to pull back a bit into the large room after we made sure there was nothing more valuable on the recently slain.

While we cleaned up the larger hall a bit to barricade us in, we got the chance to take a closer look at the large statue. It depicts a woman sitting with staff and pomegranate in hand. From her back, a set of swan wings are visible and there are also swans to her feet making her look rather regal for a heathen goddess. In front of her was a blackened altar, and behind that we found the remains of a woman. She might have died here fighting, but we cannot say for sure. It didn’t look like a sacrifice of some sort, at least, but closer inspection of her belongings netted us a small vial filled with a magical oil of some sort. After rummaging through the rest of the room, pushing the brazier over, closing all the large doors and removing the rather solid, staff from the statue, we eventually found a hidden stash and drainage under the altar. There we found three silver sacrificial weapons: two curvy daggers and a pomegranate mace that seems to be of wondrous make! Quite a find I have to say; I am sure Maurice will make good use of this weapon. "

And with that Osric put the journal away to prepare for another, hopefully undisturbed, rest.

More then an hour later Osric finds some time to write into the journal once more.:

“The rats came back just as we were preparing for another foray. Their ambush was short-lived as the group ran away after the first died by a well placed arrow in his ugly little face. They were even gracious enough to leave a hostage behind for us to interrogate!

The western door, where we encountered the giant ironback before, leads to a prison of sorts where the enemies of Bigarm are held. Apparently, some of these little cowards were holed up in there as well, so we stormed the narrow tunnels without aid of the large giants. It wasn’t much of a battle, but there was one enemy of note: the witch doctor. This nasty little creature had an aura of doubt and disgust about him with his sickly green glowing eyes, making it hard face him directly, but the Maker made me see right through his foul magic! The second hit with my mace broke his skull, and he ceased to whisper his sorcerous blasphemy immediately.

There was a range of prisoners: two caravan guards, a canon and his man-servant, a Dwergar soldier, a weird-looking beastman with a horse’s head, and two widdigmen who say they are enemies of Bigarm. Moreover, there was a plethora of females with their young who apparently tried to seek shelter in the cells.

We swiftly went back into the large hall and I had a brief talk with Godric the canon before we decided to tackle the eastern doors next."

Massacre in the Ratman Stronghold
Sessions 9 & 10

While the company works on the guard detail, Osric sits down to write into a small journal:

After being told to wait for an audience with Big-arm, Maurice started gambling with some of the opossum-folk who guarded the main entrance. Word eventually arrived that the head honcho was willing to speak with us, but only one, our scarred captain, Zephyros, was to be allowed an audience with his rattishness.

After a quick discussion, we disregarded that idea and tried to convince some of the small ones to start a coup d’état. Sadly, the cowardice was stronger and some just decided to run away…

The group decided against idleness and instead chose to press forward, much to the chagrin of Longnose, whose knowledge of what would follow put tears of desperation into his beady little eyes. He proved to be prophetic: the bloodbath that followed will truly be remembered. The snot-nosed little beastmen fell by the dozens under our onslaught as we pressed deeper and deeper into their warren.

Mace, sword and arrow managed to dispatch these sniveling abominations with ease. Maurice especially gave them no quarter as he led the charge against the opossumen with righteousness and valor. Even when we found ourselves separated on different fronts after breaking their resistance in the second large room, he handled the situation remarkably well. These filthy little creatures unleashed a large armadillo in their efforts to turn the battle by brute strength and numbers.

But, they all perished, and we decided to barricade ourselves in to get some rest and treat our wounds, giving me the chance to pen these words. This place here seems to be an old temple of some heathen goddess of fertility. We certainly need to make sure to explore this place more thoroughly. Who knows what else might be buried under the refuse of these ignorant creatures?

Now I should also write about these four-armed giants that Zephyros “convinced” with his his mind tricks to join our cause.

There is no best way to describe these two brutes. For the casual observer,they would be nothing more than four-armed reptilian abominations clad like the barbarians of the mountains, wielding scavenged swords and axes. Yet, after sharing the company of these savage beasts for a few days, watching their behavior and fighting prowess, one is hard-pressed to not be impressed. Their lust for battle is remarkable and their kin seems to be well-known by the widdig-men. Their behavior is crude but proud, and they seem to put great stock in their combat ability.

Not without reason! While their strength is still no match for the likes of Maurice the Muscle, their four arms and size give them a huge advantage in hand-to-hand combat where they seem to enjoy singing what probably amounts to battle hymns while slaughtering the terrified vermin who live in these tunnels. This really makes me wonder if the Maker in all his glory decided to give these savages some resemblance of culture, or if they just mock what they might have seen of mankind in ages past.

Now its time to rest, not to ponder. I would be surprised if these sneaky rat creatures do not try something when they think our guard is down, so I better get some sleep while I can.

Massacre at the Possumen Caves, Part 1
Session 9

This session started where we left last time: At the entrance to the Possumen Caves. There was some debate how to approach the Possumen chieftain Strongarm, but he was not fooled: Only Zephyros alone would be allowed to enter. Longnose went in to bargain on our behalf, while we waited. Maurice played dice with some of the guards, the others just waited and counted the number of Possumen around (several score, at least).

Finally, Longnose returned and pleaded for Zephyros to enter. Zephyros suspected a trap and tried to convince some of the Possumen to ally against the Possum chieftain – but to no avail, Longnose had a bad reputation and his gang soon feld the scene.

On this point, we decided that a more forceful entry was in order. The group stormed the entry, slaying Possumen left and right. First through a tunnel to a larger cave, where we met first resistance which our four-armed giant lizard allies soon turned to flight. While the rest of the group pressed on, pursuing the fleeing Possumen before they could regroup, Demoleon tried a second door. It was locked, but he managed to open it, hoping for treasure behind. (That was the last the group heard of him so far).

The rest of the group stormed a second cave, from which a gong sounded an alarm. Despite the barricade, the Possumen defenders were put to flight once more. The group got split though, being attacked from several directions: Oswald and Osric mopping up some remaining Possumen, while Zephyros and Orhan got ambushed from a small passage and Maurice running into some kind of large, armoured beast.

Here we ended the session, hoping to somehow get out of this mess alive. (The hopes of returning rich are rather dimished right now.)

Exploring the Island: Ruins and Ratmen
Session 8

With our new four-armed allies, we returned to camp where Oswald and Maurice recovered from being mauled by the giant that saved against the charm. Early the next morning, we continued exploring the island, all being fully well again.

First, we returned to the menhir where we encountered the giants and explored the stone, but there was nothing special about it. Afterwards, we searched the nearby ruins, which were similar to the one we found further east – just that they were occupied by a flesh eating willow. Quickly, it was hacked to pieces and turned into a bonfire. When searching the vicinity, we found the remains of elder victims: among them a venturer who brought wine and plenty coins.

Still, our groups greed was not yet stilled so we pressed on. Further in the ruins, we found a house sealed by a large stone block. Being unable to open it, we finally used brute force. This caused the stone to fall, almost smashing Oswald and Maurice. Within the house, we found four tusks which we decided to bring along.

Shortly afterwards, we confirmed that we were on an island in the swamp, there was water all around us. We also found a ford to the southwest, leading to another island. Feeling invincible (or just getting jaunty) we decided to press on, stumbling into a swamp crocodile lair. Only a quick sleep spell prevented us from becoming dinner.

We spied some movement on the other island, with metal glinting. We shortly discussed whether or not to attack, but finally decided to retreat and watch. (For supper, we took some crocodile meat with us, also Zephyros took some crocodile leather for shoes). From our hiding point, we saw some rat man approaching, investigating the crocodile lair. Since they did not continued to our island, we retreated to camp, where we sampled the wine and called it a night.

The next morning, explored another ruin south of the island we had spotted the session before, but not investigated. We found an area with two giant frog skeletons, pink grass and some primitive (and abandoned) shelter. Inside, there were only a holy symbol and a prayer bead. Afterwards we we went east, to explore the new island with the rat-men.

Zephyros managed to convinced the rat-man gangleader Longnose that we were friends (without using magic). When talking with him, we learnt that rat-men do not like the four armed lizard-man giants, because those consider the rat-men food. Also, that the rat-man chieftain is rich. We asked for an audience with the rat-men chieftain, which Longnose promised. We needed to convince one further rat-man leader to be allowed into their stronghold. We learnt that the stronghold was prepared for the rat-mens prefered hit-and-run tactics, with many covers and covered paths.

We ended the session when arriving at the stronghold, as it was getting late.

Accounting and Reptile-giants
Session 7

Finally, we decided on a plan. We sold all loot and used the money to hire a group of mercenaries, rented a boat and bought plenty of supplies. This took a lot of time, mainly for two reasons: We were not familiar with the rules to hire mercenaries and weighted several options in regard to boats (buying one, commissioning canoes, renting one). Oswald also hired a henchman called Demoleon, an Ellasene thief (my back-up character).

Afterwards, we returned into the swamp, staying away from both Froxhall and Taygle’s End, resting on a wooded island in the swamp instead. Thanks to Aethelwine (rolling a 20 on his navigation roll), we even found a quicker path towards the menhir than we knew before. With the river current pushing us into the swamp, it took as only two days of journey instead of three.

Arriving on the island, we fortified our camp and rested for the night. The next morning, we reconnoitred the southern half of the island to make sure there are no hostile settlements and perhaps finding a better harbour. Instead, we found: a) centuries -old ruins made of marble and alabaster, b) a copse in which firs and cypresses grew, c) a second menhir on a low hill, similar to what we found on the northern half of the island. (In Froxhall, there are two standing stones as well – which raises the question whether such stones were usually built in pairs or if that is just a coincidence.)

Before we were able to investigate the menhir though, Orhan spotted several possum-men running from a second copse behind the menhir, followed by some giant beings. We quickly took cover, but to no avail: The giant beings spotted us and three of them moved into our direction. The fourth continued to hunt the possum-men that fled northward.

We retreated into the copse, with the fighters building a battle line and the mages preparing spells in the second line. When the beings came closer, we saw that they were as tall as two men, had two pair of arms and two pair of eyes each and looked somewhat reptilian. They immediately threw javelins at us, which luckily missed. In return, our mages were able to charm two of them, while Maurice and Oswald attacked the third. The reptile-man managed to smash Oswald’s chest before an opportunistic attack of Demoleon (who only closed in when the already badly wounded monster seemed temporarily distracted) finally killed (and looted) the monster.

Luckily, Osric’s henchman Uriel was a healer and knew curing spells. Thus, Oswald survived the ordeal with just a minor scar on his chest and in dire need of some rest.

Meanwhile, Zephyros found a language which he and the reptile-man both speak and started interviewing them. They told us that they were scouting the swamp, there was nothing dangerous in the swamp (except for us), that their tribe has more than two members and lives somewhere to the south of our actual position.

Since the reptile-men are too large to fit into the dungeon beneath the menhir, we are a bit at a loss what to do with them and how to proceed. We are unwilling to simply let them go as they could easily kill all our mercenaries. Since it was also already rather late, we stopped the session here to discuss how to proceed.

Letters to the Patriarch
Part 1

“… and there is barely a faithful soul to be found in these lands where uncaring lords reign while barely giving lip service to the one true church.”

Osric rose from his desk to take a short break, stretching and walking around to regain his focus and get his blood flowing. The Maker did not create him to read and write all day; that much was clear to him. Later in the day, Osric hoped to visit the collapsed study with Urien, but now he needed to return to the letter, even if he would rather do some exercises to get the frustration of the whole situation better under control.

Back at the desk, Osric continued to write about his travels: the strange well to which he was teleported, the undead-infested ruins where he met some of his current companions, and the horrible tree under the earth. He made a note to himself that he would return one day once strong enough to cleanse that place… He wrote also of the lord of Froxhall who cared more about his own research then his people and of Colbert the dutiful teacher of Froxhall’s study who struggles to keep the faith alive in a forsaken village on the edge of civilization.

He recorded Colbert’s stories about heathens and disgusting frog cults in the neighboring villages, adding his own observations from his visit to Taygle’s End: “…there we found to our surpise that the study wasn’t abandoned at all! Someone lived there, claiming to be a warden of the Maker. If he was speaking the truth was hard to say: he certainly wasn’t all too hospitable, but the same could be said about the rest of the town. Certain is only that this would not be my last visit there. If he turns out to be some heretic — or even a cultist in disguise — I will make sure that he gets his well-deserved punishment, protection from the local ruler or not.”

Looking at the parchment, Osric noted that his writing certainly did not rival that of a monastic scribe, but reflected that it was high time for a visit to the damaged study. So, he rose and fetched Urien, his new understudy who was making remarkable progress in studying the teachings of the Maker. Osric was certain he was no material for a warden — he predicted that a single, well-executed punch in the stomach would probably down him for a day or two — but he thought the young man would make a fine canon one day soon.

The Chronicles of Zephyros - Chapter 1
The Purpose

Deep in thought I spun the last bit of wine in my glass around before bringing it up to my lips. I set the glass down on the table and could not help but form a distorted smile across my face as I recounted the moments of my near-death experience and the days that followed.

I was so fixated by the peculiar face on the door jeering at us, along with all the gold, silver and bronze adorning it, that I didn’t even consider stepping back while Oswald was fiddling with the mouth. Time stopped as I heard the hiss of gas under pressure being released. I glanced over just in time to see a blast of brown gas billowing from the face’s maw. I only had time to close my eyes, as I felt the skin on my face burn. The pain was intense. Everything went dark. Then I heard screams followed by silence.

Suddenly, I awoke. Osric was hovering over me, calling to me, “Zephyros, wake up! You’re going to be alright. It’s not your time to meet the Maker!”

I was writhing, heaving due to the intense pain on my face. Darkness followed once again: the pain was too great to bear.

I woke up again to Osric completing a prayer over me. It was calm. We were outside now. I saw the grey sky beyond his head. His face could not hide his look of despair. “May the Maker have mercy on you, Zephyros,” he whispered. I reached up to feel my face only to be rewarded with the sensation of wax covering my skin. I felt a pit in my stomach like none that I had ever felt before.

“How bad?” I asked.

He replied, “My friend, you’re lucky to be alive. I’m sure the Maker has a purpose for this.”

I exclaimed, “What? A purpose for what?”

As I sat up, I saw Maurice staring at me, and he said, “We’ll find a way to remove the scars from your face, Zephyros. I promise we will.”

The reconfirmation of my greatest fear coming true was too great for me to take. “No! No! No! Stop it!” was all I could say as I scrambled to my feet, pushing Osric aside. I made it a few steps before crashing to my knees, holding my unfamiliar face in my hands as I sobbed.

Osric kneeled beside me, put his hand on my back, and whispered, “You have been through a lot today, my friend, and you will go through much more over the next few days. The Maker reveals Himself in mysterious ways, and I know you will discover His purpose in time.”

I went numb after that. I wanted to be alone. I pulled the hood of my cloak over my head and sat with my knees pulled close to my face.

My mind was a fog as the party insisted that I pilot them to Froxhall, as our navigator Taeting apparently had better things to do than follow us. Frankly, I’m surprised we even made it, as I was in no condition to lead us anywhere. My senses were dead; the only sensation to register was the empty pit in my stomach. I recall thinking, “This was all a bad dream that I would wake up from at any moment, right?” I don’t remember much else from that day aside from being led around by my companions and sitting in a boat on our way to Hewflore. It was mostly a blur save for one moment of clarity: when the pit in my stomach transformed to be replaced with rage.

I recall also that Maurice asked me to try to convince some guard into allowing us to meet with the local reeve in some dead-end town on our way to Hewflore. “Zephyros, try and talk some sense into this guy,” he whispered.

As soon as I made eye contact with this man I knew I had lost ‘it’, as normally folks were excited to see and talk with me.

Not this time. It was like he was looking at a corpse.

I don’t even remember what I said, but it didn’t matter as the conversation was over before it started. I’ll never forget the look of disdain on that man’s face. It made me angry, very angry. So angry, in fact, that I found myself starting to form the words of my spell of charming, but my conscience wouldn’t let me. My new purpose had not yet revealed itself to me. I cloaked my disfigured face, turned around, and walked back to the boat.

As we resumed our trip to Hewflore, I asked Osric, “Can you heal me completely when we reach Hewflore?”

Osric replied, “Zephyros, my friend, I have done all I can for you.”

I retorted back, “Surely there is a powerful cleric of the Maker that can make me look as I once did!”

And with that, Osric quietly said, “Zephyros, you know we do not have the resources for such a request, not to mention such prayers can take a great toll on you. I know you are in a dark place right now, my friend. We will get through this together, and I assure you that once you have come to terms with what has happened, you will go on to do great things, as the Maker intends for you. This is a blessing in disguise. You are close to solving His riddle, Zephyros. You will figure it out.”

I remember thinking, “This isn’t what I want to hear. Why was I so stupid to sit in front of such an obvious trap? Why didn’t I just die? Why is the Maker toying with me?” The questions soon ended and were replaced with depression, as I saw my new face in the reflection of the water as we arrived in Hewflore. “I’ve become a monster,” I thought to myself. I pulled my cloak close around my head to hide my gruesome visage as thoughts raced through my head. “Perfect! We’re in a town full of people ready to taunt and jeer at me. This is the last place I want to be. I don’t belong here. I need to be in some mage’s dungeon, luring poor adventurers to their deaths.”

The days passed as I elected to stay in the inn while the rest of the party attended to the business that brought us to Hewflore. I developed quite a taste for wine during that time. It gave me that sense of confidence that my charm once did, however temporal it that could be. Nevertheless, I was edging closer to accepting my fate. Perhaps the Maker knew this, or maybe it was my inner mind.

Anyway, that was how ‘it’ happened. I was sitting in the tavern, drinking my wine with my cloak pulled over my head and feeling sorry for myself when a burly local barged into the room. I glanced up to hear him yell at the barkeep, “The usual drink, at my usual table!” even as he strolled over to the table where I was sitting. “You’re in my spot,” he said.

I thought to myself, “The old Zephyros would have got up, apologized and moved on." But, the old Zephyros was nowhere to be found.

With a snort, the man continued, “Now, listen here, I don’t know who you think you are, but get the Hell out of my spot, or I’ll rearrange your face!”

I began to laugh, quietly at first and then louder as I stood up and pulled my hood out from around my face to reveal to him my ghastly countenance. I beamed, “It would appear that someone has already beaten you to it.” My gaze locked onto his, and I knew I had him: my terrible features combined with my gift of command was too much for his weak soul to withstand. “This is my table now. You will apologize to me, and you will buy everyone in this fine establishment a round.”

The man immediately prostrated himself on the floor, “Forgive me! Make yourself comfortable, my friend! I was only kidding! Barkeep, the next round is on me!” Making sure to keep facing me, he shuffled backwards to the bar and whimpered to the barkeep, “Get him whatever he wants! Put it on my tab!”

I nodded to him and winked at the barkeep. Needless to say, the burly gentleman didn’t stick around too long after that, but as I reflected back on the moment, I realized the wisdom of Osric’s words to me, “I’m sure the Maker has a purpose for this.” I thought to myself, “The purpose was clear now. The Mornlands’ oppressors aren’t going to succumb to diplomacy. No, as they do not value life or law, they must be coerced. This is why the Maker spared me and gave me a scar to remind me, as well as my enemies.”

After staring at my empty wine glass for some time, my recounting of my last few days was interrupted as Oswald walked through the door of the inn. I waved to greet him, “Oswald, I’m glad to see that you are well. Where are the others? We need to gather and make plans for returning to the Sunken City. We have much to accomplish there!”

Mushrooms and Civilization
Session 6

Returning from the chair back to the front door, the group prepares to descend the trap door. After some discussion, the group lowered some ropes and a lantern, before Oswald climbed down. At the bottom, he found a water pool filled with algae, and stairs leading upwards. He managed to swing over to the stairs and went up, meeting some kind of crocodile man.

The crocodile man considered poor Oswald (who carried just a dagger and no armour) a tasty snack and attacked immediately. When Maurice heard Oswalds cries for help, and hurried to help, he almost drowned. Luckily, the monster was already wounded and thus died after two lucky stabs with the dagger.

Afterwards, the rest of the group descended the shaft as well, searching the chamber carefully. We found a decomposed warden’s corpse with some treasure (divine magic scrolls, coins, holy symbols). Osric blessed the corpse before looting it.

There was a second stair in the room, leading deeper into the earth. We followed it down, finding a room full of giant glowing mushrooms. The floor was rather wobbly (probably fungus and mold) and stank horribly. We could also see a giant door with a metal face on it, Maurice also found a second exit.

We decided to check the second exit first. It led to the elevator shaft we already knew from our last visit. Next, metal door. Before we could check it, we were attacked by some giant vines which we finally shredded without any losses (Osric was hurt, though).

The door was about 7 m (22 ft) tall and 3 m (9 ft) wide and at least the top consists of gold, while the face is made from brass. Nobody opened when we knocked, pulling and pushing proved pointless – we could not move the door.

When investigating the face more closely, Osric found some nubs within the mouth that were labelled with unknown glyphs – not even Zephyros could read them. Oswald simply tried pushing some of the nubs, resulting in an explosion of toxic spores which almost killed him and Zephyros. Luckily, both survived, even though Oswald suffered permanent infection of his joints and Zephyros was horribly scarred.

Frustrated and quite bruised, we decided to leave the dungeon, taking a part of the vine, the crocodile and the frog man with us. On our way back, we find Orhan stabbed and Taeting (as well as our boat) gone.

We can prevent some possum-kin from fleeing with the second river boat we had found before on the other side of the island. Orhan put them to sleep with a spell, afterwards we smashed most of them before taking their boat and leaving the island.

Due to our complete lack of navigators, the return to Froxhall was delayed by two days (mainly because we got completely lost and accidently drove further into the swamp instead of out). Finally, we reach Froxhall, where we sell the monster parts, grab the stored stuff and sail towards Hewflore.

We stop in Taygle’s End but find it an unwelcoming backwater, where nobody is willing to let us stay for the night. The local teacher is rather strange and Osric finds him suspicious. The local lord is not willing to speak with us. We decide to paddle a bit further and sleep a little outside the village in the wilderness.

The next morning, we reach Hewflore around mid-afternoon. We sell our remaining loot, including the new boat. Osric tries to be received in audience by Warren of Speers, but learns that the metropolitan is indisposed since a study almost collapsing on him a couple days ago.

After some asking, Osric manages to speak an experienced cleric (whose name I forgot), who liked him enough to tell him a lot about what worries the Makerite church in Dwimor. Heresy was spreading, as two few well educated priests were available, the local lord did not cooperate with the metropolitan, instead investing local priests himself and tithing exclusively to a monastery that was independent from the metropolitan.

When hanging out with the local soldiers, Maurice and Osric learnt that there were plenty mundane problems too: Bandits ravaging the countryside and marsh pirates are massing for another raid, whereas the local lord Drogo is busy wooing the Lady of Orellfor. Also, the Deadlhaws are growing.

Shocked that so many things are amiss, with so few ways to earn quick money, the company retreats for this session to plan what to do next.

The Broken Elevator
Session 5

Oswald hired Taeting as guide through the swamp, offering him standard pay and a share in the treasure if he enters dungeons. Taeting agrees on the condition that he may chose whether to enter dungeons or not.

Afterwards, the group returns to the dungeon under the menhir. Before entering, the group takes time to reconnoitre the island. We find a trail that leads us to a hidden swamp boat, where we discuss what to do with this news. During this discussion, a giant mutant frog (with a human arm on its back) attacks us, but is quickly gutted. While harvesting monster parts, Maurice gets poisoned and suffers nausea, diarrhoea and vertigo. Luckily, the symptoms subside after a short while and, while relieving himself, he also finds some submerged buildings in the water (which we do not further inspect).

The group returns to the camp site from our last expedition and sets up camp. During Zephyros’ and Oswald’s watch, some scouts try to sneak into the camp but are noticed and then flee towards the dungeon. The group remains in place and the rest of the night remains calm.

Next morning, we enter the dungeon anew. The traps (and skeletons) in the first room have been reset, we destroy the first skeleton by bowling a large stone down the stairs, afterwards Maurice and Oswald take care of the remaining. The skeletons look different from last time, mutated humans instead of normal humans. We stash their weapons outside and continue through the secret door.

In the former cauldron room (this time without a cauldron) we are again ambushed: This time by a frog man and a mutant human. There is also one of the small, grey coloured begins (I’ll call them morlocks from now) we fought the last time, but this time it flees and shouts “prepare the defence” in beastmanish. (To our luck, Zephyros understands the language and warns us). Even though Maurice gets wounded, the group manages to cuts down the attackers. We also mercilessly cut down the frog man that tried to escape into the machine room.

We find the door forward jammed, but Maurice easily bashes it open. When we press forward, we figure out that the morlocks did not try to ambush us—they wanted to prevent us from going to the stairs.

After taking a look into the machine room and shortly trying to figure out the origin of a strange jabbering sound at a turn toward the machine room, we descend the stairs. They end in a long shaft with a large metal chain running up and down. Oswald manages to get across, but can only find some very small holes on the other side and nothing else. Neither a stone nor a torch thrown down the shaft reveal any further clues, except for the torch flashing briefly before vanishing in the darkness.

We return upstairs and give the machine room a closer look. We find and pull a lever, which starts some kind of machine. The group splits, half remaining in the machine, the other half checking out the chain. They find something changed, there are not levers where the holes were. Maurice binds himself to the chain and tries pushing them. When he manages to do that, he suddenly vanishes down the shaft. With some luck, he manages to keep his wits and somehow lights a torch, finding himself shortly above two white tunnels.

The rest of the group gathers near the shaft, looking for a way to return Maurice. After some discussion (and yelling up and down the shaft) we learn which lever Maurice pressed and, by pressing the opposite one, return him to our level. This takes some testing. Afterwards, Oswald is bound to the chain and lowered and lifted through the whole shaft. We find that there is no level above us, but just the ceiling with a small hole for the chain, and that there two levels beneath us: The one with two white tunnels about 20 m beneath us and a second one with a lake and a grey tunnel about 40 m beneath us.

After some discussion about how to cut as large a piece from the chain as possible, to sell somewhere else, the group decides trying to enter the lower tunnels through the trap door near the dungeon entrance next time, instead of braving the chain. Thus ends the session.


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