Characters
- Malik – Fighter 1 – a Thalazian blade master, with a spiffing helmet decoration.
- Jassan Al` Nadir – Cleric 1 – A Dervish gentleman posing as a trader, known for dark whispers.
- Cleitus – Magic-user 1 – a thin young man with a fascination for the moribund.
- Eos – Assassin 1 – a scrappy killer in the making.
Retainers
Antiphus – Niarchos – Oeagnus – Brutus the Wardog
Stood in the catacomb, the party’s lantern light reflected off the wet stonework. Echoing to the east were the footsteps of the roguish Jimis and Clovis. Our heroes had a quick debate; should they send Brutus the hound after them? Should they ignore them? Cleitus finally called out to them, apologising for taking their gold, and asking if they wold like to come back. No reply was forthcoming.
Well, there were more pressing matters at hand. The PCs stood at a cross junction. To the north was an alcove holding a large statue of Gunther, a horn helmed warrior sporting a fine moustache. Unlike the previous statue they’d encountered, this one appeared to have a mechanical mouth. To the south there was a columned archway, beyond which there were rows of pillars and a dais holding a corpse. To the east, the two rouges waited in the dark. The floor at this intersection was slightly raised, clearly mounted on a plate.
Just then, a voice called out from behind Jassan, “Looks like you need help with a trap.” A dark roughish figure leant against the wall. Introductions were made, he was Eos, a man with a particular set of skills, and the balls to use them. He had been sent by the mercenary guild of Rubble Diamond to collect the blade of Gunther. Since everyone had the same quest, they all decided to work together.
“Now let me through, and I shall deal with this statue.” Eos bragged.
Eos leapt over the plate, and clambered up the statue. With his dagger he prised open the mechanical mouth and saw a large pipe within. The party contemplated stuffing a tent into this pipe, but instead, Eos leapt across the plate again southward, through the archway.
He found himself in a large vaulted chamber lined with two rows of pillars. Each pillar was carved with a dragon rampant, their eyes a glistening diamond. In the south of the chamber was a corpse on a burial altar. A banded chest was in the south-east. Being a keen thief, Eos approached the chest. He worked the lock with his tools, but alas, he was not nimble enough to liberate it’s contents.
“The body! Check the body!” His comrades encouraged from beyond the safety of the arch. Eos followed these orders, examining the body of Gunther. White, desiccated skin pulled taught over a skeleton. Around its whitened hair was a golden crown of draconian design. Clasped in its bony fists was a fine great-sword carved with runes.
Jassan threw his staff through the arch with a clatter. “Use this to capture the crown!” Then he ordered his forgetful retainer Oeagnus to cross the plate and stuff a tent into the statues mouth. Unfortunately, as soon as the man stepped on the plate there was a shuddering boom as the mechanism was activated. The statue’s mouth winched open, and a flute of flame engulfed Oeagnus. He fell screaming to the floor, horribly burned, horribly perished. The party looked at each other anxiously.
Eos threw the staff back through the arch, convinced he didn’t need it. He proceeded towards the corpse of Gunther, torch held aloft, and when he was within distance he began to shout back and forth with his new friends.
“Grab the sword!”
“Grab the crown!”
“Chop off it’s head!”
“Grab both at the same time and run!”
“Alright, alright!” Eos shouted. Then he proceeded to ram his torch into the corpses face. Perhaps this was his greatest mistake. The corpse opened it’s wretched eyes, totally unfazed by the flames that licked its face. It grimaced and the room became deathly cold as it rose up.
“Thou are not worthy of the blade!” A voice resonated from within it’s hollow, desiccated chest. Eos leapt back, keeping the torch and dagger pointed towards the creature. It stood. It’s creaking tendons released dust. It dashed forwards with unexpected speed. It struck Eos across the chest sending an ark of blood against the pillars. Eos tumbled backwards, and crawled towards the door, but the creature slashed him again, this time into silence.
Jassan peered in from beyond the archway, fumbling in his tunic for a pendant. “Back you fiend!” He cried as he held out the symbol of a chameleon-like mask.
The undead thing glanced at it with hate. “Evil being, you shall perish!” It began to walk towards the cleric. It would have reached him too, if not for brave Niarchos, who sallied forth, unafraid.
“Gunther, we have come in dire need. Another dragon haunts these lands. The people have need of your sword.”
The walking corpse considered him for a moment, and asked for him to come closer. Niarchos did as he was asked. The party waited with baited breath as the Thalazian approached the undead warrior. Gunther took the mans hand, which sent a wave of cold through him, turning part of his hair white.
Finally, the ghostly Gunther closed its eyes, and said, “Aye, I trust ye. Take the sword and go.”
It thrust the sword into the mans hands and threw him out of the archway.
“Go. Slay the dragon, but return my blade within thirty days. Return it, or I shall come for thee.”
Gunther returned to his dais and entered torpor. A bandage was applied to Eos. Then the party heartily looted the crypt of it’s gem stones and chest.
As they were exiting, Jassan peered over his shoulder and saw five mummified maidens drifting towards him. They called out for him to dance with them. Jassan definitely did not want to do that, so he held out his symbol. This made the deathly maidens lurch forward in anger. They came close to him, but the wounded Eos stepped in and bowed to the ladies.
“I shall dance with you, lovely maidens, I am near death myself.” And a lovely dance it was too. A dance of death. As the women swooshed and swooped around him, he felt an overbearing urge to dance with them forever. Somehow he managed to resist this urge, and completed his hellish waltz. He kissed each of the maiden’s on the back of their leathery hands, and they departed.
Lead by Malik, the party marched out of the tomb. As they reached the entrance chamber Jimis and Clovis launched an attack. They attempted to stab the Malik in the back, but, being far to lithe, he outmanoeuvred them, and within a few seconds the party pounced on them, slaying them.
A camp was made atop the tumulus. Overnight, Cleitus had a strange encounter with a man like being wearing a loin cloth. Very rustic.
Then the party marched back to Rubble Diamond, treasure in tow. They handed over the sword to Hel, cleric of the temple of Arien, and received four gold bars as reward. Then they set about recovering from their wounds and spending some of their hard earned treasure.
Judges note: the surviving retainers have now levelled up to Fighters. A week of downtime will be had in Rubble Diamond. Cleitus will use the time to create a spell scroll.
also posted at Dragonsfoot.
Dreadlord Games 